Soul Punisher Novels & Stories

She said earlier, if you don't volunteer, outsiders can't proceed to remove a personality. That's it, don't worry about what to do, it won't help anyway. The demon glared at me, chuckling. My world goes round and round. I don't understand. Really don't understand. Not just saying split half, why is there another personality? - I'm not a personality. Nor is it part of the soul. Resentment in the depths of their consciousness has invited me to come. A deep, melodious voice like an ancient theater song resounded.

His roundhouse kick was ferocious and filled with Internal Breath as well. Boom! The storm grew even stronger and a ripple effect started spreading. The snow nearby was transformed into fine powder, accompanied by harsh sounds. Soul Lord was forced to step back from the onslaught of Chu Xun's punches and he let out an angry growl. With each punch from Chu Xun, he would take one step back and the ground under his feet would start cracking. His arms were trembling and his eyes were filled with disbelief, for Chu Xun's punches were incredibly strong.

But tonight, none of that mattered. As I went closer to the bar, my fears kept pulling me back, but no! I grabbed the bottle. "Johnny Walker," the label read. With a twisted grin, I uncapped it and placed it against my lips. I didn’t sip. I gulped. I kept drinking until a sharp pain tore through my chest. I gasped, pressing a hand against my ribs. But then, I laughed again—because Michael Finsch was a disgusting bastard, and I was an even bigger fool.

"And now, Sonya, we need to discuss your punishment." The chains on my wrists flare bright purple, and pain explodes through me. It's unlike anything I've ever felt. Not just physical pain, though there's plenty of that. It's deeper. Like the magic is reaching into my very soul, tearing at the essence of who I am. I scream, my knees buckling. "That's level one," Melvanie says conversationally, like she's sharing a fun fact. "The contract has ten levels of punishment built in. Each one progressively worse than the last. Right now, you're experiencing what happens when you fail an assignment."

Her vulnerability was heart-wrenching, a broken girl reliving years of hell, her bitter life a litany of wrongs: endless abuse, stolen childhood, dreams crushed under his boot. But it seemed someone heard her pleas as the door burst open like a storm. Silas, having followed after hearing from a student witness. His intimidating frame filled the entry, eyes blazing with controlled fury. "Get away from her!" he thundered, voice deep and commanding. Her father whirled, sneering at him. "Who the fuck are you? Her pimp?" Silas moved with masterful precision, subduing the man in seconds, a firm grip on his arm, twisting it behind his back, forcing him to the ground without excess force.

I grab his hair back, pull out, rub my cock against the remaining lube on my glove, and I pushed back in fully. I start thrusting feral and fast. The sound of our bodies hitting filled the quiet room "You're nothing but a bad boy." "And bad boys don't deserve slow fucks." I slapped his ass again, loving the print and the way his body reddened and jerked. "You deserve to be fucked like a whore. A gigolo. A used, dirty cum-shit meant to ride my dick and suck me dry." I say with successive slaps on his ass. Asher’s body quaver, convulsing on the bed, lifting and trying to slip my grasp while still gripping the sheet and rubbing his cock against the mattress.

Donna added one more thing, her tone grave, "All of S-tier Malevolent Phantoms build our defenses entirely with soul energy. You've clashed with Specter twice now—you should know this already. "So, if your wife ever charged straight at one of us, those terrifying, nearly impenetrable defenses we rely on would shatter like cheap glass in front of her. Hollow Soul breaks right through."