Wylla Adler believed there was malice in everyone, even the nicest of people.

The 'bad people of the world' just wanted to survive, like her. Maybe that's why she was jealous of how luxurious her new friend, Paisley Ambrose's house was. "Help yourself to some treats," she said casually in her hot pink PJs.

Wylla eyed the candy and treats, wanting to steal it all. Wylla herself knew she wasn't a kind person, but living in the slums taught her to take everything you could. Before she got the scholarship to Eulalie Academy, she lived in the poorest and most lousy area of Baskerville, having to fight to survive.

Of course, Wylla wasn't going to let anyone know. She spent her first few months at the academy, ensuring she got into the best social groups; it had succeeded since she was at Paisley's house.

"I'll take some Skittles," Wylla said, shoving a few packets of Skittles in her pockets.

"I guess you're not afraid of gaining a few pounds like other girls, Wylla," Paisley said in a I'm-kidding-but-being-a-smug-bitch-at-the-same-time kind of voice. It appeared that Wylla wasn't the only person with malice. "Let's go watch a movie in my bedroom, are you okay with Mean Girls?"

How fitting, Wylla thought. "Sure."

They went up the staircase and Wylla jogged behind Paisley. Paisley was a pretty girl, she had tanned skin with cute freckles, her dyed blond hair swishing behind her waist. "I already watched Mean Girls, like a ton of times, but I bet you haven't."

"Nah, I watched Mean Girls a ton of times too," Wylla said coolly, but it was directed to Paisley. They had made it to Paisley's bedroom, bigger than Wylla's house in the slums. "I love your room, it's so cute."

"Yeah, you can take the red sleeping bag, I'll take the blue," Paisley said as she tried to find the remote connected to the TV in her room. It wasn't an offer, it was an order. "Don't blame me if you fall asleep."

Wylla snorted. "I'll stay up until 3:00 AM if I must."

Paisley went pale. "I-I don't think that's a good idea, er, my mom said we have to go to bed by 11:30 PM. Sucks, right?"

"Totally," she replied, wondering why Paisley was so fixated on going to bed before midnight. Wylla hadn't been to a sleepover in ages, but wasn't the point of sleepovers to stay awake until dawn? "Your house is nice by the way."

"Hm?" Paisley finally found the remote. "Oh, we're planning to move to a bigger one in June."

Wylla gawked at her, taking her place in the red sleeping bag. Don't screw your "friendship" up with her, she bit down on her tongue. She took out her Skittles, munching on the red ones. How can I gain a few pounds by eating a pack of freakin' Skittles?

Wylla was slim herself, but she didn't like how her hips would have uneven dips and her chest was as flat as a boy's. She fixed her eyes on Paisley's perfect body, fit for a model.

Paisley sat down next to Wylla. "Mean Girls, here we come."

Wylla had lied, she did fall asleep. She was snoring before Cady had even met Janis and Damien. She had the strangest dream ever, she was still in Paisley's bedroom, but Paisley herself was awake.

She was gathered in a circle with Satanic symbols, thirteen lit candles, and reading verses from a book called Sinner's Bible by a man named Leviathan. Weird, Wylla thought. The author only used his first name.

Paisley mumbled a few words, looking like she was in a cult. Wait, is there an Eulalie Academy cult? Wylla always found cults to be scams. "Paisley," Wylla whispered, but Paisley ignored her, the chanting becoming louder. "PAISLEY!"

Suddenly, the girl snapped out of her trance and the candles blew out. Paisley stood up, spinning around on her heels. "YOU RUINED EVERYTHING!" she shrieked as Wylla backed away. "I was going to meet King Leviathan and be his bride!"

"Paisley, chill the hell out," Wylla warned, stumbling back. "Is this some weird anime cult for a character named King Leviathan? It's cool, I like watching anime too—"

"You don't even understand the gravity of this!" Paisley suddenly pushed Wylla to the floor.

All of a sudden, Wylla jerked upwards. It was just a dream, she thought.

But the real nightmare started.

Wylla was in a bed, not a sleeping bag. She yelped, hopping out of bed, gasping in relief that there wasn't some old man sleeping with her. "What the heck?" Wylla screamed, looking around, clutching her chest.

The bedroom looked straight out of the Victorian Era, maybe something in Buckingham Palace, but very dark. The only source of light was dimly lit candles and Wylla scanned out the window. The infernal fire burned outside, encapsulating the dry and cracked lands beyond.

