Satan's Babe

{Morris}

Morris Watson.
I'd been keeping my eye on her. It was unavoidable that I'd have her soul soon, at least whats left of it.
She was much like her mother.
And her grandmother.
And her great grandmother.
So forth.
I've got every Watson soul down the like from the beginning. Loyal customers, I'd say.
Dumb sluts, selling their soul for a bit of happiness.
Gave me a head start.
And head.
I won't go into that matter though, not for now at least.
Each Watson gives their soul to me young, then ironically has a child.
Always.
The child comes from a soulless mother.
The child then grows and sells their soul to me young.
What a vicious fucking cycle, hasn't ended since the beginning of the Watson scumbags.
Well of course, you'd have to be a scumbag to be in hell, I suppose.

Morris was no different.
In everyone's pants, looking for love or feeling.
In all the drugs, looking for happiness.
In all the drinks, looking to forget.
In all the blood, trying to feel.
In all the smokes, trying to find peace.
Always trying to find something.
Dumb, cursed child.

Waiting for her to realize that her soul is absolutely worthless and to hand it over to me is such a boring process.

Maybe I should step up the game a bit.