The Devil In Her Dreams Novels & Stories

"I keep my eyes on those I trust the most. Now tell me, where is the pen drive?" “I don't have the pen drive,” gasped the man, struggling to breathe. David sneered. “Oh, really? You're not very convincing, Parker.” With a swift motion, he punched the man in the face, causing blood to gush from his nose. Parker winced. “I swear, I don't have it,” he pleaded. David's eyes blazed with fury. “You think you can lie to me? I'm the Devil. Tell me where it is.”

Akshara hurried her way to the dungeon, forced her body against the walls of the dungeon, and cried loud enough to wake the drowsy, ferocious beast. Akshara doesn’t even mind the ferocious animal’s presence and thinks, "I don’t mind being eaten by any beast. I prefer death to live in this hell. The Devil is to be blamed for my condition." She closed her eyes hard and tried to search for Dev in her dreams. Akshara ran to the shadow of a man who exactly looked like Dev. The shadow dissolved in the air, deceiving her into a vein. Her tiresome mind reflected the image of Dev in all the empty corners of the realm of dreams. Akshara ran after them, touching, hugging, and hoping to get hold of Dev.

The amount of times he had said that he didnt know where to start was starting to infuriate her. "How about you start with how i am dreaming and seeing some really weird shit" She spat He snapped his head to attention "What kind of dreams?" She stopped walking and looked down "I dont... know.... its like apocalyptic" "Explain" He demanded "I saw ...the devil" Lucien's eyes flashed with concern "Before i saw you and that banshee arrived. She was there. She wanted me to go with her" Lucien remained silent "The stupid thing is.... i really wanted to go with her"

“Is that what you want me to be? Afraid? You would have to pay me then. For a price, I'll become a scream queen.” I chuckled incredulously, because I still couldn’t wrap my head around what I was looking at. “I’m the one owed a debt and you want me to pay you?” She shrugged. “I guess the fear factor is off the table. So what's it going to be Mr devil?” I shook my head, as I walked towards the door. There just was no way she was a real person. “Hey you can't leave me here without answering my question! That's not fair Mr Devil. Mr devil?!” She kept screaming.

My skin felt so hot and damp, and between my legs was a wet mess, and the ache remained, refusing to fade even though I was now wide awake. Everything about that dream was so wrong, and forbidden. In our tribe, the Devil was the ultimate evil. My mother had raised me with terrifying stories about how he tempted good girls, how he ruined their souls, and how any woman who gave herself to him would bring shame and curses upon her entire family. We burned special herbs at night to keep him away. We were taught to fear even the mention of his name after sunset. If my mother ever found out I was having dreams like this, she would be heartbroken and furious.

Her tears were blood? She sat there feeling frozen inside. She didn’t answer the door. She just couldn’t bear to see their faces, Charlotte’s and Claire’s, looking at her with pity. She was that girl who got food from a Dumpster. The one carrying the child of a devil. The one with a devil controlling her through a splinter of himself he’d put inside her. In her brain. Where she thought. Reasoned. Where she shared her dreams with Damonq. She lifted her face to stare out the window again at him – her man. He was the most perfect man in the world, and he deserved better. So much better.

Devil! "Devil?" I asked her to repeat what she said. "Aren't you?" And I knew she was gone for the night. "Wait! I will teach you what a devil can do to you," and she ran upstairs to protect herself from me. I watched her run up the stairs, a smile stretched across my face. She was laughing, her infectious giggle filling the room, and I couldn't help but join in. I chased after her, feeling the excitement and energy of the moment.

She turned her head to meet the Devil's icy, harsh gaze. Oh my God! After yet another fight, she began to choke on her vomit. She gritted her teeth and kept her mouth shut to avoid drawing attention. The Devil's attention quickly shifted from her to another target, and he pinned them with his angry look. Why is she so depressed? His singing voice was sophisticated and silky, and it was really lovely. Similar to the voice of the Devil. "She has a lot of internal wounds to deal with. Now, I think it's acting up.

You can’t even take a single hit. “Now, now, Derrick. Don’t leave me so quickly. The fun has just started and you don’t want me to get bored now, do you?” I whistled and my eyes glowed red under the darkness. Derrick trembled as he witnessed that, “Who–who are you?” My grin widened, “I am the She devil. Nice to meet you.” *************************************

Her hair grew messy, her movements sharper, edged with tension she couldn’t release. Sleep offered no relief. It came in fragments, snatched in shallow bursts. Dreams plagued her—fleeting, fractured images she never remembered clearly. Only the feelings lingered: the press of fear, the sting of betrayal, the burn of longing. Each time she woke, her throat was tight, her chest aching as though she had been screaming. And always, her thoughts circled back to him. The look in his eyes the last time they stood together—stormy, fractured, raw in a way that almost felt human. The silence he had chosen instead of answers. The way guilt had flickered across his face before he turned away.