love witch . michael langdon

prologue

prologue

VERA BLACKWOOD COULD SMELL A ROTTEN SOUL from a kilometer away. It was one of her special abilities as a higher Demon – she'll know automatically which can kind of humans can easily be pushed to do dark deeds. But it doesn't mean that she was used to the smell. It was an unbearable, acid-y scent of decaying flesh mixed with the putridness of the sewers. She couldn't eat their souls; she'd rather sent them to her Master, the Devil. Vera didn't like to feel the after-effects of the darkness in them. She didn't enjoy them.

Her Stuart Weitzman blood red stilettos clicked loudly against the tiled floor as she made her way to her newest client. Glancing around the dingy motel room, Vera stopped herself from grimacing in distaste. Her enhanced eyesight could make out the disgusting stains in the yellowish wall of the old, decaying building. But nothing could compare to the intensity of the desperation oozing from the man inside Room 1665.

Knocking three times on the door, Vera knew that she would've saved herself from the trouble if she had just materialized herself inside the room. But she decided that doing so wasn't that fun and dramatic. She loved being the dramatic bitch from Hell. And besides, Vera didn't like revealing her true self to her clients. The demon side of her always preferred to remain in the dark. She loved to appear as the sweet and innocent blonde girl sent by the Church of Night as one of their soul contractor, as what she'd like to call it. If one of her clients tried to make a move on her, they wouldn't know what's coming.

The door creaked open, a man with disheveled dark brown hair and unshaven face peeking through the small opening. He raised an eyebrow at her appearance, red-rimmed, tired eyes discreetly eyeing her from head to toe. Vera sneered internally when she noticed that he stared longer at the fair amount of cleavage she had under display. Her black Gucci dress wasn't short, but it was tight-fitting and clung to her like second skin. She could already see into his rotten soul, the kind of man he was before he dug himself into a deep hole. A man who preyed on younger girls, particularly the interns at the office he was working at, until he got caught by his boss. He lost everything because of that – his wife and his daughter who was disgusted by his actions. The controversy also rendered him unable to find any job. Glancing at the man, she was excited to deliver his soul to the Devil and for him to suffer in his own personal hell.

"Mr. Roberts?" She asked firmly, the man nodding in response. He opened the door for her, letting her slip inside the barely cleaned small. Vera realized that it smelled of used cigarettes and cans of half-empty beers. She decided to sit in one of the brown cushion chair near the window, eyeing Mr. Roberts cautiously with a blank expression on her face. "What is it that you seek?"

Making himself comfortable as he sat at the foot of the queen sized bed, his eyes shifted to her. "Come again?"

"You're joining the Church of Satan, correct?" Vera pressed further, slowly pulling out a piece of paper from leather case file. "You must tell me what your heart desires so I could send you to the right direction."

"A job and my wife and daughter back," Mr. Roberts sniffed as if he was recalling a particularly painful memory, "Could you do that?"

"Yes," Vera crossed her legs, her lips curling up into a sadistic smirk as her brown eyes sparkled, "And so much more," She handed the piece of paper towards the man, "Now, please sign this paper, Mr. Roberts. It will seal the deal."

The man wiped his eyes with the back of his hands as he search around for a pen, but before he could do that, she stopped him, "No. You have to sign it with your blood."

Reaching for her bag, she pulled out the small dagger inside it, before she handed it towards Mr. Roberts, "Here, use this."

"Is this necessary?" He asked as he reached for the knife after smoothing down the crumpled white shirt he was wearing.

"Yes," Vera inched forward, pulling down at the hems of her dress, "But you still have to attend the Black Mass at the Church."

Breathing deeply, Mr. Roberts hissed as he made a small incision on his palm, the sharpness of the dagger drawing crimson blood. Vera's mouth watered a bit upon seeing the liquid drip onto the whiteness of the sheet of paper, but she grinned maliciously when she saw his signature at the end of the paper.

"Welcome to the life of being Satan's bitch, Mr. Roberts," She told him, her tone wicked and venomous, "I hope you enjoy the most of it."

A/N: finally posted a chapter under this revamp

hope y'all like it!

dedicated to @-softmichael   cause she's excited for this and she's awesome

love bela xx.