read my new story America Horror : Demon never sleep.
Hannibal Lecter had just wrapped up another day's work. Today, he stayed late reviewing student papers, so while everyone else was already enjoying dinner, he was only now leaving the office.
Despite the exhaustion from a long day, Hannibal still made it a point to source fresh ingredients and cook himself a lavish dinner as a reward. It was one of his few passions—savoring the purity of fine cuisine.
Lately, though, getting fresh ingredients had become a challenge. Hannibal couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted in Los Angeles recently, and it wasn't just because of that woman who appeared out of nowhere last month. It seemed like other presences had also descended upon the city.
This left Hannibal exasperated. Why did everyone have to flock to Los Angeles? Couldn't they go to the East Coast for once?
After some thought, he decided today wasn't ideal for hunting, so he scrapped his original plan and headed home to make do with what he had in stock.
But as Hannibal parked his car beneath his apartment building, the streetlights, which had been glowing brightly, began flickering out one by one. The entire street fell into an eerie silence, as if every living soul had vanished in an instant.
Hannibal knew this was impossible. Even a demon king from hell couldn't snuff out an entire street's worth of lives without a sound.
That left only one explanation: he'd been pulled into some kind of special dimension.
Very few beings in the universe could pull this off, and Hannibal happened to know exactly who was capable.
"Mammon, what's got you in the mood to visit me today?"
Emerging from the shadows was the King of Greed, a figure with two bird-like heads, shimmering with golden light.
"Beelzebub, I've been setting things up in this city for so long, and I had no idea you were here too," Mammon said.
Hannibal gave a sly smile, though his grin was more unsettling than friendly. "What's the big deal? This city's plenty big enough for both of us to share."
"And what if you add me to the mix?" came another voice.
Hannibal recognized it immediately. "Samael, didn't expect you to show up too!"
Indeed, it was the King of Wrath, with long red hair and a lean frame.
The sudden appearance of both Mammon and Samael gave Hannibal a bad feeling. Surely there couldn't be more heavy hitters, right?
As if on cue, Hannibal heard the sound of scales scraping against asphalt. A massive anaconda, over ten meters long, slithered into view.
The serpent flicked its tongue and spoke in a low, raspy voice. "Beelzebub, were you just thinking about me?"
Hannibal was utterly speechless. He hadn't checked his horoscope before leaving the house, and now three demon kings had ganged up to confront him. Including himself and Elizabeth, that made five demon kings in Los Angeles—a veritable demon king convention.
Well, no "veritable" about it.
What Hannibal didn't know was that Lucifer was also in Los Angeles, and while Asmodeus hadn't shown up in person, his daughter Adra had been in the city recently. The nickname "City of Angels" could now be swapped for "City of Demon Kings."
A bird-headed figure, a red-haired warrior, and a giant anaconda surrounded Hannibal from three sides, their presence oppressive. Yet Hannibal didn't seem fazed. The three demon kings wouldn't start a fight here—this intimidation was just posturing for the negotiation to come.
The fact that three demon kings had shown up together clearly wasn't for a friendly catch-up. Hannibal, picking up on this, kept his cool. "So, you three, I recently learned an interesting poker game. How about a round?"
Mammon's interest piqued at the mention of poker. The King of Greed loved gambling—not for the thrill, but for the winnings. "What kind of poker game are we talking about?"
Samael, ever the hothead, shot Mammon a glare that silenced him instantly.
Among the three, Leviathan was undeniably the strongest. Samael was a cut above Mammon, too—back when they were angels in Heaven, Samael led an entire angelic legion, while Mammon was just a run-of-the-mill eight-winged angel.
Leviathan, lazily flicking its serpentine tongue, fixed its slitted golden eyes on Hannibal. "Enough with the nonsense, Beelzebub. Let's get to the point. Have you thought about what I proposed last time?"
Hannibal's smile didn't falter. "Well, your suggestion was very constructive from an objective standpoint. But subjectively, it's got a few flaws. I've been studying it thoroughly, analyzing it carefully, trying to pinpoint the issues behind those flaws to come up with an even better proposal. So, I—"
Hannibal had spent enough time among humans to master the art of corporate-style empty rhetoric. He'd clearly attended his fair share of seminars over the years.
Mammon was practically dizzy from Hannibal's word salad, while Samael's temper flared. Only Leviathan, ever patient like the serpent it was, seemed amused.
"Enough!" Samael snapped, a volcano on the verge of erupting. "What are you even trying to say?"
Leviathan intervened, stopping Samael's outburst. "Samael, calm down. Let him keep talking. We've got plenty of time. I'm curious how much more nonsense he can spout."
Leviathan saw through Hannibal's game: he was deliberately trying to rile Samael up. The seven demon kings of hell knew each other inside and out, their dynamics as old as time.
Samael, realizing Hannibal's intent, felt his anger flare again. "You're doing this on purpose!"
Hannibal, his ploy exposed, shrugged nonchalantly. "Don't get mad, Samael. Just a little joke."
Samael's eyes glowed redder, teetering on the edge of a full-blown rage. The two had history—back when Beelzebub was still Baal, a Canaanite deity, defeated by Heaven's forces led by Lucifer and Samael. That defeat sent Baal to hell, where he eventually became Beelzebub, the King of Gluttony.
Leviathan spoke up again. "Samael, don't let his words get to you. I'll handle this."
