Alright, this is a new story I'm starting (which I shouldn't be because I have other stories I need to be finishing but I had this idea and had to write it down) so I really hope you like it.

Warning: lots of bad language throughout this story.

Fuck being a demon. I hate this shit. Every time you try and follow orders, you end up getting tortured then sent right back to square one. Right back to the beginning. The flaming depths of Hell. This shit sucked and I was done with it. But of course, being a demon, you can never truly escape your pathetic fate. Not unless you cross the Winchesters which I don't ever plan to do. They were in possession of the Colt and Sam had his freaky mind power thing. No way was I ever getting near them so I was stuck with this bullshit.

…...

"You've got to be joking." His expression was anything but that. He couldn't be serious. "Why me?! Why not Damion or Cassandra or-or Ruby! Ruby knows the Winchesters! She-"

"She's dead."

Oh. "Well still! Why in god's name-" his eye twitched, " out of all the demons in Hell, would you choose me? Why not someone with more experience?" I stared at Lucifer, wide eyed, waiting for him to start laughing and tell me this was just a joke. He would send another demon with more experience. Another demon who could handle the Winchesters. I could stay right here in Hell... but this was Lucifer. That wasn't happening.

He sent me an annoyed glare, "You're my daughter." Oh yeah. I'm the devil's daughter. "It's time you gotexperience. Now, go kill the Winchesters and bring back the Colt." He made it sound so simple. Like a damn monkey could do the job. Before I could protest anymore, he snapped his fingers and suddenly I was standing in front of an auto shop. A certain Bobby Singer's auto shop. With a 1967 Chevy Impala parked outside the door. Shit.

…...

Let me give you a little insight on me. I'm Lucifer's daughter. Don't ask how or why. I don't know the details and I'd prefer to keep it that way. I'm also the youngest of thirteen. All girls. I know, I know, why didn't my old man send one of my other sisters to do this? They were much better at being demonic than me. I sucked at it. I never got the torturing thing down. I always ended up being tortured and then sent back to Hell, back to a very pissed off daddy. Which pissed me off. Not only because I was in Hell again, but because I never seemed to get it right. I mean, I can turn my eyes black whenever I want, I have the super hearing that the others have, and I can read people but I can't really do anything else. It angers the shit out of me. I know some demons can disappear in the blink of an eye. I tried but then had to stop when I strained something. I was the laughing stock in Hell for weeks. Anyways point is, I can't defend myself. I'm a demon and I can't defend myself. What the hell. I know it sounds crazy, but it's true so because of that, I've disappointed my father so many times. Not that I really care what he thinks of me... It's just I would like to be able to feel like a demon. To do everything all the others can. Because this? What I'm doing now? Is bullshit.

Muttering under my breath about daddy issues, I pep talked myself. Even though this was stupid and I would get killed I had to at least attempt to fulfill the task bestowed upon me. Staring angrily at the auto body shop, I huffed. I was going to do this. I would off the Winchesters once and for all and then bring back the Colt to the devil. I would kick some ass and make myself famous in the underworld (not just for being Lucifer's kid) and maybe also make my father proud in the process... again not like I care what he thinks of me. So I started towards the building, a smirk on my face, a plan in my head, and a picture of my father looking proudly at me, and all the other demons looking on jealously, while I tell them all about how I killed the famous Winchesters and stole the famous Colt.