I hated him.
From the moment he came into my world and didn't bother to hide what he wanted from me, I should've known.
But I signed my name in blood. And hell doesn't offer second chances.
Now I'm cursed. And every time his fingers find my skin, I stop caring why I ever hated him.
I thought the worst thing would be loving The Devil.
Qué pendeja.
The true horror is realizing he never had to corrupt me. I was always this hungry.
YOU ARE READING
The Demon's Half
FantasyŅ̵̻̇e̵̝̲̒͗v̴̦́̐e̸̥͍͐r̸̳̩̈ ̸̤̍̕b̵̹̹̈́a̷̬͒ṛ̷̨͑͆ǧ̸͚a̶̖̠̽͌ȋ̸͍n̶͎͋ ̷̜̳̍͝w̴͚͛̾i̷͚͗͠ẗ̶͕̞́̆h̷͗ͅ ̷̱̒t̷̜͇̀͆h̵̘̾̄e̵̞̩͑ ̵͇͓͂ḑ̷͙͐͑e̶͈͕̍͂a̶̩͍͂̕d̸̞̲̓ They say two is the natural order of the world. Two eyes. Two hands. Two halves of a soul that make a whole. ...
