Or... 'there's no sun in hell.' I couldn't pick lol.

Italics- thoughts/ flashbacks/ dreams

Bold- author talking

Underline- narrator talking, known as the main character

Normal- normal story

3654 words

ꨄ❦ꨄ❦ꨄ➪

It's now 1am on Monday morning.

I can't sleep. I'm so scared yet excited to see what happens tomorrow.

So I write my story with sudden motivation. And listen to country music on Spotify with earbuds, loud enough so I can't hear Gracie snoring in the front room.

I don't know what to expect. I'm scared because I don't know what to expect. I'm scared because I don't want to get set on fire in hell. I'm so scared because my life is changing. I'm scared because I won't live 7 doors down from my soulmate anymore. I'm scared for the unseen future that takes up the lane of my life and I have to meet it tomorrow.

I'm excited for the surprise.

That's all.

There's been no surprise visits after church. Life has been falsely normal today. Well yesterday since it's 1 am right now.

I don't like it. And I don't like that I don't like it.

I don't know if I should try to make time go by faster or slower. Hell is the last place I want to be.

Hell is the place I vowed to myself to do everything in my weak power to not go there.

But none of this is in my power, it never was and never will be. It was never meant to be. I'm just a puppet in this unusual game. Made to see what happens like a pet getting adopted.

That's what it is. I wasn't adopted though, more like bought without the money. I was spared to live a good life, which I did, to get taken back.

He said getting claimed is a beautiful process and the only reason he won't knock me out is because he wants me to see it.

I don't know his definition of beautiful. He calls Butterflies beautiful, if that was all then I would agree but then he talked about killing them with no effort.

Will I die after?

Will I become a fucking butterfly and trapped in the net things? If that was the case then I wouldn't mind being crushed.

I want to ask about it but I wouldn't know where to begin or end. Stupid me would probably ask something that'll get me killed.

After writing the flashback to the main character's traumatic past and sorting out more of the pictures that won't go away I decide to try and sleep.

I lay like a starfish on the bed with my leg hanging off because me and the demon under my bed are chill like that.

I'm bent at an awkward angle, half way on my side and stomach. Eventually sleep starts squeezing my waist before taking over.

ꨄ❦ꨄ❦ꨄ➪ (does anyone else's waist hurt a lot if y'all lay down in one position too long?)

The morning nags at me. I sit up and check the time on the awkward fitting watch.

5:30. Oh my goodness, a whole 4 hours of sleep. Thank you sleep gods for being so generous to me.

I fall back on the bed because I don't care. I'll sleep my problems away.

Oh wait, Athena said she'll pick me up. Dammit I can't let her 3 hour drive go to waste.

I get up and start getting ready. Good thing I didn't bring anything.

I walk in my parents room and say bye to dad. I say bye to Aaleyah in her room. I then say bye to mom who is in the front room and the dogs. I say bye to Yaya too.

I then walk outside and say bye to the neighbors apartments that surround the parking lot.

10 minutes of cold waiting later and Athena's car pulls in front of me.

I get in the car and we start talking about what happened over the weekend and if everyone is alright, this and that.

My mouth talks while my mind focuses on the pain in my stomach that makes me want to bend over and hit my head on the dashboard. But I don't.

.

..

...

"I'm not going today either," I tell her while unlocking the apartment door.

"Alright, just don't make this a bad habit or you'll fail and let me know if you need anything." I nod and appreciate her concern and watch her walk down the hallway before walking in.

I look around the empty apartment before walking over to my goldfish. Athena said she has been feeding them. And now once again I have to clean the tank.

So after 2 hours from lack of energy, the water is clean with good levels of everything that keeps the fish alive.

I should clean. So I clean to distract myself. I also plug in my phone and computer.

I cleaned the bathroom, bedroom, front room and kitchen. I then start cleaning my jewelry. Mainly my earrings.

And now I have nothing left and it's 11:11, my favorite time besides 1:23 or 3:21 and 7:11.

The sun proudly shines through the windows through the pastel ombre curtains. Everything looks so pretty lit up, clean and open.