Samael, barely containing his fury, stormed off a short distance, knowing he'd explode if he kept talking to Hannibal.
"Beelzebub, I've given you plenty of time to think. Still no answer?" Leviathan pressed.
Hannibal chuckled. "This decision could shape my future. I need enough time to think it over properly. A year's not that long for us, is it?"
"I want an answer now!" Leviathan's aura surged, pressing down on Hannibal.
Hannibal took a step back, feigning weakness. "Easy, Leviathan! I just need a little time. I'm a bit of a slow burn, you know."
"Don't give me that nonsense! Keep stalling, and the apocalypse will be here before you decide!"
Hannibal's expression shifted subtly. "So, you've already seen signs of the apocalypse?"
Leviathan's aura retracted, its golden eyes narrowing. "No. But isn't it obvious the end is coming?"
Both demon kings were lying, each probing the other. Leviathan suspected Hannibal had been approached by others, while Hannibal was certain Leviathan had seen signs of the apocalypse—perhaps the Four Horsemen, which Elizabeth hadn't mentioned to him.
After a round of mutual testing, each had gleaned some intel.
"Let's be real, Leviathan," Hannibal said. "I don't want to pick a side. I just want to live quietly as the King of Gluttony, enjoying my food."
Leviathan gave him a long look. "Is that so? Because I get the feeling that's not what you're thinking."
"An illusion, surely!" Hannibal said, waving it off. "You three demon kings teaming up—do you really need a small fry like me?"
Hannibal played humble, but Leviathan wasn't buying it. "If you join us, we'd have four demon kings—more than half. Who could stand against us then?"
Mammon chimed in. "Exactly, Beelzebub. With us together, not even Heaven could stop us!"
Mammon was trying to stoke Hannibal's old grudge against Heaven and God, who'd turned him into the monstrous fly he was now. But unlike Samael, Hannibal wasn't easily provoked. His hatred for Heaven was buried deep, not something he'd act on impulsively.
"I'll stick with my earlier stance," Hannibal said. "Or maybe you could give me a bit more time to think it over."
Leviathan's patience, vast as it was, was wearing thin. Its eyes glinted with a threat. "Beelzebub, it seems we can't be allies. If you keep rejecting my goodwill, we might just become enemies."
Hannibal quickly smoothed things over. "No need for that! If Lucifer heard about this, he'd laugh at us. And if we can't be allies, we can at least be friends, right?"
It was pure nonsense—trust didn't exist among demon kings, only shared interests. Without trust, what kind of friendship could there be?
"Then give me one reason to consider you a friend," Leviathan challenged.
"I may not join your plans directly, but I can help in other ways. You've come all the way to Earth—not an easy trip. Got any problems I can solve for you?"
Leviathan and Mammon exchanged a glance, and in unison, they said, "Roy Blake!"
Samael, hearing the name from a distance, immediately lost it. "Why are you bringing up that damned name?!"
Hannibal's eyes gleamed with curiosity. He hadn't expected so many demon kings to know Roy Blake. All three had suffered major losses at Roy's hands—Samael most of all, who'd not only been beaten soundly but also lost his ex-wife to Roy.
Leviathan caught Hannibal's odd look and grew wary. "You know that name?"
"Of course," Hannibal replied, opening his car door and pulling out a newspaper. The front-page headline featured a photo of Roy spotted in Beverly Hills.
Leviathan nodded, its suspicion easing. "That's the guy. Hannibal, if you can help us deal with him, we'll let you stay neutral and won't bother you again."
Hannibal made a show of relief, then looked at Leviathan with curiosity. "What's so special about this guy that you all need to take him down?"
Leviathan sidestepped the question—those were dark chapters it wouldn't share with an outsider. "That's for you to find out. We just want results."
"What kind of results? Just kill him, or rough him up first?" Hannibal asked.
Samael jumped in immediately. "I want to torment his body!"
Mammon chimed in with his own demand. "I want him to lose everything!"
And finally, Leviathan's request: "Hand over his soul. I want him to suffer eternal torment."
Hannibal's curiosity spiked. What had Roy done to these three demon kings to make them lose their cool at the mere mention of his name?
"Alright, I'll do my best to meet your demands. But you've got to give me some intel, right? If I'm starting from scratch, who knows how long it'll take."
Leviathan saw the logic in that. Hannibal was notorious for dragging things out, and they couldn't give him an excuse to stall.
"Samael, don't you have a few souls connected to Roy Blake? Hand them over to Beelzebub," Leviathan said.
Samael snorted. "Fine. Let this guy go to hell himself to get them. I'm a bit tied up right now."
"Intel's all I need! Just wait for my good news!" Hannibal said.
Leviathan's gaze remained heavy with pressure. "Beelzebub, this is your last chance. Don't disappoint me."
"No way! I'm a man of my word. You three leaving already? Why not stay for dinner?"
Before he could finish his pleasantries, Samael and Mammon collapsed to the ground, their human hosts turning into withered corpses before crumbling to ash. The two demon kings had possessed ordinary humans and discarded their bodies once they were done.
As for Leviathan, it had likely possessed an anaconda from some zoo, now reduced to a puddle of goo on the ground.
The surroundings returned to normal, and the smile on Hannibal's face slowly faded.
"What a hassle," he muttered.
Then, as if sensing something, Hannibal looked off into the distance. "Looks like I need to move."
Leviathan
read my new story America Horror : Demon never sleep.