The Fallen Angel: A Reinterpretation of the Afterlife

Chapter 1: A Deal With the Angel

The familiar pain in her back struck again, the agony blazing across her skin like wildfire through a bone-dry forest. Images of snow-white wings and blood-red eyes flashed through her mind, leaving her gasping for breath on her filthy sleeping mat.

Seraphina lay in silence on the hostel floor, the crowded rooms occupied to the brim with demons. She was no one in this world of sinners, trapped in this unending dimension like everyone else around her.

In Hell, no one had any sense of privacy or ownership. All demons owned were the mats they rested on in between their ventures into the human world for the precious souls that granted a few more years of afterlife until the inevitable fate of Oblivion, the dimension where the forgotten would go, caught up with them eventually. Only the Devil himself seemed to stay a few steps ahead of it.

"Morning pains again?" Lux, the demon that had slept next to her since the day Seraphina had died ten months ago, asked. There were no mornings in Hell. Perhaps giving the endless flow of time a name that dictated its start and finish was a form of comfort for the sinners of the underworld, one of the few things they could control. Seraphina could never understand why the other demons would use terms like "dinner" or "breakfast." No such thing could ever exist here.

"Yeah, but don't worry about it. I have had them for as long as I have been here so I'm used to it," she responded lightly, daring not to reveal to anyone the peculiar visions that came with the excruciating backaches. In Hell, it was best not to attract any attention to yourself, to stay as under the radar as possible. Being noticed for the wrong reasons was what would get you killed.

Seraphina ran her fingers through her shining black locks, a noticeable contrast to the matted, mousy brown hair that all the other demons had. It was her one pride in this hell hole, even if she had retained all other qualities of a demon: the coarse skin, claws, and croaking voice. It was the one quality that sometimes made her feel as though she was the odd one out, like she didn't belong here. Then again, many people didn't belong in Hell.

"We are heading to the portals soon. Hopefully, we'll snag a few souls today. The number of humans is dwindling by the second." The demon that went by Cora hoisted her up.

"Maybe I can check on my great-grandchildren today. See how they are doing," Lux murmured distantly. She was one of the few demons who could remember what had happened during her human life. No one knew how or why. She just did.

Seraphina shivered, the wrinkles on her skin becoming more and more apparent by the day. If she was not fed soon, her body would disintegrate into nothingness. She stole a couple of glances at the skin Cora hid beneath her rags, leathery and corpse-like. She would fade soon. Seraphina looked away, feeling no remorse or sadness. One less core to sustain. In these dark times, with such limited resources to go around, one less demon would do everyone good.

Seraphina sprinted toward the glowing orb of light, the old man's raw soul already slipping off the hospital bed, his body finally giving in to whatever disease was currently plaguing the humans. He would later be reborn as a demon, but for now, his dying soul could save her. This one is mine. This would be her first catch in months and it could mean the difference between Hell or Oblivion.

She extended her net, a flimsy yet effective tool for trapping the cores of the dying. This in-between dimension of life and death was where demons like her spent most of their time, desperately trying to catch souls. It was called Sigma, a name some random demons apparently decided on centuries ago and it had just caught on.

A foot stopped her net, Seraphina almost toppling over from the force. She pivoted her gaze to find Cora intercepting her rightful catch. Seraphina didn't even let herself be surprised. This was a common occurrence in Hell, betrayals following each other regularly.