I walk into the bedroom and unplug my phone and put on pants that actually have pockets. I also grab poor Pikachu.

"I'm sorry for abandoning you." I tell him and pet his soft squishy body.

I walk out and the first thing I see is the big ass man standing in front of my TV covered in black holding that giant scythe.

Oh fuck. "Fuc, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," I say to myself before walk over next to the couch.

"You want to fuck?" He says enlightened.

"No."

"Lame." He falls on the couch, putting a lot of trust in it. I'm surprised my cheap couch hasn't given out on him yet.

"So what uh, um, uhhhh do-"

"Sit down."

I sat down. "I'm scared."

I see that very faint evil smile with sharp teeth. "Don't be."

If only it was that easy but now I'm more scared. Fuckin petrified.

I don't know a more 'im scared' word.

"So after 18 years, 7 months, and 7 days later, the time has come."

"You really have been waiting."

"Yes. Are you ready?"

"No."

"Too bad."

He wraps an arm around me and drags me on his lap and my shirt, pants, socks and shoes disappear. I get flashbacks to the first time he sexualy harassed me and I start panicking.

He lifts my arms before leaning me forward for a second.

"Damn you heal fast."

He then pulls me against him and gently holds my right hand with his underneath like he could crush it easily on accident.

After a few moments of complete silence I decide to get this unknown thing over with. Before I could say words I didn't think of, a paralyzing calmness stops me from moving. The calmness would be nice but I can't move from the waist down so I just panicked more.

He then starts talking in Latin which makes me freak out even more.

Holy hell I'm gonna get possessed.

I try to get away but I can't. After a few moments of his demon talk slowly getting louder the very scarce space between my and his hand starts to faintly glow white.

Oh now I'm not panicked anymore and intrigued. It slowly gets brighter with 2 other things happening at the same time.

The white eats away the black mass covering his hand and little black lines start growing on my fingers and going up my arm. I gasp.

Little black lines make the shapes of cracks, like a broken vase that was glued together. The lines are thin.

I also see the black recede into the white to reveal warm skin. I just stare wide eyed at his hand.

After 3 fucking weeks! 3 weeks and I finally see something of him! Oh my gawd! I wanna scream but something won't let me.

I then watch the black lines go across my body, across my chest to my other arm and down my stomach and legs to my toes.

This would be so cool if it was gold lines instead so it looks like someone put me together using whatever it's called.

But this is so... unique?

I look back at his hand which also has the same black lines but with ridges and thicker. Each little line looks jagged while mine have little bends.

After what feels like the longest fucking time the white light starts fading away. So does that paralyzing false calmness.

After a few moments he stops talking, lets go of my hand and his falls besides his leg.

I hold my arms in front of me and rotate them to see all the lines. "The scar is now black," I squeak in amazement. The faded pink scar is now pure black and looks so different from the little black ones.

I straighten my legs to see all the little crack shaped lines. I bend my leg to look at the underside. I also bend it almost all the way to see the bottom of my foot.

I'm shocked, shooketh, all of it.

I look at my chest and down my bra to see more lines and on my stomach. I turn to the side and see them on my back.

I then get the biggest wave of sadness, guilt, despair and pain I ever felt and tears immediately come to my eyes.

I look up and...

Oh my God. Holy fuckin god blesin hell moly.

I see the most beautiful face with the most beautiful blue eyes looking at me. Like princess Diana plus Emma Watson and Angelina Jolie type of beautiful.

If this were an old American highschool movie I'd be the girl that would faint.

He has perfect blue eyes, not the type that are creepy or the ones barely noticeable like mine but perfect. He has the perfect nose and nice juicy lips, like juicy juicy. He has those nice cheeks and a nice jawline.

And black wavy hair that's to die for. Absolutely perfect in every sense. It's the Quiff style, sort of grown out but still in shape.

I have to put a hand over my mouth from sequeling an inhumane squeal.

He is too good looking to even look human. He looks better than the Chad meme.

Oh fuck I've been staring. I quickly look down to the palms of my hands that have more lines.