She gritted her teeth. "Paisley Ambrose, I swear to God, if this is a prank—"

Out of the blue, two women ran inside. "Miss. Ambrose, you're late for the gala—" the first woman stopped short. She had dark skin that looked red and a high slit in her black dress. Two black horns bulged out of her navy pixie cut. "You're not Miss. Ambrose."

"I sure as hell am not! I'm Wylla Adler!" Wylla snarled. "Where the hell am I?"

"You're in Hell, also known as Nadivis," the second woman said, looking more regal than the first one. She had gray skin and wore a red suit, a spiky tail lurking from her bum, and one of her black horns was broken. "Paisley Ambrose was invited to King Leviathan's gala, he's selecting his bride. Although it looks as if something went wrong, you're in her place."

"That's what Paisley was screaming about," Wylla muttered, unsurprised. "Well, send me back up to Earth so that dumb Paisley can come here instead. I just want to go back home and eat Skittles."

"You see, you can only travel back through the vortex after the selection is over," the first lady added, scowling. I'm in Hell, Wylla thought. Well, I always knew I'd end up here when I died. "Please, tell me you're not a goody-two-shoes."

Wylla laughed. "You wish."

The second woman smirked. "I like you already. My name is Kikimora, she's Nocnitsa. The masquerade ball is in an hour, we'll doll you up for King Leviathan. You got a nice pair of legs and arms, we'll show 'em off."

"Thanks?" Wylla said. "We're actually doing this?"

Kikimora snorted. "We already bought the dress."

"Hurry up," Nocnitsa gushed, rolling her eyes. "But we'll make a beauty out of you, Wylla Adler."

As Kikimora and Nocnitsa prepped Wylla, buffing her nails and trying different hairstyles, Wylla thought this was the time to ask questions. "How did you both end up in Hell? I mean—Nadivis."

"I shot my ex-husband in the head," Kikimora grunted, braiding Wylla's hair before deciding to let it hang loose. "He abused me, hitting me silly every night. I snapped, I didn't want to be his pretty doll, I wanted to be hell to him. So I ended up in Hell."

"What? He abused you, you basically killed him out of self-defense."

"God didn't think so, I sinned after all," she grumbled unhappily as her demon tail whipped through the air. "I got this tail, though."

"I was hit by a car," Nocnitsa said simply and Wylla stared at her. "It was funny, I led a good life. But I was still alive when I got into the car accident, and so was the drunk driver. I lost it, if I was dying, I was bringing him down with me. So I technically also killed someone."

"Damn."

"Stand up, we're finished," Kikimora said, helping Wylla from her chair, and shoving her in front of a mirror. Wylla gasped, feeling like she would burst into tears. She looked so...beautiful.

She wore a layered red-black dress, the tight corset actually showed off a bit of Wylla's flat chest. The dress had a high slit to her thighs but covered her hip dips which she was insecure about. Her chestnut blond hair was down and loose, shining like gold. The exquisite jewelry changed the outfit, and Wylla had talked all day about the dazzling high heels. "You guys...oh my..."

"You look ravishing," Nocnitsa grinned, placing a hand on Wylla's shoulder. "King Leviathan will obviously pick you."

King Leviathan, AKA Satan, the Devil, the Demon King of Hell. I'm freaking seventeen, Wylla thought. She didn't like the idea of him just picking a wife like picking a flower from the garden. Most people view flower-picking as cutesy, but Wylla knows that when the flower is picked, it dies.

I'm not dying, she thought. "Tell me more about Leviathan."

Nocnitsa was taken aback. "Well, he's been ruling for centuries." Wylla wrinkled her nose, Great, he's a billion years old. "Well, the king has a lot of power. Most demons are scared of him."

"But you'll be different," Kikimora declared suddenly. "Today, you woke up in Hell, and instead of freaking out like most mortals, you went head-on. That's what King Leviathan is looking for, that's what Nadivis. You'd be a splendid ruler, you'd change history."

Change history. "Thanks, Kikimora."

She handed Wylla a pair of black sheer, netted gloves. Wylla slipped them on as Nocnitsa tied a red lace masquerade mask around Wylla's face. "It's a masquerade ball, after all, remember, Wylla?"

Wylla allowed a small smile. "Yes. Is...Is King Leviathan cruel?"

The two demons didn't reply. Kikimora sighed, frowning. "He's the Devil, he doesn't have a kind heart. He reminds me of my ex-husband, it's a horrifying thought, Wylla Adler. King Leviathan...let's just say he doesn't treat his women right."

