Wrath Demon Novels & Stories

But everything crumpled down when she found out the truth. This is Dark Hades call. He only comes out when there’s death. He only comes out when there’s evil and blood. Because death and darkness are always the demon’s call.

I said causing his eyebrows to raise. "First you didn't even change your name dude" I said causing him to chuckle "the demon Dáinn is known to be a bringer of death and collect the souls of the damned, kinda like the grim reaper but worse to be honest" I said letting out a small laugh myself as he smiles at me. "If it wasn't the name that gave you away it would have been your aura" I stated "you hold yourself to a higher standard and try to push power and superiority on those around you as a form of dominance and control" I stated.

he said, his voice unwavering. He worked for hours, chanting incantations and drawing intricate symbols on the talisman. And as he finished, he placed it in my hands, his eyes meeting mine. "This talisman will protect you from the Demon werewolf's charm," he said. "But be warned, it is not foolproof. You must still be vigilant, and never let your guard down." "Do not underestimate the Demon werewolf," he warned. "He is one of the most powerful and cunning creatures in all of the supernatural realm. His charm is strong, and he can manipulate even the strongest-willed individuals."

But within moments, cracks appeared in the ice, and the demon broke free with a roar. The battle raged on, each attack more desperate than the last. Claud combined his powers, sending a whirlwind of fire and lightning at the demon. The creature was thrown back, its body smoking and smoldering, but it rose again, unyielding. Claud slammed his fists into the ground, sending shockwaves of earth rippling towards the demon. It stumbled, falling to its knees, but even then, it began to heal.

Kill her, rip her apart. So much pain. So much rage. He clutched his fists, releasing a roar of anguish. His brutal claws ripped into the walls and floor, the stone turning to dust. Levina's cruel laugh echoed in his ears. He was lost. With one last bellow he let the demon within rage free.

Marion and I were among those gifted few. Marion’s ability was called Bloodfang Dominion, a powerful, albeit sinister, gift that granted him control over the wolves under his command. Through a binding blood oath, he could compel their unwavering obedience. However, that bond is weakened if a pack member doubts his leadership, making his control unstable over time. His abilities included Combat Enhancement, Crimson Roar, and Bloodfang Berserk. The latter triggered a surge of raw aggression, doubling his strength and speed for a short period. But it came at a cost, once the effects wore off, he would suffer from intense fatigue, leaving him vulnerable.

Warriors gathered close, desperate to escape. But then— FWOOOOSH. A violent gust of wind ripped across the field, nearly knocking people off their feet. Everyone froze. A shadow darkened the sky. Three demons—Jyra, Devyani, and Daksha—descended with wicked smirks. Their wings folded neatly behind them, their skin pale as moonlight, their eyes burning with fury and grief. Jyra sneered, "Trying to run? Too late." Devyani added coldly,

gods, those maws gaped wide, fangs gnashing through armor and bone, spraying black ichor that sizzled on the mud-churned ground. At the epicenter stood the warrior, a colossus of unyielding fury. His frame was a fortress of scarred muscle, broad shoulders heaving with each labored breath, clad in battered plate armor etched with the Moonveil Citadel's crest—a snarling wolf encircled by thorny vines, now smeared with demonic grime. Raven hair matted to his sweat-drenched brow framed a face carved from granite: sharp jaw clenched in rage, eyes like forged steel blazing with defiance. In his massive fists, he gripped a greatsword forged in elder fires—its blade a yard of rippling obsidian steel

He forced down a mouthful of blood and struggled to stand, his face contorting in agony. He glared at Ashton with bloodthirsty eyes, knowing from the agonizing pain racking his entire body that he had finally met his match. He hadn't anticipated that someone wielding merely the power of the divine realm could wound him before this. Javier felt that this was nothing short of humiliation for him. "Nether Demon Hand!" Javier suddenly roared, driven by extreme rage and humiliation. His entire right arm turned pitch-black as the crimson venom flowing through his veins converged into it, causing the semi-otherworldly realm energy he emitted to grow ever more frigid and horrific. It instantly maxim

"Who was he?" "I swear to you, my love, I never had any—" "Who was he! You lying bitch!" Deimon lashed out, turning with blinding, almost inhuman speed. Rage , dark and ancient, was stitched to the very fabric of his soul. He clutched a torture device in his left , an archaic Ironspider, it's multi-pronged tips glowing wicked in the dim light . He brought it down in a swift practical arc at Anna without hesitation.