He also has jagged looking lines on his face but very faint and thin.

I look at his hand running out of things to make myself not look like a creep. He has nails like mine but black not red and very pointy.

"I prefer coffin shaped nails but I guess razor sharp work too." I say trying to break the one sided awkward silence.

He brings a hand up and pokes my nose with a claw while I feel the claws on his other hand lightly go up and down my back.

I look at him and he's positioned lazily but has a predatory or psychopathic smile showing razor sharp teeth.

"So is razor sharp a theme for you...?"

He straightens out some, "go look in the mirror."

I look at him for another uncertain second before getting up and walking to the bathroom.

I stand in front of the mirror above the sink and see black crack shaped lines across my face just like the rest.

And I have no more ache. My skin is clear. It all just disappeared, no scarring or anything. I can see my freckles.

I walk back over, "how is my skin clear?"

He shrugs. "So what do you think?"

"I don't know what to think." I look at him, "what do I think?"

"You think this is great and you will happily let me eat you out."

I frown, "no."

His hot face says 'why do I keep getting rejected?' Oh how I love this so much.

He stands up and walks in front of me with both hands on the scythe in front of him, "get on your knees."

I look at him confused but he just waits so I kneel. This puts such a strain on my knees.

He then lowers the scythe till the very edge is resting on my forehead. It's cold and feels old.

He then starts talking more Latin while staring me in the eyes with some kind of evil behind his.

I start feeling hatred and anger and more pain of betrayal and hurt. I'm feeling all this like I actually have a reason to. And it feels self-inflicted.

He takes the scythe off of me and it disappears. "Pack the belongings you want to bring."

I stand up and look around to see if there's anything good. After 3 years I realized how plain everything looks.

My clothes appear on me again and I walk to my bedroom and start putting all my art stuff in a pile. I put everything on my bed. Like everything.

I then walk back out, "my bed and everything on it."

He walks next to me to see my whole bedroom on my bed.

"And how are you going to move all this?"

I look at the bed decorated with all my stuff. "Oh, uhhh movers? Or if you have a car I can load it up or we can get a truck from my grandma's job like the times when my family moved." I look at him, "how far away is hell?"

"You can't drive to hell."

"Skydive?"

"With a bed?"

I imagine years worth of stuff breaking, "no. Then how?"

He grabs my wrist, walks over to my bed and puts a hand on it. Suddenly the very faint black mist shows up and the scene changes to a big bare room as big as my whole apartment.

It's dark here though. He lets go of me and walks away. I can't even see him but I see my bed. Something clicks and the lights turn on.

"Oh my-"

"Don't mention him here or anything alike or Lucifer will take you."

Ok then. "Wait, my fish!"

He looks annoyed but walks over, puts a hand on my shoulder and we appear back at my apartment.

I look at my fat fishies and the black metal stand holding the tank.

"That one's cake," I pointed at the white one. "The orange one is frosting and the calico one is sprinkles." I put all the stuff together in the basket and put it on the single shelf the stand has. I tap the glass and they swim over.

I pet their little fat selves. Well they're quite big.

"You would rather pet fish than a little furry spider?"

I look at him, "they're my pets and that spider wasn't little."

"Wait till you see the spiders in hell."

Now I'm worried, "what do you mean by that?"

"You'll see."

"So you see, I'm not going to see hell spiders that are probably ginormous."

I try to walk away but he grabs my arm with no effort and puts one hand on the fish tank before we appear back at the giant room.

I look at thy fishies and they look completely fine, the water didn't even move. Wow.

"So this is your room and you can do whatever you want in this house but follow these 3 rules."

I turn around and look at him. He looks so serious that it's unnerving.

There's a threatening undertone in his words, "1, Don't go past the fence outside alone or you will die. 2, Don't break anything or you will be cursed. 3, Don't go into the attic and basement or you will probably get lost."

I ridiculously nod. He walks out the room.

I look around not knowing what to do. Do I explore, unpack or see if my phone works or the computer in my pants pocket. I had gotten sports pants with pockets big enough to hold a gallon of water for Christmas.

