Sad Demon Slayer Novels & Stories

she yells back to his hearing and he stopped firing. "Yes baby, scared of the name huh?" he asked grinning and waited for her response. When she didn't answer him, he continues, "Let me tell you a little story about myself. I've been Dark Blood for the past 5years now, and can you guess how many girls I'd played games with? Hahahaha, you can't guess, let me help you out with that. In each month, I always have a victim and the exciting part of it all is my victims are in different countries and cities. Now multiply 12girls in each year to 5years, how many is that? 60!" he exclaims and laughed out loudly in an annoying way.

Trigger warning ( sensitive topics like self hurt )- The Dark Lord pulled his nails out one by one. He seemed like he was relishing in that pain. Every time he pulled his flesh out along with each nail, a new one grew, almost immediately in its place. His legs were grazing above the fire and chewed on that metal blade. It was the same for all his organs. Every time it got severed it immediately regenerated as if adding salt to his sadistic fornication. As he repeated it again and again, his eyes rolled up and he arched his neck back, as if reaching his climax.

His wolf, as dark as night itself, was a shadow among shadows, capable of blending into the darkness without a trace. Damian Slovan Sletherion from the Ironclad Pack stood like a giant, his muscular frame towering over most. His short, dark brown hair and stern expression only enhanced his reputation as one of the most powerful alphas, his pack renowned for their unmatched strength and combat prowess. Damian's wolf was a massive, iron-gray beast with a thick, imposing build that could crush opponents with brute force.

The bed creaked like it was begging for mercy. Lucian’s voice dropped even lower. “You like that?” OH MY GOD. I slapped a hand over my mouth before I screamed. Who the hell gave him the right to look that hot?! That… animalistic. Dominant. Focused. Possessive. I shouldn’t be watching this. I REALLY shouldn’t be watching this. But I couldn’t. Look. Away. His back muscles were insane. His abs? Sculpted by Greek gods. The way his hair was messy, sticking to his forehead from sweat. The way his hand wrapped around the girl’s neck—

Desperation clawed at Damien’s throat, a useless plea for mercy trembling on his lips, as he now found himself bargaining with death's shadow, pleading for a sliver of life he seemed no longer entitled to. Yadiel raised his silver blade, its edge glinting with a deadly promise in the dim light. With every muscle tensed for the kill, he prepared to deliver a series of devastating strikes to Damien. In the ruthless gaze of a villain, the bonds of blood were rendered meaningless—a mere whisper of kinship drowned out by the clamor for power.

SLASH! A flash of gold slashes through the air. For a moment, Morales freezes in his spot. In slow motion, blood starts to spill from his neck, spraying all over Nine. She quickly backs off in disgust while Two stares in horror as Morales’ head falls on the ground followed by his torso. Damien is standing there with his sword in his hands, blooding spilling from it. His eyes are psychotic, almost in a cruel rage and his heart hardened by what he had just heard.

It was bone. Damon had been walking around for thirty years, holding his mother's hand, signing pack treaties, and petting his children's heads, while wearing a polished piece of skull or spine carved from one of the murdered, soulless boys he had grown in a tank. He had literally worn his slaughtered sons on his hand to cloak his atrocities from the Goddess. Jax squeezed his eyes shut, a ragged, devastated breath tearing through his chest as the sheer, unadulterated evil of it threatened to drag him right into the dark.

Nyssa cried while scooping her dead son near her chest and cradling him as close to her as possible, while her tears dripped down incessantly making Zoe feel weak and helpless for the first time in her life as she too dropped near her son in law’s body and cried on his chest. “KARR !!!! YOU BASTARD,” Danielle roared furiously. “Looks like I hit a jackpot,” Karr laughed evilly. “I killed a demon and you human mutt are coming with me. You seem to have got pinker, prettier and healthier here. I can’t wait to have a piece of you now,” the villainous assassin licked his lips with his eager tongue while lust swarmed in his disgusting eyes. “YOU JUST SIGNED YOUR DEATH WARRANT, KARRRR,” Damon scream

Enraged at the people that sold me, I set the orphanage on fire. That's when the story of my existence started to circulate. They had called me The Reaper. After I started the fire on my old orphanage I was seen by the whole Brakstone City perched on the burning building, holding the scythe with a cloth coiled around my face. It was the same scythe that I had killed my father and the same cloth he'd worn as he died. And it hadn't matter if I'm just a child at that time their fear had made me an enormous monster in their eyes.

Sarah rolled her eyes and complied. Tiodor considered it for a moment. On second thought, Sarah's plan wasn’t so crazy. He had heard about Libia—a girl starved for love and attention, involved in several scandals as the ex-girlfriend of Julio Dorantes, a man who was even ten years older than him. "She’s an idiot," he said out loud. He didn’t know if it would be easy to fake attraction to a girl like her. He wasn’t into skinny, bland girls, much less those who tried to fill their existential voids with relationships. But to get his revenge, he’d be willing to do that and much more.