Chapter One: A Hell of a Deal

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Fragrant soap mixed with thick white face paint in the base of the porcelain tub, racing toward the drain in bubbly streams. It couldn't be seen, or smelled like the soft floral scent of roses from the suds, but mixed in were also a demon girl's tears, cried bitterly under the hot spray.

Samara scrubbed viciously at her skin until the soft petal pink turned an angry red and burned under the onslaught. There seemed to be nothing she could do to rinse the shame from her. It had been two years since she'd died. She'd survived two cleansings, with the most recent being a couple of weeks ago.

She had been 'lucky' enough to be taken under the wing of the high-ranked demon Mammon. He'd offered his protection from the Angels in exchange for favors. What exactly those favors entailed changed from day to day.

The closest thing she could call herself was his errand girl or personal assistant. No one had been there to warn Samara of the dangers of accepting deals from demons, especially high ranking ones.

When she arrived in Hell it had been just before the first cleansing she'd ever witnessed, and she had been horrified, had almost died again. She'd had no place to hide and took the only out she could see...

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Samara's shoes splashed through puddles of slick blood as she scrambled through the streets. Horrifying shrieks and screams echoed from all directions, and the bodies littering the soaked pavement resembled pincushions with the jagged spears and knives sticking out of them.

'What is happening?! Where can I hide?'

She sobbed as she ran, fear propelling her forward though she had no idea where she was going. She'd just died not hours before & she knew she was in Hell. She had no help, no knowledge of this place. All of the surrounding buildings were boarded up against the enemy, which was Angels of all things!

Angels who were supposed to be light, winged creatures that looked after humans, or so that's how they had seemed in the stories she'd been told when she was alive and a little girl. She'd been told that everyone had a guardian angel to protect them.

So, where was hers now? Every door she'd banged on and begged to be let into had remained barred while the fearful inhabitants inside had screamed at her to fuck off before she drew too much attention.

The Angels circled above like vultures with sinister glowing Cheshire grins, plucking off others as they chose. So far they'd ignored her presence. That changed quickly however as more of the other civilians fell and there were less targets to keep them distracted.

Three of the winged fiends descended silently and quickly as an owl, and dropped down to surround the terrified girl, who slipped on a pile of viscera and came crashing to her knees. She scooted away from the Angel whose feet she'd fallen at only to nearly bump into the knees of the one behind her. A razor sharp, vicious-looking spear was quickly brought to her throat as they closed in. They never spoke, even when Samara started to shriek and beg for her life.

'This is it!' She thought, whimpering when the blade began to draw blood.

There was no mercy in their gaze, they simply looked at her like cats who'd caught a plump rat and were playing with their prey.

'What will happen to my soul? Can I die again?'

She shut her eyes as one of them, the tallest of the trio, loomed above her and raised its weapon to finish her off. Just as it began to plunge straight for her heart, a voice called out in a clear and demanding bark.

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