It hurt. Dying shouldn't hurt this bad. Being dead shouldn't hurt this bad.
It was so dark. Just like before she had died.
She screamed. She cried out. But no one heard.
Or they did. And no one cared.
…
She kept screaming.
…
How long had it been? A decade? Two? Three?
It certainly felt that long, but telling time wasn't exactly easy here.
Where was she, anyway?
Hell? It must be hell.
It must be.
…
She was angry.
Furious.
Distorted.
…
She didn't scream anymore. She seethed in silent hatred. She had become a dark mass of toxic energy not even the demons would come near.
Except one.
He was curious. This tortured soul had been here much less time than the others, but it was so much stronger. It's hatred more potent.
He knew it was dangerous to mess with another demons prey.
But he was curious.
…
Her name was Viola.
Ellen? Viola?
He wasn't quite sure.
When first approaching her, she ignored him. He respected that.
Most tortured souls reached out, begging for help. Even from demons.
She didn't. Perhaps it was because her cries had never been answered before. Maybe she hated demons too much to beg one.
He didn't really care.
"Would you like to make a contract?"
…
Her host body was left in utter disarray. A complete mess.
She was missing her eyes and her legs. She had two gaping bullet wounds in her head. She could only speak in a garbled mess.
There was a lot of work to be done.
…
She could speak normally in two days.
He asked her how she was.
The first thing she told him was to fuck off.
He briefly wondered where such a young girl had learned such crass language.
Then he remembered she had been in hell.
…
"How long was I there?" She asked quietly. Her throat was still sore.
"By human standards? You were gone three years. That's thirty years in hell."
"What of the black cat?"
"Oh, the other demon? I'm sure he'll show up eventually."
Good. He would pay, too.
…
It took two years for her eyes to grow back. Another month before she could actually see out of them.
By that point, she had knees again, but no calves or feet.
It was such a slow process.
Viola had learned patience in hell.
…
The demon talked too much.
Way too much.
It exhausted Viola. This body she had been left with required too much sleep.
…
The Black Cat showed himself.
He wasn't pleased Viola's soul had been taken from him.
"Her soul is mine by right." He argued.
"She isn't the one you made a contract with." Her demon replied calmly.
Her demon. What a dreadful term.
…
The Black Cat demands payment.
Viola demands retribution.
It was all very frustrating.
So the demon killed the black cat.
He would be back, of course.
The demon looked forward to it.
…
She could walk now. Slowly, painfully, she could walk.
The demon had to help her most of time.
She hated that she needed his help.
…
Her body aged, as time went by. Ellen had only been around seven when she had become a witch. Now, still trapped within her body, Viola was same age she had been when she had died.
Thirteen.
It left a bad taste in her mouth.
…
They stayed in that house. Viola didn't know why, but she assumed it was just easier.
…
A boy came by the house. A boy her age.
It was raining outside, and he was lost in the forest.
Viola invited him inside for something warm to drink.
He asked if she lived in the house all alone.
She told him her demon lived with her.
He laughed, and told her she was pretty.
It was the first time she had smiled in ages.
…
The boy became a regular visitor.
He would talk about his life, and have cake and tea with her.
He was a farm boy. He lived just on the edge of the forest, just like her and father had.
He had three siblings. He worried his younger sister wouldn't survive the winter.
Viola went into the old cabinet and gave him some of Ellen's leftover medications.
He cried from joy.
She did not see him the entire Winter.
…
She was happy when he returned.
They sat down for dinner. He told her that his sister had lived, thanks to the medicine she gave them.
His family wants to meet her.
Viola accepts.
…
"It's just dinner," She argued.
"If you are well enough to leave the mansion, you are well enough to take revenge."
He has a point.
"Tonight, then. Right after."
…
His family is wonderful.
They thank her for the medicine.
His little sister asks if she is an angel, or a fairy.
Her demon snickers.
…
The house is the same as she remembers it.
Old and rickety. In desperate need of repair.
The lights are on inside.
She hears laughter.
…
She must be in her early twenties by now.
She is beautiful.
Gone are the cute braids. Gone is the pretty blue dress.
Her hair is long and falls down her back. Her dress is lavender and pretty.
There is a man on her arm.
Her father sits at the table.
…
"How?" She had asked.
Ellen had recognized her on sight.
Her eyes had narrowed to slits, her mouth opening wide in shock.
All talk and laughter had ceased in the house.
"What are you doing in my house?" Her father had yelled.
It pained Viola to set him again.
"You stole something from me. You stole it, and you didn't give it back." Viola spoke low and cold. She sounded like a monster.
She sounded like Ellen.
"How?" The same word, repeated again.
"Viola's never stolen anything in her life!" Her father objected.
"No, she hasn't." Viola answers softly. "Ellen has." Viola doesn't move her eyes from Ellen.
…
She tries to run.
She cried out to the Black Cat for help.
She begged for forgiveness.
She called her friend.
If there were any poetic justice in the world, Viola would have let Ellen die just as she had.
Instead, she stabbed her in the heart and watched her bleed out.
She was not satisfied.
…
"It's time." The demon warned her.
He almost seemed sad. Viola couldn't tell if it was a lie or not.
They had made a good team.
"Will it hurt like last time?" She asked.
He didn't comfort her with a lie.
"You don't seem happy," He noticed.
"I'm not."
…
He offered her a way out.
"You could collect souls for me. I could take theirs, not yours."
It was a tempting offer.
"I won't be her. I can't."
He seemed disappointed.
…
He took her soul.
He wasn't satisfied.
Perhaps even demons felt sympathy, he pondered.
He returned to hell.
...