ipeeglitter
When a beautiful saint takes a very accidental tumble from the pearly gates straight into the sulfur-scented pits of hell, she has to figure out what in all the realms she's supposed to do next... especially when her only "guides" are two demons who can barely count to three without starting an argument.
Sirena jolted awake, drenched in a cold, celestial sweat. Her vision spun with shimmering halos that quickly fizzled into soot and shadows. When it finally steadied, she found herself staring up at a gathering of devils-small, pointy, squeaking devils-forming a messy circle around her like a very confused welcoming committee.
"Is it... alive...?" one hissed, leaning in with all the caution of a squirrel approaching a mousetrap.
"Looks pretty dead to me!" another announced proudly, as if guessing correctly would earn him a prize. The whole group cackled, their shrill laughter bouncing off the cavern walls.
A particularly tiny devil-barely the height of Sirena's knee-stepped forward with the solemn duty of a knight and poked her in the ribs with a crooked stick. "Poke test says: maybe alive?"
Sirena sat bolt upright, wings flaring in bewildered indignation. "What in heaven's gates is happening?!" she thought, heart racing as the devils scrambled back in a flurry of limbs, tails, and panicked squeaks.
Somewhere nearby, two taller demons-clearly the supposed adults of the bunch-were arguing over whether angels were allowed to sue for wrongful relocation. Neither seemed very sure of the rules.
And so began Sirena's unintended descent into chaos: lost in hell, surrounded by idiots, and desperately clinging to hope that someone, anyone, here knew what they were doing.
(Spoiler: they did not.)