It was supposed to be a simple hook up. Nothing more then sex, something I've done many times since I had first discovered what hook ups were. He looked so normal. As plain a person could be while still catching my attention and the attention of a few other girls at the bar. I knew he would approach me the second I saw him, I could see what the rest of the night held in store for him the second I laid eyes on him. That's the thing though, I could only see the rest of the night. Nothing else came up no matter how long I stared at him. It was like a recording that ended two seconds too soon and it intrigued me so of course I had to go home with him. Which brings me to this morning. Walk of shames have always been my favorite part of a hook up, the after where everyone knows what you had done, they could see it in the messy bed head, the crumpled clothes that you had put on in a haste. It all caught peoples attention and while I'm sure other girls might feel shame, I fed on it. I feed on the negative emotions and a disapproving looks, it comes with the territory of being the devils second hand man. Or should I say woman?
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I am death
General FictionHow does death work? What if afterwords its less interesting than it seems in the movies? And most importantly what if Satan isn't the same person forever and it's time for a new girl to take her place as ruler of hell? This book is a work in progre...
