Infernal resurrection

Chaptet 1: The Return

The cold, flickering lights of Hell's infamous Pentagram City buzzed with usual chaos. Demons roamed the streets, caught up in their typical, twisted revelry. For twenty years, Hell had been without the chilling presence of April-she who had once carved terror into even the hearts of the Overlords. But tonight, something shifted in the atmosphere. An unfamiliar silence crept into the room as shadows twisted at the doorway.

The worn double doors of the Red Velvet Lounge creaked open, and a lone figure stepped inside. Her silhouette was lean, sharp, and draped in black-a figure cloaked in a confidence that would have rattled even the bravest. April's piercing gaze scanned the room, her eyes locking onto the startled faces staring back.

A hush fell, like the eye of a storm hanging just overhead. Some demons whispered, confused; they didn't recognize her. But for others, recognition bloomed quickly, followed by shock and fear. They hadn't seen her in two decades; her exile was supposed to have been permanent. Her silence was as sharp as her stare, and a cold smile curled on her lips, as if daring anyone to speak.

Then, a voice broke the silence, icy and edged with anger.

"April?! What are you doing here! We thought you died." Carmilla's face twisted with a mixture of disbelief and fury. Her crimson eyes narrowed as she stepped forward, heels clicking with purposeful strides.

"Death?" April's voice was soft, mocking. "Death and I made a deal a long time ago, Carmilla." She tilted her head, her gaze predatory. "Besides, Hell wasn't ready for me to be gone forever."

The Overlords who remembered her presence-Alastor, Rosie, Vox, Velvette, Valentino, Zestiel-looked at each other, uncertain. Alastor's usually playful smile faded, replaced by a cautious curiosity. Valentino's jaw clenched, his cigar nearly snapping between his teeth. Even the twisted smirk that often adorned Vox's face vanished, leaving him visibly unsettled.

"Twenty years..." Alastor's voice cut through the tension. His tone was light, but his eyes were anything but. "My dear April, you've been gone far too long. Tell me, what brings you back to Hell's... warm embrace?"

April met his gaze without flinching, her smile unwavering. "Alastor," she greeted, almost fondly. "I'm here to reclaim what's mine." Her words were like a thunderclap, echoing through the room.

"What's yours?" Rosie scoffed, folding her arms with a roll of her eyes. "You were banned for a reason, sweetheart. I don't think anyone's keen on handing you back anything."

April's gaze flicked to Rosie, her smile darkening. "And here I thought Hell could use a little shake-up. Things seem so... dull these days." She took a step forward, causing a ripple of tension in the room. Her presence was an echo of the ruthless reputation she'd left behind, her very steps laced with silent promises of vengeance, and she reveled in the shock that her mere presence still commanded.

For those who had forgotten her legacy, they'd soon learn. And for those who remembered... Well, Hell would feel her wrath again soon enough.