The Devil you called
The Devil You Called
Grimace. Hunger. Love like a curse.
They say some doors open only once.
She opened hers with three red candles, a drop of blood, and a whisper.
Lonely nights, overdue rent, and a heart too heavy to carry — that’s all it took to call him through.
Malik. The man made of smoke, shadow, and everything her prayers forgot to protect her from.
He came smiling, with promises sweet as sin — protection, money, revenge. Every favor he gave her tasted like salvation until she realized he was feeding on her, one piece at a time.
A memory here. A dream there. Her laughter swallowed whole.
Now he’s the warmth in her sheets and the whisper in her nightmares.
The devil she named, the lover she can’t unmake.
Because Malik wasn’t summoned.
He was chosen.
And love — the kind that burns red under candlelight — always demands a body to keep it alive.