Speak Of The Devil Novels & Stories

“Or you might regret having to know who you are talking to. Leave Orith alone, or you’ll have all your worst nightmares become your reality.” “We’re not afraid of you.” the other member started acting tough. “Oh?” After Axel uttered that word. His skin began to shed in front of the adolescents. Screams are heard all over the block. But no one came to their rescue. As the devil turned back to his human form and left the scene. The gang was either left unconscious or stunned to the point that they can’t even speak. And if they do, they can only say one word. The Devil has come.

“Remember whose house you’re in.” “I know exactly where I am,” Dever snarled. I froze at the tone of his voice. Dever’s never spoken like that. Never lost his temper even in the worst situations. “Right in the lair of devils!” he continued, his feet tapping the floor nervously. “I should have listened when they told me not to do business with the lunatics of River-Valley. We had a deal, you fool! At least your word should mean something, even if nothing else about your lot does!”

Her mother hadn’t died in a car crash. She’d been sacrificed. Her mother hadn’t died in a car crash. She’d been sacrificed. And Dante Moretti—the Devil himself—had been the one she bargained with. “Why are you telling me this now?” she whispered. “Because you need to decide, Seraphina.” He stepped closer again, eyes locked on hers. “This world is cracking. The barrier between what is and what was is thinning. War is coming. Not just between crime families. But between realms.”

Sigh. But if things go as smoothly as planned then the old man would be history. If things go as planned. A few hours later... "Hey, who the fuck do you think you are! I'm the king in this kind of business we run!" I heard the psychopathic laughter of the 53-year-old chubby man as he stared at me maniacally; I could only smirk at his stupidity. Mr Rankins spent his whole life in the drug business, but that doesn't make him KING.

"Give me a chance to expla-" "Sorry," Blake Turner's cold voice reverberated in the hall. "Starting from today, The Spades is an enemy of The Devils. And as the leader of The Devils, I won't tolerate my enemy standing in front of me so fearlessly." "Mr Turner, do you even know who you are trying to stand against?" Mr Calypso growled, clenching his fists, unable to stand the disrespect.

“What— Why?” His eyes flashed, almost silver. “Full moons bring... complications.” “Complications?” she echoed. “You will obey, or you will regret it,” he said simply. She didn’t respond. “Rule three,” he said, voice low. “You serve me. That is your purpose here. You’ll answer when called, you’ll speak when spoken to, and you’ll stay in line.” Emilia’s breath hitched. “And if I don’t?” He leaned in, voice like velvet and fire. “Then I’ll remind you why they call me the devil.”

I interjected sharply before she could even finish what she was saying. "He is not who you think he is!" I lowered my voice so our conversation does not reach prying ears. "Mom, what I am about to tell you is very serious, please do not think that I am insane or suffering from hallucinations, I know what I saw. The Devil is not a man, he is not a human being, he is something else, he is not from this world, you have to get us out of this house, out of this god forsaken country, mom!" Mom did not appear to be the slightest bit shocked, after all the crazy things I said, she was indifferent. I didn't understand it.

“THE FOOD THAT MADE ME LOSE AN ARM WOULD FEEL DELICIOUS.” And again Abelard hears the devil is speaking. ‘It seems it can really speak.’ In the mind of Abelard, that big voice that was heard from the devil was very grueling to his ears. “This is the first time I met a devil like you.” “Tell me, how can you understand our language!?” Instead of answering Abelard’s question, the devil instead laughs at Abelard. Abelard begins to heat up because of the annoying devil’s behavior. “Answer me! You damn devil! Stop laughing!”

Guilty of the crime of absolute stupidity. “Lilac, actually.” The tired-looking one is choking—oh, wait, that’s laughter. It sounds a bit painful and rusty, like a cat coughing up a hairball. Yikes. I’m not sure whether to laugh or call an ambulance. And then I see him again. “The devil speaks,” I announce grandly, because my brain is too drunk to control my mouth. “Go on, satan, confess your crimes to me.” The Tired One wheezes harder, but the devil just smiles— a slow, dangerous curve of lips and lashes.

”Nice flowers.” Wendy commended as soon as Rebecca entered the room. Rebecca on the other hand didn’t pay attention to what was said. She was lost in a world of her own thought. She didn’t see the face of the biker, but from the sound of his voice, she could tell who it was. It was a voice she would recognize anytime, any day. The voice of the devil who haunts her in her dream. A pat on the shoulder brought her back to reality. She jerked and the flower slipped from her hands, but Wendy caught it before it could fall to the floor.