"Vaggie. It's happening again. It's happening again. What do we do? What in the name of Satan are we supposed to do?"

"Just let it happen. I'm sure there won't be that many deaths."

Charlie slams her fist down on the table. We have been called to a 'special workers' meeting with all four of us; Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust and I. Charlie is freaking out right now about something called an extermination. Sitting in my chair, listening to the discussion around me, I have literally no idea what is happening. Well, other than the fact that Charlie is loosing her mind.

"I can't just let it happen! My purpose as the leader of this hotel is to stop the exterminations and make sure my people transfer to Heaven safely rather than being KILLED by the exterminators! My people did nothing to deserve this and I will not sit idly by while they just... just... DIE!" Charlie shouts, pacing the room. She is making wild gestures with her arms, and there is a crazy look layered in her kind eyes that I've never seen before.

"Charlie, you need to calm your titties and sit the fuck down. There is literally nothing we can do. I mean, what, do you want to stomp your way out there and stop the exterminators yourself? You're a toothpick, you'll get your ass killed in two seconds," Angel argues.

Charlie sighs loudly. "This is terrible!" she says, flopping down into a chair and raking her fingers through her platinum hair. Angel and Vaggie exchange a knowing glance, which is also something new.

After some silent minutes, I clear my throat and say quietly, "I don't know what's happening."

Charlie jumps up so fast that her chair flies backwards and thumps to the floor. She glares at me, her face sad and vicious at the same time. "What's happening? My people are dying! Hell is clearly overpopulated, so there have been annual exterminations to lower the population. Innocent people are killed for no reason. My business at this hotel is to make sure that people are working to become better so that they can check into heaven and continue to live a good life. That way, there don't have to be any exterminations," Charlie explains. With every word, her expression becomes more and more pained, like the words are knives coming out of her throat. "I was stupid to think that they wouldn't hold the extermination this year. They don't believe I can do it - and only three people have checked out this year. We're moving too slow." She shakes her head and snivels. I can see the tears welling in her eyes.

"It's okay, Charlie," Vaggie says hurriedly, rushing over to scoop her blonde friend into a hug. "It will be better next year. Trust me."

Angel groans from his chair. "Here come the water works." My eyes meet his for a second, and I watch him as he frowns and kicks his legs up on the table. "Aren't you supposed to be a counselor, Barbie? It's your job to help people now."

My jaw drops. Why did he have to put me on the spot like that? I didn't even know for sure if I got the job. Charlie and I haven't talked since the interview. Until right now.

"She is a counselor now, but it's not her fault. It's all of ours," Charlie says. There is a steady stream of tears coming down her ashen face now. "She knew nothing about this. Don't blame her, Angel."

"She's right," Vaggie adds. "But you can't blame yourself, either, Charlie. It's not our faults necessarily, it's on the people of Hell to decide that they want to better themselves to lower the population peacefully."

Charlie nods. She remains quiet for a moment.

"I'm sorry. I'll start tomorrow if you would like," I say, speaking for the second time in this whole meeting.

Charlie says nothing.

ᯬ

"Take this," Vaggie says, tossing the pistol over to me. My heart skips a beat as I reach to catch it. It's long and sleek, painted a matte black color. "It's a Glock 19. Very popular."

I examine the Glock in my hand, adjusting my grip on it, trying to make myself comfortable with the gun. Once I get a nice hold on it, I extend my arm and hold it in front of my face, closing one eye and pretending to aim at something. "So, I need this gun... why exactly?" I ask, lowering the weapon.

"For protection," Vaggie says, picking up a small retractable knife from the table before us, which is covered in guns and melee weapons of all sorts. "The citizens here are all balls-up lunatics. Not a single demon or ghost down here is in their damn right mind. Neither are the exterminators, for obvious reasons. Here, take this too." She holds the knife, handle out, for me to take. I grab it and give the shiny blade a once over, then draw in the pointy part and bend down to stick the small weapon in my shoe. Vaggie sees me stuffing my heel with the knife and grabs my shoulder to stop me.

"That's not what you're supposed to do," she says.

I take the knife out and stand upright to give Vaggie a look. "What do you mean?"

