The Burning Rogues: Burning With Rage (Book 1)

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Burn in Hell for all Eternity... The only way into Hell was to be dragged there, kicking and screaming. Or dead. It wasn't the sort of place you casually popped into, especially not as a human. But humans were Lucifers favourite, and he preferred them as slaves. Which brings us to The Rogues Of Hell. Rage is the quiet but deadly assassin that is falling behind on his human quota, meaning he has to surface to find new prey. If he fails, his punishment would be to be banished to Earth as a lost soul for all Eternity, and none of the Rogues want that. But where there is bad, there is good, and Rage has to fight for his own place in the Universe. The last thing he anticipated was the stoking of the Twin Flames, and this endangers both him, and everyone around him. Especially her. WARNING- THIS BOOK MAY CONTAIN MENTIONS OF THINGS SOME READERS MAY FIND UPSETTING. SUICIDE, GRIEF, LOSS, ABUSE. FEATURES GRAPHIC SEX AND EROTICA. BE WARNED BEFORE READING. THANK YOU.

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Chapter 1


"Rage. You can't go up there without taking a human form, you'll cause panic amongst the little ants."

The voice dripped in irony, and I growled in response. It knew how much I detested hearing it speak, yet it insisted on following me around, its pungent scent invading my nostrils as it did so. I heard it laugh, before I reached the cool glass door that led me to my master.

The doors open and I notice Master is in his naked form, and I avert my eyes. As he walks, humans follow him on their knees, their souls his to torture for all eternity.

"Rage. What will it be today? Envy? Greed? Lust?"

"Temptation," I mutter, as he grins sardonically. A door appears to my right, beside the elaborate furnace.

"Take your pick. They are riddled with flaws, the silly bastards. Gambling is my personal favourite, nothing beats a desperate loser."

At that moment there is a loud rumble, and a group of what used to be humans arrive via the chute, their eyes black and soulless.

The transformed.

They speak in the old tongue, and I wait impatiently before the Master whips his head to me.

"I can't wait to see what you do this time. Go."

I nod, remembering the words of the Incubus earlier.

Human form, right.

My human form was of no real description to me. It must please the humans though, because men nod at me respectfully, and women gaze at me hungrily. I stand against a wall, reaching in my pocket to find it filled with cigarettes and cash.


The many thoughts of the humans almost made me giddy with excitement, as I sifted through them to find my target. I needed something decent today, my past couple of months had been shit. Chaos was smashing it, dragging back hoards of humans and chalking up his score. The reason he was so good was because he was so...bad.

Evil in fact.

He had recently possessed a young girl, causing her to walk straight off a cliff in a seemingly shocking suicide. Of course, he had then focused on the mourners, the Mother drinking too much vodka with her sleeping pills whilst the Dad beat a man to death with his bare hands. Her sister became a whore, left with no one to look after her properly.

Chaos had no morals. Chaos didn't care. If anything he liked to antagonise the angels, and I knew his ultimate aim was to ensnare one in a trap for his own amusement. I could only imagine the torture one would endure under his evil touch.

I watched the humans scurry around aimlessly, not knowing that should I choose to, I could make them burn internally and drop dead. But you know, I didn’t always resort to that level of depravity.

I hate my life...I need a way out...before they kill me…

Ooh. This seemed interesting. I inhaled my cigarette before glancing around, my eyes locating the speaker. He wasn’t on the street, it turned out he was down an alley, in a most horrific position. A knife was to his throat, his eyes swollen shut as the blood poured from his nose. From my quick glance, I saw some of his teeth on the floor, along with most of the blood in his body. He was fading fast, and the man that held the blade had began to lose interest in his now weak victim.

"Good evening, gentlemen."

The man that held my interest was in the arms of another burly guy, his dark eyes narrowing as he glared at me. These two certainly had the makings of future demons if I'd ever saw them.

"Who the fuck are you? You want some, brother?" Blade holder spat, staring at me through cold, dead eyes. He was deadly, of that I had no doubt. But a bad human was no match for me. Not when I knew everything about him in two seconds flat.

"Which question shall I answer first, Dean?"


"First of all, no. I haven't fucked your mother. I have incredibly high standards, and anyone that produced you has no way of meeting them."

I glance at my prey, before holding time still around us. I only had a minute, tops. But it would be enough.

"Dylan, I'm going to assume you owe these men here a lot of money. I'm not your mama, and I don't plan on lecturing you on the drugs. You're what, nineteen? Shit. You've got a sister and a mother back home, so why don't you and I come to an agreement. I'll pay these fuckers what you owe, and you agree to my conditions."

The boy tries to lift his head, but instead coughs violently. He didn't have long left.

"Dylan, if you want me to save you, son, you're gonna need to agree. Verbally is standard, but I'll accept a nod, or a thumbs up."

I light another cigarette, inhaling on it deeply before crouching down beside the boy. He nods, and I smile.

"I'll be needing your soul, is that alright?"

At that moment a flicker of blue appears beside him, and I realise his angel has arrived.

"Too late baby, boy gave the nod. Unless… you can offer him something better, he ain't walking into your shitty light."

Before the angel could materialise, my boy nodded again, as my manipulation on time ran out.

"Listen fucker-" started my burly friend, as I gripped them both by their throats. I walked with ease to the end of the alleyway, before placing them down like rag dolls.

"Leave," I growl, as they scramble backwards in disbelief, their instincts telling them to run. One pissed a little in his pants, but he wasn't my concern.

Dylan was.

I turn back to see Dylan lying on the floor with laboured breathing, and as I study him I wonder how it felt to be so fragile. I hoist him onto my shoulder, before dragging the chalk out of my pocket. I was pleased to see the do gooder had disappeared, back to the magical light no doubt. I drew a door on the wall, pushing through it into a hospital ward.

Instantly nurses and doctors surrounded poor Dylan, but there wouldn't be much to do. His internal injuries were mending as we spoke, and I took the time to see if there was anyone else worth ruining.

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