Ash had been wandering the barren landscape of Hell for what seemed like days, but she was losing track of time. The heat of the lava rivers that streamed through the rocky plains no longer bothered her, nor did the ever-present sulfurous stench in the air. She was numb to the burn of the world around her. Her only focus now was survival—finding shelter, food, and a place to hide from the looming threat of discovery.

She knew the longer she stayed in this forsaken place, the more likely it was that someone would eventually notice her. She was an angel in a realm where angels didn’t belong. Her wings were hidden, but her aura, her very essence, was out of place. Hell had a way of sensing things, of drawing in those who didn't belong.

But still, she had hoped to remain unseen, to slip through the cracks unnoticed. She had come here for peace, to escape the weight of Heaven and the life she was supposed to lead. She never asked to be Queen, to rule, to carry the burden of responsibility. All she wanted was freedom.

The sun had long set, and the sky above was an endless blackened void, tinged only by the occasional flicker of red light from the underworld’s fiery core. Ash moved swiftly, her cloak swirling around her feet as she trod carefully through the rocky landscape, her senses on high alert. She could hear the distant echoes of demonic laughter and the sound of heavy footsteps on the cracked earth, but she kept to the shadows.

Suddenly, a cold, sharp gust of wind blew past her, carrying with it a sense of something… wrong. Ash froze, her breath catching in her throat as she felt a presence behind her. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

Without warning, a group of demons materialized from the shadows, their glowing red eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her heart race. Ash spun around, her wings hidden under her cloak, but she knew she couldn't outrun them. They were fast, stronger than she was in this form.

“Got one,” one of the demons growled, his voice deep and gravelly. His horns curled menacingly at the top of his head, and his mouth was twisted into a snarl.

Before Ash could react, they seized her, grabbing her arms with their cold, iron-like grips. She struggled, but their strength was overwhelming. She cursed herself for letting her guard down. The world around her spun as she was dragged through the desolate land, her heart pounding in her chest. The air was thick with the scent of sulfur as the demons brought her closer to the heart of Hell, the place she had been trying to avoid.

They reached a towering fortress, its black spires stretching high into the crimson sky. Ash was thrown roughly against the stone walls, her knees buckling beneath her as the demons pulled her to the large gates. It was here that she would meet the ones who ruled this realm—the King and Queen of Hell.

The gates creaked open, revealing a lavish interior that stood in stark contrast to the harsh, bleak landscape outside. The hallways were lined with dark, opulent tapestries depicting battles between demons and angels, and the floor was made of obsidian, polished to a mirror-like shine. The atmosphere was suffocating, oppressive, but Ash didn’t have the energy to care. She was too exhausted, too defeated.

She was dragged through the corridors and into the throne room, a grand, terrifying space where the King and Queen of Hell sat upon their black thrones. They were figures of undeniable power—tall, regal, with eyes that glowed like embers in the darkness.

The Queen’s long, black hair cascaded down her back like a shadow, her sharp features betraying no emotion as she watched Ash’s arrival. The King, with his imposing stature and iron crown, studied her with cold, calculating eyes.

“Well, well,” the Queen said, her voice a venomous whisper that sent a chill down Ash’s spine. “An angel, lost in our domain. You must be quite foolish, little one, to think you could hide from us.”

Ash held her head high, despite the fear gnawing at her insides. She wouldn’t show weakness—not to these beings. “I don’t belong here,” she said, her voice steady but soft.

The Queen laughed, a cruel sound that echoed through the throne room. “No, you certainly don’t. But you are here now, and that means you will serve a purpose. You will work for us.”

Ash’s heart sank. She knew what that meant—there was no escaping. She was trapped. The Queen's eyes flashed with amusement as she leaned forward, her sharp nails tapping rhythmically on the arm of her throne.

“You are going to be our maid,” the Queen announced. “You will clean, cook, and do whatever is asked of you. And if you refuse, well…” She trailed off with a wicked smile. “We have ways of making you obedient.”

Ash wanted to scream, to fight back, but she knew it was pointless. She had no power here. She was weak, tired, and alone. For the first time since her escape, she truly felt the weight of her decision to leave Heaven.

The demons who had captured her began to drag her away, but just as they reached the door, a voice interrupted them. A young man, no older than Ash, stepped forward. His appearance was different from the demons around her—tall, with dark hair and eyes that weren’t quite red, but rather a shade of deep brown. His expression was softer, less harsh.

“Wait,” he said, his voice carrying a quiet authority that made the demons hesitate. He looked at Ash, his gaze softening as he noticed the exhaustion and fear in her eyes. “She’s new. Let me show her around.”

The King and Queen exchanged a glance, but the Queen nodded curtly. “Fine,” she said, her tone laced with disdain. “But don’t take too long. We have work for her to do.”

The demons released Ash, and the young man led her away from the throne room, his steps quiet and careful. He didn’t speak at first, but Ash couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of relief in his presence. He didn’t feel like the others. He wasn’t cruel, and that small comfort meant everything to her in that moment.

As they walked through the castle’s corridors, the young man glanced at her. “I’m Asmodeus,” he said softly, introducing himself. “I know this is hard. But you’ll get used to it. The Queen and King—they rule with an iron fist, but you don’t have to be like them.”

Ash looked at him, surprised by the kindness in his voice. “Why are you helping me?” she asked, her voice still trembling from the fear of her capture.

He paused before answering, his eyes lowering for a moment. “Because I don’t believe in their way. I believe in something different. And I think you do, too.”

They stopped in front of a small room, a simple but clean space that would be Ash’s new quarters. “This will be yours,” Asmodeus said. “I know it’s not much, but I’ll help you as much as I can.”

Ash’s heart stirred with something unfamiliar—hope. She had been alone for so long, so desperate for any form of kindness, that she wasn’t sure what to make of it. Asmodeus was different from the others. He wasn’t like his parents, who ruled with fear. He didn’t see her as a tool or a possession.

For the first time since her arrival in Hell, Ash allowed herself to breathe a little easier. Maybe, just maybe, she could find a place for herself here. Not as a servant, not as a prisoner, but as something more.

And for the first time, she felt a small spark of hope deep within her—a hope that perhaps she could make a difference, even in this unforgiving place.