Wylla fiddled with the gloves. "Okay."

"Now, on more pressing matters," Nocnitsa interrupted, pulling Wylla to her feet. They started walking towards the door and Wylla hurried after them. "We have a gala to attend."

Everyone at the doors of the ballroom was beautiful. Wylla felt as if her own dress was nothing compared to the six other women. Kikimora and Nocnitsa kept Wylla Adler near the corner.

Wylla pointed at a girl with pale skin with a gorgeous black dress, having gold detailings. She wore short black gloves and had her black hair pinned up. "Who's that girl?"

"Hala Shang," Kikimora said, crossing her arms. "The other six girls are the other choices for being King Leviathan's wife, in other words, your competition. Don't be fooled, these girls are in Hell for a reason."

"That's Jahi Lin," Nocnitsa whispered in Wylla's ear. Jahi wore a more traditional East Asian dress, dressed in navy and dramatic sleeves. She had cute black bangs and a soft look to her. "I heard Jahi murdered her best friend."

"Oh." Wylla recoiled from Jahi's soft appearance. The other girl in the other corner had a blue, flowy dress with big sapphire gems. There was a certain frost about her that stood out. "What about her? She looks like Elsa from Frozen, or Frozen 2."

"I don't know that film," Nocnitsa said, rubbing the back of her neck. "That's Krasue Haxley. Krasue is a beauty, but she isn't King Leviathan's—ah, what do you youngsters call it—type. He prefers natural beauty, not makeup."

"Bastard," Wylla muttered under her breath. How does Paisley even like this guy?

Kikimora tilted her head. "What did you say?"

"Nothing! I was just asking who that girl in the gray suit was," Wylla covered up quickly, her cheeks red. The girl also stood out, the only woman to wear a suit instead of a gown. She wore black heels and had a pixie cut like Nocnitsa's, but her skin was a faded black.

"That's Onoskelis, she was born a demon, so she knows the rules of Nadivis."

Wylla blinked. "Onosk-what?"

"It's a common name in Hell."

"Of course it is." Wylla fixated her eyes on a girl with a black dress and a flirty expression. It was sheer and allowed to reveal more skin, which was something Wylla desired—self-love. "That girl's pretty, she's going to win Leviathan's hand."

"She goes by Rán," Kikimora pressed a warning hand on Wylla's shoulder. "Rán is beautiful for a reason, she was bred to marry King Leviathan. Don't make friends with her."

"Wasn't planning to," Wylla snapped suddenly, surprising Kikimora and Nocnitsa. There was the last girl who looked discouraging, scowling and barking at her maids. She wore red, having jutted roses trail down her layered black gown. "She looks kind of mean."

"That's Rusalka," Nockitsa said, irritated. Rusalka had her wavy brown hair covering one half of her face, something Wylla found strange. "I heard gossip that she had an accident when travelling the vortex to Nadivis, so her left eye got scarred. She was going to be runner-up for King Leviathan, but...with the scar, it's unlikely she'd be chosen."

"Oh."

"Still, Rusalka will be an enemy, trust us," Kikimora said as someone entered the room. Everyone bowed, so Wylla felt her cheeks heat up when she managed a late sloppy one.

"Someone is new," Rusalka laughed under her breath. Looks like Kikimora was right, Wylla frowned. King Leviathan wasn't what Wylla expected—he wasn't a weird oldie, he looked only a few years older. He wore a black suit that matched his long horns and swinging devil tail.

"Ladies, welcome to Nadivis, I wish you fit in comfortably," King Leviathan said, walking around the foyer like he owned the place. Well, he does, but Wylla didn't like his smugness. "Tomorrow, one of you women will wake up as Hell's new demonic queen."

Suddenly, the doors to the ballroom opened. Nocnitsa tapped Wylla's shoulder. "We'll join you later," she whispered as she and Kikimora slipped back into the shadows. Wylla growled and joined the other selections.

"You must be Paisley Ambrose," Onoskelis said, unimpressed, baring her sharp teeth. Do all demons have sharp teeth? Gosh, kissing must be a pain. "I expected nothing more from a mortal."

"My name is Wylla Adler," Wylla said, her brows knitting together. "And I can assure you, Paisley and I are nothing alike."

"Wylla," Rán said, grinning evilly. "Oh, we'll have a wonderful time."

