THE DEMON'S FORBIDDEN HUMAN

CHAPTER 1 Hamzel’s POV There he sat. The Devil himself. He lounged on the Throne of Thornes, scrolling through a scroll held by a trembling minor demon. I stood at the far end of the hall, leaning against an iron pillar. After living for over a thousand years, my vision had stretched beyond the ordinary. I could see the fear sweating off the younger demons’ skins. Then, His voice echoed, shaking the very foundations of Hades. "Demons. Gather." The command wasn’t a request. It was a law. Hundreds of demons poured into the chamber, abandoning their posts. Some had short, nubby horns; others had spirals that scraped the ceiling. Horn length dictated age, and mine? Mine were ancient, jagged things that cut the sky. When the Devil called a full gathering, it meant one thing: a breach. A messy, brutal case that required immediate attention. "There is a human," the Devil began, his voice dropping to a dangerous rumble. "He made a deal with us ten years ago. Ten years of unlimited wealth in exchange for his soul. The term is up. He belongs to us." The Devil stood up. He rarely rose from his throne unless his fury was absolute. "But somehow," he roared, the sound cracking like thunder, "this worm has used another religion to try and cheat his fate! AFTER ENJOYING EVERY SECOND OF THE POWER I GAVE HIM!" The chamber shook. Younger demons flinched, shrinking back into the shadows. I didn’t flinch. I leaned back against my pillar and smirked. 'That human must be a messy one.' I thought. "Which messenger is worthy?" the Devil bellowed, scanning the crowd. "Who among you is capable of dragging this fool’s soul back to the pit? Who will not fail me?" Silence. Heavy, suffocating silence. Even the demons who were two thousand years old kept their heads down. They knew the penalty for failure. "I ASKED, WHO IS WORTHY?!" Still, no one volunteered. The air grew hot, thick with sulfur and anxiety. Then, a whisper. The servant holding the list leaned toward the Chief Advisor—the oldest demon in existence, second only to the Devil. The Advisor’s horns were coiled in tight spirals, his teeth sharp enough to tear steel. His eyes burned with an icy blue fire, marking the thousands of lives he had extinguished. The Advisor stood. Seven feet of pure malice. He scanned the crowd, his gaze passing over the trembling masses until it landed on me. "Send Hamzel," he said, his voice like grinding stones. A ripple of envy went through the crowd. I loved that sound. It meant I was the best. It meant they feared me more than they desired the Devil’s favor. The Devil turned his head slowly. His eyes locked onto mine. "HAMZEL." 'Now this is getting interesting,' I thought. I pushed off the pillar. In my hand, I materialized my weapon: a sphere of black thorns bound by heavy chains. I dragged it across the stone floor. Scrape. Clang. Scrape. The sound was excruciating. Demons parted like the Red Sea, pressing themselves against the walls to avoid my path. I walked majestically toward the throne, ignoring the flinches and the lowered gazes. I had killed lesser demons for less than a stray glance. I was competition. I was dread. I was Hamzel. I stopped directly in front of the Devil. Eye to eye. A forbidden act for any other demon. For me? It was Tuesday. "Hamzel. The Most Dreadful," the Devil acknowledged, a hint of amusement in his tone. He waved a finger. A servant scurried forward, handing me a parchment. I snatched it. My eyes swept over the details in a swift glance. Target: Devan Wilson. Age: 26. Status: Recent College Graduate. Crime: Breach of Contract. I looked up, meeting the Devil’s gaze again. "You have one week," the Devil commanded. "Bring him here. Make him suffer. Break his spirit before you drag his soul into the abyss." I crumpled the parchment in my fist. "I don’t need a week," I said, my voice cold and steady. The Devil raised an eyebrow. "Give me three days." Gasps erupted from the crowd. To negotiate with the Devil was suicide. But I held his gaze, unblinking. I was fearless. And I was hungry.