When you were alive you were the only woman on the police force. You however dated the serial killer and radio host Alastor. One day you take the blame for the murders to cover for Al. In death what happens next?
You fell asleep on the couch that night listening to Nothing could be Sweeter, by The Virginians.
Al normally would have carried you to your bedroom, but he was out doing "things".
Your dream
Y/n was in an electric chair, the police had discovered Alastor's crimes, but Y/N had covered up for him.
Your cousin the police chief spat on your face.
"I can't believe I let you gyp us like that, let you bump off that many people, you were the damn bee's knees around here, we thought it was Alastor but you were the real McCoy."
"I regret nothing", you said calmly spitting back in his face. He slapped you back.
"Strap her gams in, make sure they're tight, she's been trying to escape since we pinched her."
You wake up
"Ugg, another dream about that, my life will be the second death of me." It had been roughly a hundred years since the coppers had pinched your boyfriend, you had given up and told them it was you, you were executed in front of a crowd. They had "forgot" to wet the sponge when executing you. It was a painful death as the chair basically cooked your flesh. You still remembered your screams of pain as the crowd ruthlessly laughed. You knew you would end up in hell, it was to be expected, you were a crooked cop, you protected a serial killer and in high school you slept around a bit. You were surprised with how you looked, you were a goddamn succubus.
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I have to get some less revealing clothes. since then you had gotten tones of hoodies and leggings.