She was bred to marry King Leviathan, Kikimora has said. "Sorry, can't talk right now," Wylla muttered, brushing past Rán. You're not here to make friends. Survival was what Wylla Adler knew best, but even she questioned how far her malice went.

"So you're the replacement for Paisley," Rusalka said suddenly as they entered the ballroom. It was dazzling, brighter than any area of the palace. It was elegant and exquisite, Wylla just wanted to spin in the center of the ballroom.

Rusalka sneered. "It shows, new girl."

"Okay," Wylla said, crossing her arms. "That's fine with me."

She growled. "What did you say?"

"I'm not trying to start a fight, we all have the same goal tonight," Wylla said simply, leaving Rusalka by herself, and heading over to a table. It had the most luxurious foods, she picked up a glass of sparkling water and sniffed it. It looked like normal water to her, she didn't understand the rich people's craze for sparkling water. Was it supposed to be fizzy?

Hala and Krasue were already talking to King Leviathan, Rán was hiding in the corner, Onoskelis was elsewhere, and Wylla was fully aware that Rusalka was still glaring at her.

Suddenly, Leviathan walked out of Hala's conversation with him, heading over to the table with Wylla. She downed her glass of water, set it on the table, and picked up another one. Don't screw this up, it's a competition, Wylla would have so much power if she married King Leviathan. She couldn't afford to lose.

"So you're the replacement of Paisley Ambrose," King Leviathan said, picking up a glass of wine. He sipped on it, offering another cup to Wylla. She backed away, scrunching up her nose. "You're not much of a drinker?"

"My name is Wylla Adler, and yes, I'm not much of a drinker," she murmured, grasping the glass' thin handle. She felt the stare of everyone in the gala as she licked her lips. "I travelled through the vortex instead of Paisley."

"Well, I hope you're liking Hell."

"Nadivis is too hot for my liking, Leviathan."

He arched his brows. Crap, did I mess up? Wylla thought as he set down the glass of wine. "It's King Leviathan, you know, out of respect."

"Whatevs."

King Leviathan bit down on his tongue. "You are quite the conundrum, Wylla. But I expected Paisley."

"Oh, that's rich," Wylla said, suddenly angry, rolling up her fists. This ungrateful brat— "Maybe next time, you can tell Paisley to not try to go through a vortex when she invites her friend over to a sleepover. Maybe that's a valuable lesson for you, King Leviathan."

King Leviathan was taken aback, but he grinned. It was a selfish, foolish grin that Wylla did not trust. "Let me tell you something, here's another valuable lesson—value is power, and power is value."

Win his favour. "Another lesson is you never know who is behind the mask."

The man walked away, smirking. Just another prize for him to win, Wylla knew. Suddenly, Kikimora and Nocnitsa burst through the doors and waltzed over to Wylla. Nocnitsa was grinning. "He looks thoroughly interested."

Wylla clenched her teeth. "He's an arrogant man, that's what he looks like."

"Whoa, whoa," Kikimora held up her hands. "Baby girl, what happened? Did he piss you off? Don't worry, he pisses all of us at times."

"Nadivis doesn't deserve a horrible ruler like him—"

All voices went silent as King Leviathan crossed his arms. "Nadivis, I have found my bride. Her name is Wylla Adler and she will be a delightful game, she is the future of Hell."

Wylla's cheeks went red as Jahi cried out in rage. "You haven't even met most of us! How is this outrage justified?"

Rusalka suddenly lost it. "YOU'RE A LIAR, KING LEVIATHAN! YOU PROMISED ME! Ever since I had gotten that ugly scar, you've discarded me! I WILL NOT STAND FOR THIS—"

"Gag her," King Leviathan ordered as demons in black suits walked forward. Rusalka screeched, backing away. They grabbed every inch of her body as she shrieked. King Leviathan remained calm and even laughed. "Show her scar."

No one moved forward to help her as Rusalka screamed. "Not my scar—"

One of the suited men brushed her hair out of the way to reveal a fleshy scar that dragged down her left eye. Rusalka screamed again, but it was full of pain, and she crumbled to the floor, sobbing.

"Ladies and gentlemen, watch Rusalka, the weak woman who would have never been a good fit for Nadivis," King Leviathan said, amused. Rusalka was dragged out of the ballroom as Wylla's stomach was twisted in knots. "The girl whose beauty was all ruined by an ugly scar."

She's not ugly, Wylla thought. She didn't like Rusalka, but even Wylla's heart of malice admitted that she deserved better. As demons went to congratulate the King of Hell, Wylla stared at the other selections.

