cupid clearly hates me.

[ 38 ]

[ HSBVD WE'RE AT 40k READS WHAT?! are you KIDDING ME?! That makes me so happy—like actually, genuinely, literally happy. When the Hazbin pilot came out, my feed blew up (probably cus Alastor's hot) and it fr made me cry w happiness. like, do you people actually like my writing?! because if you do, that's honestly baffling. but, still—thank u all :,)

also, sorry for making (Y/N) so crazy in these past few chapters. it's necessary for plot ;)

also (part 2), there's a lot of religion talk in this chapter, so i'm sorry if that's offensive to anyone who isn't Christian! i'm only trying to make the story seem as real as possible! ]

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The angel wasn't gentle.

The grip of his fingers felt like five tiny pythons wrapped around the meat of your arm, yanking you this way and that. He led you down a grand staircase, then pulled you across multiple hallways and shoved you through rooms. You had no idea where you were going, or what was lying in waiting at the end of your path.

Were you going to be imprisoned? Killed? Or (hopefully) sent back to hell?

Probably not the latter.

You had made a mistake stabbing Dr. Preston like that. You should have just left. You should have ran—to where? Who knows?—but it would have been better than doing what you did. Hurting Dr. Preston only got you arrested.

Earlier, before you even had your memories back, you could have escaped the hospital area without attracting any attention. The hallway outside of your door was completely empty; Dr. Goldberg and Preston were away, in the middle of their conversation, and nobody else was present.

Now, you were stuck. No—not stuck, arrested.

Of course, you still had that second scalpel tucked into the waistband of your pants, but what use would that be of with your handcuffs in the way? Maybe you could convince the angel to let you go...

He tugged harder on your arm. Nope, not a chance.

It was a long walk before he finally stopped. You had been staring at your feet and the gold Converse-things that covered them when he stopped.

You looked up to find yourself in a white-walled room that looked kind of like a courthouse, only bigger and more vacant. There was a long desk at the opposite wall that was empty, save for the five wine glasses.

Each glass was placed in front of a person; there were two men and three women, all wearing white robes and tall, gold crowns. The woman sitting in the center, who had luscious, auburn hair that ran down her body and ended somewhere underneath the desk, had the tallest crown. It even had a ruby planted in the center.

"My dear, Queen Mary," the buff angel suddenly began, bowing down on one knee and placing his right hand over his heart—letting you go as he did so, "I humbly bow before you, and offer as a gift to your punishment, a young woman who has committed a crime such as the likes of which we have never seen in heaven before." With that he stood, but he wasn't finished talking. "I shall tell you, members of the Council, about how shocked I am, seeing as we were looking so forward to the Transferring of this girl. She seemed so pure of heart."

"She did not seem pure of heart, she is pure of heart," the auburn-haired woman said. "You are dismissed, Rodrick."

With that, the buff angel—Rodrick—left the room. He closed a grand set of white and gold, French double-doors behind him, which had been open when you entered.