She sighs, rolls her eyes. God, she has so much sass. Not that I have anything against sass. It's not so bad to where it gets on my nerves. If I didn't like her the way I do, I would probably hate her, what with the way she always ignores people, then bosses them around. And she scoffs at everyone, like they aren't important. At the meeting this morning, I took full notice to the fact that she gives Charlie and I special treatment, but absolutely hates Angel Dust and people like him who find cruel humor in everything.

"You have to summon your weapons. Do you know what that means?"

Now it's my turn to roll my eyes. "Of course I know what summoning means. Do I look three to you?"

Instead of saying 'You act like you're three,' like she usually would, she lets her hair fall further down her face and raises her one visible eyebrow to the sky. "I'll teach you how to summon your shit. Nobody knows how to when they first get here. It's a really weird process." She snatches the Glock from me and tosses it between her hands. "Now look at this gun and get to know it really well. See the shape of it, the color, the length, and the bullet size. Then try really hard to think about that weapon appearing in your hand."

I frown.

I literally don't even know what's happening.

After the emergency meeting, in which Charlie yelled at nobody in particular about the extermination that is currently happening, Vaggie, Angel Dust and I ran to the basement of the hotel to hide out. Vaggie said it was one of the safest spots in the whole city. She wanted Charlie to come with us too, but Charlie insisted that she stay outside to warn her citizens about the extermination. Of course, most of them already knew. (Especially those who were first to die. Credits to them.) But, being the "princess of Hell" and all of that royalty shit that she is made her feel obliged to help the common folk. I guess I can't blame her. I probably would freak the fuck out too, if I had the responsibility of thousands of lives under my very small hands.

"Trust me, Barbie doll. It's super breezy once you get the hang of it. Like sucking a dick. At first, it's awkward and you're choking on it and all, but once you really get in the swing of it, your throat opens more and -"

"Holy fucking shit Angel, will you shut your pithy mouth? You are such a slimy prick sometimes," Vaggie snarls.

"Relax, whore house. I was only trying to help," Angel says. He then flicks his wrist in a small circle and a large machine gun instantly materializes in two of his claws. "Ta-da," he hisses, allowing his face to become simultaneously menacing and flirty. I wince as I watch him twirl the large weaponry in his multiple arms. Angel has never struck me as careful, and I don't think some cocky spider-demon like him should be twirling a machine gun around in a one-room basement.

"Wow," I say quietly. "That's very impressive."

Just then, as Angel is relaxing his arms and getting ready to poof his gun away, there is a knock on the large black door at the top of the basement stairs. My heart nearly jumps out of my chest at the sudden sound, and when the gold doorknob starts wiggling in its slot, I literally squeal with fear. Vaggie looks at me, her eye wide, then back at the door. None of us dare to speak.

"Hey, are you guys in here? We need to get in! Please open up, we need help?" a chipper voice says from behind the wood. Luckily, it's a voice I recognize. Happy and cheerful overtones, deep and frightening undertones. Her voice is like a yellow-painted wall covering a museum of secrets. Niffty.

Vaggie looks confused. "Is that Niffty?" she asks. I nod, turning to walk up the stairs. When I get to the top, I take a deep breath, take the knob in my hand, and open the door.

Just like I thought, Niffty is standing there. Her face is not glowing with joy like usual. There are more demons behind her. A blue-skinned man with thin wire glasses, a mess of blue hair, and an old-fashioned button up suit. Mimzy, clicking her long, purple nails together, clearly in a nervous tizzy. Alastor is nowhere to be found. Husk is there too, holding a silencer in one hand, a bottle of Absolut vodka in the other, his wings folded around him like a protective barrier. Even further behind him, a couple of other creatures that I don't have time to properly look at.

I notice that Charlie is not in this group.

"Hi, Danielle. We need to come in," Niffty says, her words thick with fear.

"Okay," I breathe with a mixture of disbelief and trepidation. "Okay. Alright. Come in." I step aside to let each demon walk past me. I make eye contact with Husk. He gives me a sad nod.

I close the door behind them, but I don't walk down the stairs. I can feel tears forming behind my eyes. Sitting down on the top step, I try to blink them away, but they don't leave when I tell them to. Instead, they fall forward and run down my face.

When did I turn into such a crybaby? This is my second time tearing up today.