Hala was crushed, bawling her eyes out, clutching her waist. Jahi was so angry, if looks could kill, all of the guests would be dead. Krasue was tough, she wasn't showing any emotion, but Wylla knew it as a facade—Krasue was crumbling on the inside. Onoskelis was trying to distract herself by talking to other guests.

And Rán—she was walking towards Wylla. "I guess you win, new girl," she said coldly. Wylla couldn't blame her, Rán was born for the role only to lose to some girl who wasn't even supposed to be here.

"The real nightmare has only started, King Leviathan is a cruel man. We all have malice, we all were struggling and hoping for this gala to change our lives, and Leviathan let us struggle willingly." Rán avoided Wylla's gaze. "This isn't some Cinderella fairytale, it's a world of survival of the fittest. Congrats, Wylla Adler, best wishes to you." Rán left, exiting the ballroom.

"She's trying to scare you," Nocnitsa insisted. "Don't pay attention to her."

But what Rán said, made Wylla think deeply—what made the selections less deserving to be Queen of Nadivis? They were more fit and able to rule, Wylla didn't know squat. Her name is Wylla Adler and she will be a delightful game, Leviathan had said.

Was Wylla just a game to him?

King Leviathan was slowly extracting himself from conversations and heading over to Wylla. Dozens of thoughts raced through her mind, but one stood out. This isn't some Cinderella fairytale, it's a world of survival of the fittest.

"Kikimora," Wylla said, grabbing Kikimora's wrist. "I need to ask a favour."

"Which is?"

"I'm not a goody-two-shoes, I need and want power. I need justice for the others, this 'selection' isn't justified," Wylla said as King Leviathan neared. It's life or death. She whispered something in Kikimora's ear, and the demon lady was taken aback but agreed to it.

Wylla Adler will be the future of Hell.

They had retired from the gala to King Leviathan's bedroom. Wylla was usually calm and when Leviathan opened the doors, she only flinched a bit. It was lit by salt candles and Wylla walked over to a table where two glass cups and a bottle of wine were laid. "This bottle looks expensive."

"You're my queen now, the bottle is all yours," King Leviathan grunted, shrugging off his blazer. He sat in the seat opposed to Wylla's, trying to untangle his tie. Wylla snorted, thinking to herself—What a manchild.

"Now, that we're engaged," Wylla said casually. "Can I finally call you Leviathan?"

"Whatever you please," Leviathan dismissed her, the tie becoming loose and falling to the floor. He kicked it away and Wylla sucked in a shaky breath, pouring him a full glass. "You're not drinking yourself?"

"Not a drinker, remember?"

"Ah, yes, you prefer water."

Leviathan picked up the glass, swirling it around the glass. Is that a rich-people thing to do? Wylla wasn't sure. "Well, cheers to a new marriage and delight to enjoy," he mumbled, sipping it before downing it.

Suddenly, Leviathan coughed, dropping his glass. The last droplets stained the floor as the king dropped to the ground, clawing his neck. He gasped for air, his eyes bulging out. "W-Wylla, get help—I can't breathe—-"

She stood up, amused. "I warned you, Leviathan, didn't I teach you a valuable lesson? You never know who is behind the mask. It could be malice of all things," Wylla circled around the dying man. "You know, I didn't know if demons, the Devil, of all people could die. But Kikimora was my wing-woman, bringing me that poisoned bottle of wine as I requested. Kudos to her, of course."

"You be-betrayed me!" Leviathan let out a rasp, looking as if he was going to burst into a rupture. "Deceiver! I-I could have made you Queen of Hell—"

"Oh, but I will be Queen of Nadivis now, they won't question my rule if I killed you obviously," Wylla said in a matter-of-fact-ly voice. Leviathan was gasping, trying to crawl to the door, but his body went still. "Oh, look! You're dead!"

Wylla tossed her hair over her shoulder and kicked Leviathan's corpse for good measure. She went to the corner to undress and found some comfortable PJs that would do well in the meantime.

She climbed onto Leviathan's bed, pulling the comforter to her chin. She flung it off, exhausted by the heat of Hell. Why, it would be a shame if someone stumbled upon their bedroom and found his dead body. Oh well, they'd have to wait until morning.

Wylla Adler slept comfortably that night, knowing perfectly well that the next morning, she would wake up as Hell's new demonic queen. There was always going to be malice in everyone's hearts, it's whether they do something with it or not that counts.