Hell's Personal Assassin: Book 1

Chapter 15

Guys, thank you for reading this book, and thanks for all the positive comments, ily!!!

Hope you guys are having a great summer/winter, depending on where you're at on Earth lol

sorry for the delay in writing 

lot's a luv

-michelle xoxoxo

******

I've said it once, and I'll say it for the rest of eternity.

I hate him.

I hate him soooo much.

The fact that he is immortal and can continue to live his life– without needing to worry about death at all– frustrates me beyond compare, and the fact that I'm his slave makes me want to poison myself with my own claws. Only, that can't work since I'm already immune to the poison.

Damn it.

"What now?" I asked myself, pushing myself off the wall. "I have no idea where I am, no way of finding an escape route without seriously freaking the Hell out of the people who live in this house, and am literally topless besides a bra. What am I going to do?"

'It's your own fault. If you didn't say shit than we wouldn't have been stuck here,' a demon in my head scolded, making a growl gurgle in my throat.

"I wouldn't have said that if he hadn't insulted me," I hissed quietly, hoping no one in the house would  come into the basement.

'You upset your Master. You have to pay the price,' another demon deadpanned like he'd rather be anywhere else but here.

"But I literally did nothing. He called be brain-dead, so I called him a prick. It's not fair that he can call me names, and when I call him one back he acts like a five-year-old and starts to get all angry at me," I muttered as I sat down on the stone floor, my butt freezing as soon as it touched the floor.

'Yeah, well Master can do whatever he wants. You can't,' the same demon replied, making me glare at the wall ahead of me.

"Well, since I'm your lunch carrier I guess that means I get to decide who gets fed what, right?" I asked rhetorically, smirking. "So if that's the case, I can either make you starve to death or  have your 'friends' eat you up, since I'm sure they're pretty hungry as well."

'No! Don't!' the demon cried out, making me shrug.

"Yeah, well I can do whatever I want, since I'm in charge here. You can't. So, which should I choose? Starve to death? Or eaten alive?" I asked cynically, grinning as I imagined the pain he would be through either way. The answer was interrupted by a creek of a door, making me stiffen up and quickly look around for a place to hide– the demons dead silent the whole time. 

Seeing an almost body length mirror across the cellar, I used my newly found "super speed" to run over there and hide, hoping the mirror wasn't the reason he/she was coming down here. The footsteps on the stairs started to get closer, making me slowly suck in a breath and hold it in, hoping breathing wasn't necessarily a necessity for me anymore. 

"You try to help someone," an old-sounding man said as heavy footsteps stomped down the dangerously week sounding stairs. "Offer them help on a chore upstairs, something sensible. And what do I get?" the man said with a snort at the end. "Clean up your wine cellar, you maggot," he said in a squeaky voice, making me hold in a laugh.