the sweetly scented killer

welcome to hell

a/n: happy late 2022 people i do not know 😍 it's another year closer to my death, so for that, it's going to be a good year. feel free to tell me ab your 2021 or your new year's resolution. i might care but probably not<3

i've had writer's block recently for literally no reason but we're back ig so let's get into it shall we

seth

We just sit there. On a thin blanket in the gardens. Or maybe...the gardens that were. We only exchange a few words here and there.

I don't really mind the silence. It's a bit comforting to not feel pressured to say something every second. Although a bit annoying when Flora tries to talk to me. Whatever.

Maybe I did want to come with her a bit. Just to be able to tell father that I have spent time with her. Even if we didn't talk.

***

"You're in hell."

Francesca Bolemn laughs within a scoff. I'm leaning against a cabinet at the front of the room with my hands in my pockets. "Listen, kid," she starts. "Kidnapping is a serious crime. If you don't want to go to jail--"

"Trust me, Mrs. Bolemn, I don't want to be here either. But you're in hell whether you believe it or not."

She grins and shakes her head. "You kids need to stop doing drugs. That's what makes you say shit like that."

I start to transition to my true demon form. With only my red irises and my wings coming out so far. Tails are a silly myth made up by those damn humans. "Want me to show you?" my voice booms.

She jumps back in horror. I go back to a human form and sigh in exhaustion. "Listen, Frances, I--"

"Francesca," she says, still in awe.

"I don't care if you believe me or not. My only job is to take you where you're supposed to be."

"Wait," she stands, walking over to me. I raise my eyebrows. "How did I die?"

"After you planned and carried out the murder of your husband, Mrs. Bolemn, you had a heart attack and it killed you."

"Oh, my," she frowns. She looks down with an unreadable expression. I keep looking at her. "Maybe I shouldn't have killed that waste of space piece of shit." I tilt my head back and forth.

"I would've done the same thing."

"Yeah, well you're a devil."

"Demon."

"Same difference." I frown and blink once at her. "So where am I going?"

I stand up straight. "Let's find out shall we?" With a wave of my hand, I take us where we need to be.

Most humans I meet in hell are rather vile individuals. After spending hours with her, Francesca seems to be a little...different. If I had feelings and empathy, I might even feel bad about leaving her here.

Hm. Good thing I don't.

***

"How was your first day?" father asks when I walk into the main dining room. I glance up at him, then continue pouring myself a drink. The single ice cube makes a small splash when I drop it in.

I lean against the cabinet and sip my drink. I start to frown as I think. "Has anyone ever been sent to hell...by accident?" I look at him. He snakes his hands into his pockets and creases his forehead in interest.

"Well maybe once or twice. I've been in existence for a long time, son, and I've never seen it." I inhale. "Why do you ask?"

My eyes shift to the side as I feel the lines between my eyebrows deepening. It stays silent for a while, then I finish my drink, exhaling after. "No reason."