Romans & histoires The Demon Master

"I didn't send you here just to play librarian. We need a demon's heart for the next phase of our experiment, and Asher’s is the only one pure enough to work. Every day he keeps breathing is a day my work stays unfinished." Edan felt a cold sweat break out on his neck. "I told you, he’s a half-demon. He’s smarter than you think. If I rush this, we both end up in his dungeon." "I don't care about your excuses!" the Grandmaster barked, slamming his fist onto the mahogany table. "I took you in when you were nothing. I fed you, I taught you the dark arts, and I gave you a purpose. Now, pay your debt. I want that heart sitting on my altar, still warm. If you can't kill him yourself, use the girl

I whimpered loudly, my body shaking with ecstasy and pain. He leaned closer, pressing his lips against mine, "I swear to God, if you don't answer me right now, I will fucking destroy this pussy." "You." I moaned softly, finally giving in. Something in my submission made his eyes darkened with possession. He stopped slapping my pussy and pressed two fingers deep instead, making me bite down on his shoulder. "Who does this pussy belong to?" He asked me one more time, softer but just as demanding. "D...Damien Raphaël." I moaned, my lips slightly parted against his jaw.

Frowning, I watch as he stalks onto the sand, reaches down and grabs two handfuls before coming back to stand in front of the table. "Here's an analogy for how much Demon blood you have..." he says. I breathe out loosely. This should be interesting. “Imagine this is a full blooded Demon. Only one such creature exists like that now, who is actually alive, and not cursed unground somewhere." He dumps an entire handful of sand onto the table, a few granules skittering across the surface toward me. I swallow uncomfortably, hating the sound of someone all powerful like that. "Wait-"

Just please kill me already, my poor heart can't take this anymore. I taste a metallic flavor pour out of my nostrils and mouth before everything went dark again. I felt myself collapse, but not even the impact against the steel floors could wake me. ******************************** Enters Kris, The Demon-Wolf King's Host, "KRIS! YOU GOT TO GET OVER HERE RIGHT AWAY BROTHER!" "DUDE, I'M FREAKING OUT!! PLEASE" "THE WITCH KRIS.... THE WITCH!" This friggin idiot! He calls himself a King?!

Demons are naturally greedy, cunny, and twisted, so it is rather queer for this one to demand a single question as payment for answering all of his questions and clearing his doubts. After several considerations (and reconsiderations), he decides to give the demon the benefit of doubt. How harmful could a question be? Besides, I can always skirt around the truth- I am the Master of Twisted Words, after all. And if push comes to shove, I’ll just torture him till he rescinds his question or even opts for another deal. “What a fine morning. How has your stay been so far? Any complaints?”

It had baffled when he was just a mere mortal, but it floored him now as a demon. Her stubborn will to be both defiantly strong and soft in his hands had caused the sadistic side of Young to rear its head in Blood, pushing for an opportunity to turn her to clay. It never made any sense how she embodied love and light at all times, even when the harsh parts of herself were shown. The demon side of Young couldn’t help but want, damn near need, to crush that light out of her. In the same token, her display of blind trust in him was a gift he never wanted to take for granted so he was torn, now more than ever.

I have to admit that he's an imposing figure, with his wide chest and impossibly long frame. He stoops down and grabs the woman's chin, forcing her to face him. "I am Desmond Stewart and I am your master. From now on, until I free you from this bind, your will is no longer your own. You will forget everything that happens and your mind will be clear of any words, thoughts, desires, or feelings." He is glamoring her, and I am very confused. Aren't vampires limited to one attendant each by law? The woman's eyes seem to focus and unfocus, and a few seconds later, she smiles at him.

This was where the demon would attempt its final ascension, seizing complete control over Alex's body and soul. Without wasting a moment, Mia and Heartman began the ancient chants, their voices harmonizing with an ethereal resonance that filled the chamber. The words reverberated through the air, a powerful incantation designed to weaken the demon's grip and dismantle the altar. But just as the chants reached a crescendo, the ground beneath them began to tremble. The stone floor cracked open, and Alex emerged, flanked by his loyal followers who had been twisted and corrupted by the demon's influence. Their eyes glowed with a sinister crimson light, and the air crackled with malevolent energy

Belphegor gave up pulling him out of the bed and switched to hitting him with my pillow. “Listen here, you lizard. I am Mammon, the demon prince of greed and the second sin. I am the first demon servant of our master so that makes me the superior in this room!” Mammon is squatting low to talk to Gorshe. I don’t even know if he is trying to intimidate the demon dragon or if he’s just being abnormal again. To it’s credit, Gorshe responded with a hiss. “My master is going to leave me because I am useless and ugly!” Leviathan, the demon that I suspect has retinal problems, buries his face into my pillow and cries. Even the way he cries is majestically beautiful.

"But one day, he revolted. I was going through my usual routine of the day after school. I went to her house, and I found him feasting on her body. He ate her heart, so as to become his own master, gaining immortality that was independent of any master." That day was the goriest day I ever lived. I remember walking into her house. There was this iron scent of blood in the air. Scared, I ran up the stairs, calling her name. Susan! Susan! Where are you? Bursting through her bedroom door, I see her body sprawled across the room. And him, stuffing his face with her flesh.