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“I’m not crazy!” I screech. I take a deep, calming breath and arrange the smile back on my face. “I’m just passionate.”
You can’t hide from fate. That’s the funny thing about destiny, even if you try to escape it, it will always find you.
When you carry a demon in your soul, it rots you from the inside out. Black, rotting teeth is a big indicator.
Not a single soul passes through the threshold of this house without me casting judgment—determining if evil resides in their soul. As they make their way through the maze of my dollhouse, I watch from inside the walls. They’re all judged. Every single one of them.
If one fails, I sing my songs and my henchmen will lead them away—separate them from family or friends. And when they’re well and truly alone, I strike.
They’re never to be seen again, and I’ve cleansed this world...
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Mommy deserved to stay pure, too. And even though she’ll never get to experience it, her flowers wilted so I could be born into this world and create a new world—one without evil.
Killing someone without a good reason would be a sin. Most people don’t have the guts to do what I do, serve this world the way I do. But to kill an innocent person? I don’t even want to consider it.
I’d want to be a spider. I’d love for my house to symbolize them one year so I can dress up as a spider queen and sink my teeth into a sinner’s throat.
Her rapist boyfriend will be in my house. And I… I will cleanse this world again tonight. And set Jennifer free.
He’s not God’s disciple. He’s Lucifer’s little bitch.
“You have the nose of a bloodhound. You’re not going to miss any demons that come through this house,” Mortis says, his tone a tad breathless, but stern. I swallow and nod my head.
she’s trying to find life and a thrill in someone dangerous. If only it means she feels a little less dead inside.
This is why I’m here. This is my purpose. To protect my garden of flowers from wilting because of people like Gary and Daddy.
After some maneuvering, I lift Gary up from underneath his arms and drag him towards the door. I’m a lot stronger than most would give me credit for. My height doesn’t crest past five-five, but I’ve always insisted on carrying the demons once they’ve been knocked out. Most of the time, I’m the one doing the knocking out. My henchmen will do anything for me, but I like to take care of them myself.
No one has ever heard a demon calling for help in my house. And they never fucking will.
I want to tell her that I’m taking care of her—that she no longer has to worry about her rapist.
I’m feeling particularly savage. God help the souls that will feel my wrath.
There’s no redemption for people like Gary. They never learn their lesson. They get a slap on the wrist and then go on with their lives, torturing women for the sake of inflating their self-worth. Truth is, they don’t have any worth, and they know that. They’re lost souls, wandering the Earth, searching for something they will never find.
My henchmen don’t kill the demons—they leave that to me. But they do enjoy hurting them.
“See, Mortis? I’m learning!” I exclaim, pointing at the chopped-up man. Mortis offers a small smile and a nod. He doesn’t show emotion much, but the gleam in his eye tells me he’s amused. “Good job, baby girl,” he murmurs.
Breathing out a sigh, I turn and go find my Mace—a long, skinny wooden bat covered in spikes.
“How do you feel?” Baine asks, his voice barely above a whisper. He talks like he’s a ghost.
“I’m hoping some of them come through Satan’s Affair,” I say aloud. Then, “What if more than one come through?” I muse. Surprisingly, that hasn’t happened yet. More than one evil soul coming through my house at once. “How would I choose?” Baine is silent for a moment. His bony, white fingers drift
over my skin, eliciting goosebumps from my flesh. I shiver beneath his touch. His fingers trail across my stomach. “Who says you have to choose? Kill them all, Sibby.”
I want to know who she was before she let someone destroy her so deeply.
I lost some of the red out of my heart in that moment, replaced by a deep, bottomless black. I feel so, so black.
But you can’t silence heartbreak. It’s loud and painful. Even after you grieve and heal, it lingers in the background, sliding back into your life just when you think you’ve overcome it.
“Everything will be okay soon, Sibby. You’re stronger than I am. That’s why you’re the only one that can stand up to Leonard. You have fire in you that I simply do not possess.” She pauses and takes a deep breath, as if she’s gathering strength for what she’s going to say next. “Which is why you’re the only one who can stop him.”
But this man… this man’s soul was forged in Hell. This… thing was never human. Not in this lifetime.
Just like Lucifer with Eve. She didn’t eat an apple. Lucifer fucked her and ruined her for all men. And then tossed her aside because she could never be Lilith.
The front door creaks open, but instead of the sinister older man, it’s two beautiful girls. My smile drops and I feel disappointment for a moment before their smell fills the air. Immediately, I’m hit by the smell of jasmine and roses.
The door creaks open, and a shadow casts over the white wooden floors before a large man steps through, a hood pulled over his head. I suck in a sharp breath, my eyes widening at the stature of the man. He’s not as big as Cronus, but he’s the largest man I’ve ever seen. No, it’s not his size. It’s the way he carries himself. This isn’t just any man. This is a dangerous man. I inhale, and nearly choke on the scent of him. He doesn’t smell rotten, but he smells of fire and brimstone and something… sweet. Like… like burnt roses.
“Your soul is made of brimstone and fire,” I whisper, stepping closer to him. “Come to me, little demon. I’ll show you what the devil really looks like.”
I scramble upwards, expecting to see Jackal hauling him back into the room. But that doesn’t happen. I hear a grunt, and by the time I’m skidding out into the dark hallway, Jackal is flat on his back.
“My name isn’t Zack. Call me Z.” At the mention of his nickname, Mark’s eyes widen almost comically. Like one of those anime characters with eyes too big for their faces. “Z? Y-you’re Z? The Z?”
“Now you’re going to stop me from demon slaying?!” I shriek, my voice pitching to near hysteria. “Little girl, there’s quite a few things you need to get serious help for, but I’d say anger management is top of the list.”
“No, but that’s the only thing we do that you have a chance of putting a stop to—as small as it is. The rest is deep operations within the government, a lot of it specifically to keep control over the people and make them think they have any control over what happens in their lives.”
“If you lie, your death will be slow. My demon slayer and I have plenty of ideas on how to make it the most painful last hours of your miserable life.” I shiver from his words. From the deep timber in which he speaks and how he claimed me as his. I smile big. I have my first friend.
I hope he gets along with my henchmen. I’m sure once they get over their initial suspicions, they'll accept him into our little group. As a brother, and as a friend. Just like I’m already starting to.
But he didn’t smell like rot—not like the true demons do. The hint of burnt roses told me that while he’s dangerous, he’s not dangerous towards the innocent.
“You’re not normal?” I ask, my curiosity piquing. “The interesting people never are, demon slayer.”
“Will I see you again?” The question makes me feel vulnerable.

