Story Of The Devil Novels & Stories

Mephiles looked up into the air to remember how it all began and how everything he has ever done led to this moment. For a long while, he stood upon the rampart and looked at every single star and the full moon. He looked up and looked back at his earlier days before he became a demon king. This is his story. This is his tale. This is how a man who sought ambition and a kingdom changed his life. A dark fantasy tale of the devil passing through the lands of the earth and the wolf hiding from the moon. The Devil and the Huntsman.

"My father is the king after all. I've spent my days in the palace, living a life of luxury." "Your father...is the king?" Dominik asked, a bewildered look, plastered on his face. "Yes, is that a problem?" Dominik went quiet for a while. "Have you heard of the devil alpha?" The name immediately rang a bell in my head. Over the year, there a known group of Lycans, led by the devil alpha. The devil alpha was known for his strength, power, and ruthlessness. I had heard my father discussing about it with Vera and from the way he spoke, he detested the devil alpha.

The devil spoke with a mocking tone, "My beautiful visitors, I think you were dying to see me. Now I’m here, but I was in the middle of something. I suppose I’ll have to finish it in front of you." With that, the devil lifted the barely conscious woman, preparing to deliver a fatal blow. Zack sprang into action, using all the strength he could muster to punch the devil. At the same time, Petra threw a knife-like device at the devil’s arm. This device, crafted by the Angels of the Burning Sun’s science tech team, had the power to break bones in ordinary humans. However, it only managed to scratch the devil slightly, though it was enough to make him release the woman.

“Do you have a death wish?” Zoe was past the point of being intimidated. She shrugged, as casual as could be. “You’re definitely not an angel anyway. You’re a devil.” She paused, leaning in close to his ear to whisper, “A lustful, perverted devil.” “...” Apparently, he had been too easy on her, because this little brat was getting way too bold. Aaron didn’t say another word. He turned his attention back to bathing her, focusing on every detail with cold precision, but he refused to look at her. No matter what she said, he gave her the silent treatment.

I already informed my guards to be alert around her and to not let her out of their sight. Any one who fails or defiles me, would face grim consequences. They do not call me the devil for no reason. My head turned to the peaceful, sleepy Lucia, and I shook my head. How could she sleep so peacefully in this situation? One minute she was all over the place, kicking and cursing at me for taking her away from her weakling of a boyfriend, who has been cheating on her, the next she is sleeping peacefully like she has no care in the world.

No women. “A devil with no weakness,” she murmured, the words barely louder than the crunch of the apple. Then a memory surfaced: the way he had devoured her the entire night, slow and relentless, as if her body were the only sin worth savoring. Her fingers tightened subconsciously around the book on devils she had just finished reading. Its pages had spoken of their insatiable hunger for untouched souls, pure, unchanging, untouchable. The moment a soul was altered in any way, it slipped forever from their grasp.

Then the words came, low and rough, like they’d been dragged from somewhere deep and buried. “My mother was killed when I was fourteen,” he said. “Conti hit. They wanted to send a message to my father about territory. She was caught in the crossfire, wrong place, wrong time. Or maybe exactly the right place if you were them.” His voice cracked on the last word, the first real fracture she’d ever heard in it. “I found her. Still warm. Eyes open like she was waiting for me to do something. That’s when I became this.” He gestured vaguely at himself, at the blood on his knuckles. “The devil they all whisper about. Because the only way to survive was to become worse than what took her.”

The Devil was standing before him, a wicked smile on his face. “Well done, Blake," the Devil said. "You have proven yourself to be quite the hunter." Blake knew that he was in trouble. He had heard stories of hunters who had sold their souls to the Devil in exchange for power, and he knew that he was about to become one of them. "What do you want?" Blake asked, trying to keep his voice steady. The Devil chuckled. "What do I want? I want your soul, Blake. I want to make you more powerful than you could ever imagine.

He leans in closer, his hot breath fanning my face as he looked down at me. "I think you are mistaken about something, little one. You belong to me. You were mine from the moment you clung to me desperately begging for help. But you weren't saved by some hero, a knight in shining armor who would do your bidding and just accept it when you tell him no. No darling, I'm the devil and you are mine.” With this his lips crashed down against mine.

I wasn’t staring at a man I called my brother or my best friend either, I was staring into the eyes of the devil himself and the devil wanted everything I had. During one of the few moments I had with my father, I remember him telling me a story about the time he made a deal with the devil himself. I never believed him because I felt it was a lie, a fairytale he was telling me to make himself feel exalted in my eyes. The old, dimly lit tavern was the kind of place where only the most desperate of souls dared to tread. It was a place where the lines between good and evil were blurred, where the patrons were as likely to be demons as they were to be men. My father began.