Then I start thinking of what'll happen to my apartment and how am I going to be in hell and not do normal things. I don't understand any of it. But this is just more of the unknown path I'm on with no control over.

First I'll look out the giant windows on the right wall. They're taller than me, everything here is tall. I'm probably the shortest thing here besides my fish.

I look out the giant curtainless windows. There are 3 in the middle. All I see is a huge dark wall in the distance and a night sky full of stars.

It must be night, is hell on the other side of the world and that's why a car wouldn't work?

If he can transport that fast across the world, can he go to Mars? Elon would love that.

The tall walls in the distance look like cave walls. Is hell a hole in the ground?

Oh and there are 2 doors in the back wall of the room on opposite sides. They're also tall and I'm scared to open them.

I'm actually scared to leave this room. I'm also scared of all the overwhelming feelings I got earlier that don't compare to anything I've ever felt before.

Everything that just happened needs time to think about and I don't have the energy for it. Well I usually don't think about anything till I go to sleep or have one of those 'damn I'm actually alive right now and in a body doing things' moments.

I love windows, I want to open them. Can I open them? Will I die if I do? I look at it for a lock and see one. Oh it does open.

"Can I open the window without dieing?" I ask before remembering I'm alone.

Oh well, no open window. I'm not leaving this room.

I walk to the middle of the room where everything I own is. Oh fuck I forgot the stuff in the bathroom. My nervousness says forget it so I do.

Well, should I make the boring room look nice? If I'm going to hide here forever then I guess so. I want to go mad in fashion.

How do I take everything off my bed without getting it dirty? I can't put my clothes on the floor but I can't put them on top of everything else or it might break.

Why do I have to make the most fragile and bendable things?

I put all the little figurines and hand made toys on the desk I somehow got on the bed. And my cords.

Damn there's no TV here.

I then take all the bags of stuff and put it on the wooden floor. I then sort it all out and decide to keep my clothes on the bed.

How am I gonna wash clothes? Or do normal health things?

Am I over-thinking?

I push the bed against the left wall because there's nothing there. This is such a strangely built room. In a strange place with a strange man.

Stranger things but religion edition.

How the fuck am I going to move the fish tank? My back is hurting too much already and thinking about moving a 50+ gallon fish tank doesn't help.

I guess they're the center of the room now.

I fall on my bed and lay there like a normal person but my legs on the pile of clothes at the bottom half. I wrap my arms around Pikachu before pulling my phone out of one pocket.

I see if anything works. Google docs does, the offline games do and Ibispaint x, the side apps do but YouTube and Roblox don't. And neither does Spotify or my story app. Not even Netflix.

YouTube and Spotify are my spirit apps.

I take my computer out of my pocket to see what works on it.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing, it won't even finish loading when I log in.

Fucking dammit.

I switch back to my phone to see if I can still text. Now who do I text and what do I say so it doesn't seem weird if it actually works?

I text mom asking how Aaleyah is doing.

It works! This is good.

How the fuck does messages work but not the other things? They all need the internet.

This is too complicated for my tired brain. I look at the giant windows on the wall across from me. This would be a great time to have LED lights. Or curtains.

I could be fancy and have both.

Can I customize this room? I had dreams about what I would do if I ever got the chance. Pretty walls with soft colors and art I draw and maybe a loft. This room is tall enough.

Damn that would be sick.

But alas, I cannot get ahead of myself. Dreams are made for people that have motivation to conquer them. I don't even have motivation to leave this room.

I look around the bare room. Moving always feels weird, if this qualifies as moving that is. You leave one room with everything you own messily organized in boxes to an empty foreign room.

Every time I moved, I always looked for secret rooms and tunnels or cool looking spots. My dream house has always been some type of Victorian yet airy mansion with castle type secrets. A castle is too big to clean and take care of but so pretty.

Is this house like that? A big house with confusing hallways and an unnecessary amount of rooms?

There's a knock on the door.

My anxiety manifests like no tomorrow. It can't be death, he just appears in the creepiest ways with no warnings or permission to appear.

Then I remember what death said before.