I don't even know why I'm crying. Sure, people are dying, but they are people that I don't even know. All of this horror and panic... I think it's getting to me. I don't want it to, I can't let it come for me and take my sanity, but what I'm just now realizing is that it's too late. My sanity left me the moment my car tipped down over that teetering edge, down into that dark abyss of death.

"Danielle?" Vaggie calls my name from the bottom of the stairs. She looks up at me and I can see the pity in her face right away. I am a mess. A teenage girl, sitting on a staircase in a stretchy red dress and fishnet leggings, eyes bloodshot and raw, tears running in rivers along her face. That fucked-up girl is me. That is how I must look to Vaggie.

"What?" Angel exclaims from the other side of the room, catching everyone's attention. Mimzy and him are standing in a corner, talking discreetly.

"What the fuck are you screaming about, Angel?" Vaggie snaps, turning away from me to glare at her frenemy. (I think that's what you would consider Vaggie and Angel. Frenemies.)

"I'm screaming about Charlie, you little slutty bitch! Your girlfriend is outside! She's trying to save the people herself!" he shouts. Although he isn't quite happy, he doesn't seem angry either. He seems thrilled, in a way. "Why did you let her go? Of course she wasn't going to make an announcement. She tricked your gullible ass into letting her go."

Vaggie's face melts then. Right when Angel says the word 'outside'. It transforms in an oozing mess from angry, to confused, to outright terrified.

"Wh-wh-what? I-I... it... I don't," she stammers, shaking her head slowly. She is still holding my gun.

"FOR SATAN'S SAKE YOU STAMMERING BITCH! Let's go have some fucking fun and save that hot little girl's ass!"

Vaggie stares at him with utter bewilderment. "Fuck you," she spits before stomping up the stairs. She tosses me my gun, opens the basement door, and dashes outside.

I wipe my tears away and stand up in a flash. I can't let Vaggie go, she'll get hurt. She'll be... exterminated. As a pulse of fear flushes through my veins, Angel runs past me and into the foyer. "You coming, Barbie?" he asks, slowing to a stop. He turns around and stares at me, filled with energy. How is he so excited?

Maybe psychopaths really do exist.

Not that I didn't believe that. I just didn't accept it.

Looking down at the gun in my hand, I center myself into reality. I have a decision to make. Run after Angel and Vaggie to go (try to) save Charlie, and probably get harmed along the way, or decline the invite and hide away in a basement full of shaking, sobbing demons.

I look down the stairs. Mimzy is sitting in that corner, where she and Angel once stood to talk about Charlie. She is seated, her back against the wall. Her eyes are bulging and red. She looks upset. Niffty is walking around in restless circles.

Then I see Husk. I watch as he downs a sip of vodka, straight from the bottle, then lays his drunken head down into his raised knees with despair. I could go down there and comfort him. Hug him, sit with him, drink some of his vodka.

Man, I really want some vodka.

Then I look back at Angel, who has a pair of arms crossed, the others loaded with weapons. He is tapping his foot on the ground impatiently, waiting for me to decide. Wait and be sad, or run and go inaugurate violence.

"So baby? What's it gonna be?"

Fuck this. Fuck Hell. Fuck me.

"You know what? Fuck it. I'm coming," I say, running after him. I click my Glock into place. I don't have much ammo. Only a few bullets. Earlier, when Vaggie was showing me all of the weapons, she gave me a bracelet made of ammo and told me to wear it.

As I run through the doors and outside into the great, chaotic city, I look at that bracelet and tell myself that I'm doing this for Vaggie. And for Charlie. But, in reality, I'm doing it because I don't care anymore. My sanity has been drained. I have died, so what's the point? If I die twice, then I guess I'll be a fucking legend.

Angel looks at me. He looks delighted. I grin at him, and he grins back. He holds a chain, connected to a massive pokey ball in one of his hands and swings it in a circle.

"Let's fucking do this," he says.

Then I turn away from him to face the city.

Dead bodies. Gore. Forgotten weapons, lying about covered in sickly red blood. Fires, blossoming into beautiful smoking formations. Demons running about, frantically trying to find safety. Others ensuing fights.

Then I remember my knife. I must have dropped it somewhere back in the basement. Who cares? I don't need it. I have a Glock and a few rounds of ammo. I kick my high heels off and flick my hair out of my face.

Fuck it.