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The Demon's Soul

[COMPLETED] She leaned down to look inside the well and sighed. Tucking back her hair behind her ear as the evening wind blew. "I told you not to be a curious cat," she scolded looking at the well to receive a small 'meow' from it. Her cat had stepped on the edge of the well no matter how many times she placed it back on the ground and as expected it fell inside it, "You know what I'm going to leave you here and get you once you reflect on what you did," she said firmly and heard her cat meowing non-stop as though it was asking for her forgiveness. Spotting a bucket with a rope around it she took it and lowered the object down carefully but the length fell short. The cat could get into it if it tried but it seemed to have different plans as it sat down. She leaned forward as she stood on her toes, making the bucket touch the cat. "A little more and you can provide the cat with your company," a voice said behind her, leading her to almost fall in if it weren't for the stranger's hands. "My my, what a troublesome girl," the owner of the hands around her waist said. Lillian was adopted by a demon couple and was happy with how her life was going on until an unfortunate incident. An incident that will pull her back to where she belongs. Juggling with her past and present will she survive the future?

ash_knight17 · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
80 Chs

Unavoidable- Part 2

My head snapped to see a huge black furry dog staring at me now.

"Awe it's a dog," I grinned widely. I bent down to sit on my knees while the dog growled lightly and after few passing seconds, it tilted its head looking at me. I raised my hand forward and it stared at me wondering what I was trying to do. Everything was calm until it decided to pounce on me with all its force making me fall backward. Sniffing me it let out a small bark, it's black fluffy tail swinging left and right.

"What's your name?" I asked it while scratching the back of its ear. My hand froze then. Could it be...Marc? Oh my God!

"His name's Dozer," said a voice startling me. A boy of my age stood at the entrance of a room wearing torn jeans and a plain shirt. He must be the owner of the dog, I thought.

"Which breed is he?" I asked him while the dog named Dozer licked my hand.