Your POV

I walked back to my apartment, keys in hand ready to open the door. A little package sat up against its frame, my name written across in beautiful calligraphy. Below it said "from L". I was surprised to know the devil had studied calligraphy, but then again there is only so much to do when you live forever.

Picking up the package with my left hand, I unlocked the door with the other and let myself into my building. I took the stairs two at a time, eager to see what was awaiting inside the package, and worried that if I waited too long I would lose the chance to get back my soul.

As soon as I had entered my apartment I tore open the package and dumped the contents onto the counter. Two stacks of money fell out along with a dagger, a glock, and a suspiciously large amount of ammo. Was he expecting me to shoot people?

"Yes, I am actually," his deep voice echoed through my apartment.

I turned quickly, pulling the gun up to his face. It was inches away from him, and he only grinned.

"The safety is on," he chuckled, grabbing the gun from my hands before I could stop him. Instead I kneed him in the stomach. My first mistake of the evening.

He let out a low growl and I swore I could see flames burning in his irises. I pulled the same move he had on me, snatching the gun from his hands, turning off the safety, and returning it to its position in front of his face within 5 seconds.

"You were saying?" I asked, allowing myself to grin.

"I knew I'd chosen wisely, but watch yourself. Kick me again and you won't have anything to kick with."

I rolled my eyes and collected all the things from inside the package.

"So why did you bother coming here when you saw me half an hour ago?"

"Well there was something I had forgotten to add to your package, so I came to bring it by. And I also couldn't resist pulling the gun on you. You'll make quite the bounty hunter.

"You'll make quite the bounty hunter," I mocked, rolling my eyes again. Lately the devil had become more of a joke than a scare.

"You forget you are still mortal," he growled, tracing his sharp nails along my spine, and poking me sharply between my shoulder blades.

I spun around, grabbed his arm, and pulled it behind his back before he could react.

"And you forget what I can do," I said, loosening my grip on him and walking away. I needed to shower and change if I was to start on this list tonight.

"I'm glad you're so eager to get started. See you when the task is done." He disappeared without another word as I blinked, leaving the space where he stood empty, except for a holster lying on the floor. This must be what he wanted to give me. I set it on the counter with my other acquired items and left to take a shower.

I made my shower quick, barely leaving time for the water to warm up. Pulling on a pair of leather pants and a long sleeve black shirt, I walked into the kitchen to retrieve my holster. I attached it, setting the dagger and gun on each of my hips and the ammo in a small pocket.

Running back to my small bedroom, I grabbed my combat boots from the closet and tied my dripping hair into a bun. I didn't need it getting in my way while I worked. After knotting my boots tight I grabbed my key and the laminated paper, studying it closely. It read as follows,

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ ʟɪsᴛ:

ᴊᴇᴀɴɴᴇ-ᴘᴀᴜʟ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇᴛ
ʟᴀsᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ʟᴏᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ : ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴄʜɪɴ ʜᴏsᴘɪᴛᴀʟ
ɴᴏᴇᴍɪ ɢᴇɴᴅʀᴏɴ
ʟᴀsᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ʟᴏᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ : ᴄᴇɴᴛʀᴀʟ ʜᴏᴛᴇʟ ᴘᴀʀɪs
ɢᴀʀʀᴇᴛ ʟᴀɪɴᴇ
ʟᴀsᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ʟᴏᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ : ʀᴀɪᴅᴅ ʙᴀʀ
ᴇᴍɪʟɪᴇ ᴀʙʙᴇ
ʟᴀsᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ʟᴏᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ : ᴜɴᴋɴᴏᴡɴ
ɢᴜʏ ʟᴀᴄᴀssᴇ
ʟᴀsᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ʟᴏᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ : ᴜɴᴋɴᴏᴡɴ
ᴄʜʀɪsᴛᴏᴘʜᴇʀ ᴄʜᴇɴᴇᴠᴇʀᴛ
ʟᴀsᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ʟᴏᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ : ᴜɴᴋɴᴏᴡɴ

The first three people would be a breeze to find, but the last three would be all but impossible. It didn't help that they had popular French last names.

I tied up my hair into a tight bun and put on a pair of dark sunglasses. The more I could hide my face, the better. I then grabbed the gun the dagger, fastening them to the holster he had given me. The gun was loaded but a brought two more rounds of ammo just in case. I was intending to find the first three people by the end of the day, but I didn't want to test my luck. Taking my trench coat from my coatrack, I put it on and made sure it covered my gun and dagger. It was definitely a better option to hide the weapons, since I didn't have any type of gun license, especially not for France.

Grabbing my keys again, I swiftly unlocked my apartment door, stepped outside and relocked it again. I was half way down the street when I realized I had forgotten the laminate paper with the names and locations of the people, but the more I thought about it, I realized I remembered everything I needed. When I was sick and subject to endless bedrest, I found I could memorize things very easily. It would come in handy now.

The fist person would be the easiest. Jean-Paul was at the Cochin Hospital, five blocks from where I was. I passed it often on the way to the cafe.

Not even two minutes into my walk I could feel someone watching me. Looking around me, I noticed a man across the street reading a newspaper with two very conveniently placed holes. I only rolled my eyes and continued walking. You would think the King of Hell had better things to do than watch me all the time. But what can I say? Boredom makes us do weird things. It had made me summon Satan.

After another few minutes of walking through the bustling French crowds on the streets, I made it to the hospital. Walking inside, I made my way to the service desk up front.

"Bonjour Madame," I greeted. "Je suis ici pour voir mon frère Jean-Paul Collet." (Im here to see my brother.)

"Oui, madame," the nurse at the desk agreed, before shuffling through her papers. She looked up at me and then down at her papers again. Shit.

"Madame, pardonnez-moi, mais n'est-il pas trop vieux pour être votre frère?" She asked, eyeing me closely. (M'am, forgive me, but isn't he too old to be your brother?)

"Oh, Oui! Ai-je dit "frère"? Je suis desolé, je veux dire père. Mon français n'est pas bon." I laughed nervously and watched her closely, holing she had bought it. (Oh, yes! Did I say brother? I'm sorry, I mean to say father. My French isn't very good.)

"Oh, d'accord! Il est dans la chambre 107."
(He is in room 107.)

"Oui, d'accord. Merci beaucoup!" I responded, turning to head down the hallway. I hadn't realized this nurse would be so hard to convince, but I understood she was just doing her job.

I followed the numbers along the rooms until I found 107. It was at the end of the hall and close to the back entrance of the hospital. It was perfect.

I knocked on the door once before peeking my head in the room. The man was watching TV on his small hospital bed. I realized what the nurse meant when she asked if I meant brother. He must have been at least 40 years old.

"Je suis desolé, mais je viens avec un message de Lucifer," I said, slowly making my way to the mans bed. (I'm sorry to bother you, but I come with a message from Lucifer.)

I realized then that I should have started more subtly. The man suddenly pulled out a cross from within his shirt and began yelling for a nurse. Acting upon instinct I rushed forward, covered his mouth and whispered quietly to him, "ne bougez pas. Lucifer m'a envoyé pour vous prévenir. Vous lui devez une dette qu'il faut payer." (Do Not move. Lucifer sent me to warn you, you have not paid your debt.)

"Il vient pour toi," I said as a last word of warning. (He's coming for you.)

Hearing the nurses feet thundering down the hallway, I realized the mans heart monitor had began beeping furiously. I knew I had to go. Bounding towards the window I threw it open, and leapt out, easily landing on my feet.

I only hoped the rest of the people would be as easy as this, but then again, what was like without a little risk. Game on Lucifer, game on.