Multifandom One Shots

Lucifer [1]

Some think I burn hot but really it's quite the opposite.

Freya shot up with a gasp, her eyes wide and her hand automatically flew to her chest, expecting to find the wound still there. But it wasn't. She looked around her, her bright blue eyes wide in fear, having no idea where she was or how she got here. The last thing she remembered was fleeing Texas and then having a long silver blade forced through her ribcage. She remembered the pain, the agony, the blood as it poured out of her mouth and the sight of her father standing over her with satisfaction as he watched her die. She remembered it all. And she remembered how Hell felt afterwards.

But she wasn't in Hell anymore.

Swallowing nervously, Freya clumsily got to her feet and scanned her surroundings, finding that she was in an unfamiliar field. She had dirt over her fingernails and it didn't take a genius for her to figure out that she had dug herself out of her own grave. She stood there for a long moment, afraid of what was going to happen next, but ultimately decided that she couldn't stay in one spot. If she did, she might be found. She had spent years running—from her father, from her brother, from Heaven. She knew she had been damned since the start but now she had no idea what she was meant to do. She had been running for so long but she had been caught, she had died a painful and agonizing death, and she didn't know what rules applied now. Did they know she was alive again?

Rather than standing there and waiting for someone to come find her, Freya started walking, very aware of the fact that her clothes were dirty and hanging off her, as before she had died she had gone weeks without a proper meal and was practically living on the streets. Within a hour, she ended up in a town, one she lightly recognized as being the one that she had been murdered in. She had been staying at the local motel when her father finally found her, putting a knife through her chest cavity. But things were different now. The town had changed; not a lot but enough that she knew some time had passed.

Ignoring the glances thrown her way, Freya started to walk through town, knowing her unkept clothes and filthy appearance would bring unwanted attention but she didn't know what else was she meant to do. A migraine was constantly at the back of her mind, she had had it for as long as she could remember, but it felt better now than it had ever been. She didn't know what she was going to do, as she had none of the money, clothes, supplies and fake IDs that she had built up over the years. She had been running since she was eighteen years old and over the past decade she had managed to avoid capture. One mistake had led to her death.

"Freya!"

The panicked call of her name caused her to leap to the side, her blue eyes wide, but her heart began to slow when she saw a small child running down the pavement to the mother calling her. Freya looked away at the little girl that shared her name, noticing that no one picked up on her alarm and instead tried getting to another part of town that wasn't so open. That was when she noticed the newspaper in the trashcan beside her. Not caring that it made her look like a bum, she dove into the trashcan and picked up the newspaper, her jaw dropping when she saw the date. Four years. She had missed four years. She had been in Hell for four years, seven months, two weeks and three days. It felt so much longer.

She threw the newspaper back into the trashcan and started walking at a fast pace across town, not knowing where she was going but knowing she couldn't stay here. She didn't know how she was alive but she knew she couldn't stay here if she wanted to stay that way. Her mind went to the man she had been dreaming about as she licked her dry lips, wishing she had some water. She had no idea who he was or whether he was real, just knowing that when she was seventeen years old, she decided to tell her father about her lifelong dreams she had been having, notably about the man she had seen kill countless of people. Six weeks later, he was trying to kill her, claiming angels had told him to. She later saw those angels when they kept trying to take her life but in the end it was the man that gave her life that took it away. Her brother had been with him every step of the way. For ten years she had felt that pain, that loneliness and even though she had known she wouldn't end up in Heaven, she had never thought she would end up in Hell. She had never hurt a fly, never hurting another human being or taking anyone's life. She never made a deal or asked for that. Yet somehow, she ended up spending what felt like centuries trapped in endless torture.