Satan Wings Novels & Stories

Everything was perfectly kept. But even perfection has small flaws. Even when you're in control, you can still feel a deep wanting. It was one of those nights when I couldn't sleep that led me to search online. I looked at websites with names that sounded like secrets whispered in quiet, forgotten places. That's when I saw him. He wasn't advertised as a person, but as a "Perfect Companion." The ad said he was a Succubus, but the word didn't scare me. It promised he was handsome, loyal, and would meet all emotional needs. No returns or exchanges were allowed.

"You’re the one who whispered to me in the dark when the Council was carving into my bones. You’re the 'Extinction' they were so afraid of." The figure—the Red-Winged Dante—stepped into the light. It was a perfect, terrifying blend of us. It had Dante’s lethal, massive frame and his predator’s stance, but from its spine erupted a pair of wings that were an exact, burning replica of mine. They weren't made of "Void-Lead" or "Obsidian-Gold." They were made of Primal Fire, a deep, arterial red that seemed to drink the light from the room.

Skin tore— And wings unfurled. But they weren't white. And not demon-red. They remained black. Yet at the edges... red shimmered. Dust. Tiny, glowing, dancing specks. Like silver on Rea's white wings. For the first time: they belonged together. Kael trembled. His wings weren't entirely of this world— As if they were made not for air, but memory. Woven from pain, choices, fury, and longing. The light pulsed, and the spear shuddered.

said Marek. It was harder to find a way to disbelieve them and their demonstration as flaming wings grew from Kriss’s back while Marek sprouted small crystal horns on his head that sparkled like perfect diamonds. She quaked with fear for a moment, but struggled to reassert control of her emotions and remain logical. “That’s just impossible, and didn’t you mess up the mythos anyway? It’s supposed to be demons who are hot and fiery, and angels who are good and bright.”

Satan had arrived first with his army in tow, fully expecting the two demon lords to try something reckless. Satan stood 7'2" tall with front-facing black horns on the side of his head. He had a black hood draped over his head with a black wrap covering his eyes. He picked his teeth with his black claws as he waited, revealing his triangular teeth. He kept his wings outstretched as a sign of dominance. He kept picking at his teeth with his index claw, giving the two demon lords a max of ten minutes before he gives the execution order. Moloch and Baal showed up, apologizing that they had to remove their armor first.

The tattoo on my arm burns, but it’s not time to release that power yet. “Satan Wolf.” Before Nicolette’s return...while training. “Remember these three powers... the Satan wolf can be used for purification of a soul or for lethal attacks, but after its use, you won’t be able to move and as a result, you will be an easy target.” Present... The tattoo on my eye changes shape to the figure of a wolf with open jaws. My musculature increases and my hands become real wolf paws. The fangs are long to my lower lip and the hair is turned upward, totally red.

his voice was rough, and slightly muffled like he had something in his mouth. “Sorry for calling so late, this is June.” I suddenly felt silly calling him so late, but this matter was rather pressing. “Oh, hey June, how is everything going?” Now his voice was clear. “Well if I am being honest, I am in a bit of a pickle. One of my special angels has a real demon after her, and I am afraid there may be a rat in my house.” I paused to take a breath. “The truth is the guy she is running from is very well connected, and probably one of the worst monsters I have seen. He hurt her bad Hawk. I hate to ask but until I can clean house and figure out how he located her, is there any way you would be wi

I muttered as I recalled what the cursed witch said. “Yes, we are coming for your world,” the big creature casually said. “You werewolves have had your fun.” “What is that supposed to mean?” I asked in a firm tone. “It means that we will tear through the Rift that blocks your world from ours and take over it by killing you all and enslaving some of you just for the fun of it.” The big guy replied. “What are you called?” I asked him as I looked around. “Saturn,” he replied. “The Harbinger of Doom.”

Satan remained silent, still standing at the window, his hand holding a cigarette between his fingers. Dylan darted forward, snatching the cigarette away and crushing it in his hand. "Sir! Do you want to ruin your throat for good?" Satan didn’t move, his fingers still hovering as if the cigarette were still there. After what felt like an eternity, he sighed and said, "I wasn’t smoking. I just needed to hold it, to smell it. It calms me down." "Sir..." Dylan began, but Satan raised his hand to stop him.

From the cracks on the frozen white space crawled out a looming shadow swallowing the angel as it enshrouded it with its misty limbs… Satiana’s hair darkened from a silver-white hair to a jet black hair… a pitch-black just like that darkness that she called for… Her eyes shimmered in a crimson hue, a grin on her porcelain-like face making the angel experience a bone-shaking fear… something it never experienced… And as a final act of struggle… it started praying…