A soft groan has me opening my eyes.
It takes several moments for me to make sense of my surroundings.
I’m in the room where I was summoned.
The human—the verynot deadhuman—is sitting up, hair pointing in every direction as I stop beneath the doorframe. Her back is to me as she slowly rolls her head from side to side.
I internally sigh as she winces. It takes several more seconds before she presses her hand to her neck—right where I snapped it.
She should be dead. Why the fuck isn’t she?
I didn’t ask to be here—I have no reason to be. The last time I came across someone as innocent looking as her was several lifetimes ago, when I was human and most definitely not mixing with hellhounds and the most vile, evil creatures known to the world.
It’s throwing me off that she doesn’t smell like death.
Hmm.
Do I snap her neck again to make sure, or is she a demon in disguise and this is all one big test or trick, and I’m actually still in Hell?
My eyes dart to the body beside her.
Ah. I see what this is now.
She groans, and the sound punches me in the gut. Why did that sound so h?—
Focus.
Her body very languidly turns toward me, her attention drawn by the annoyed sound leaving my throat. For a long second, her eyes stray down my immortal body, which towers over her, impossibly tall—thanks to death and the curse and all—before her lips part.
But no words come out.
I raise a brow, waiting, but I’m still met with silence. Not even her dull, ghostly beating heart can fill the quiet surrounding us.
“What’s happening?” she finally asks, her voice surprisingly soft.
“You’re dead,” I say bluntly, turning away to leave her staring blankly at her hands.
“How can I be dead?” she rasps, making me pause.
I roll my eyes and face her again. “It’s simple,” I reply, closing the distance between us. That fragile little neck of hers cracks with barely any force. “Just like that.”
Her body drops again, crumpling to the floor, her face in full view this time. I tilt my head, acknowledging that if she were in Hell, I’d fuck her. “How unfortunate. You’re too pretty to be a pile of flesh and bones.”
Too bad my soul has been ripped to shreds after years of torture—there’s no hint of humanity left for a girl who was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“Stay dead this time,” I huff, leaving the room and following the path I took earlier.
Only this time, I head for the foyer and shove open the big, creaking doors, welcoming the outside air as my feet carry me down the steps. Trepidation and exhilaration have me walking faster, toward the forest up ahead.
There must be a mistake because my old boss cursed me to suffer in Hell for eternity. I shouldn’t have escaped. I should’ve been sucked back into the flames by now, or the Tor’Oths should’ve come for me, but the more time passes, the more I wonder… Did my curse break? Am I no longer bound to Hell? Can I find Dylan now?
I’m not sure how much time has passed in the real world because time works differently in Hell. Dylan might still be out there, and if he is, then I’m going to find him, apologize for breaking my promise, and make it up to him for leaving.
I barely remember the way he used to struggle to say my name, how he’d cry when his stomach was empty, how he needed me to tell him stories so he could fall asleep.
I inhale lungfuls of clean, crisp night air. It’s odd not to taste ash in the back of my throat or feel the blistering heat against my skin.
My foot is hovering above the ground, mid-step, when everything morphs around me once more. Dizziness takes over, the skies vanish, and I walk into the room with the dead girl again.
