Chapter 1

Innocence.

Today started out just as boring as any other day. I'd wake up to the sounds of tortured souls just outside my window, drag myself down the stairs and into the kitchen where my father, Satan, was making breakfast with his stupid colorful apron and that ridiculous tune he always hummed, sit there for a while picking at my food before I just threw it away, and then I would plop down on the sofa to see what was going on up there on earth. Watching the mortals was like watching television; interesting enough, but still, it wasn't happening to you so why does it matter?

You would think I have the life of a typical 17 year old boy; bored out of my mind doing nothing in particular all day, and always finding something to complain about even though my life is seemingly good. I guess everyone thinks that as the son of Satan, I'd have a more interesting lifestyle, but no, it's still boring as hell (I know, terrible pun). At least, that's what I thought, until she showed up.

At first, she seemed like just another reckless soul who wound up here in hell. But that scared look on her face told me otherwise. She didn't belong here, that's for sure. I looked out my window, watching her twist her artificial blue hair between her fingers as she looked around wondering where in the world she was. Wait, correction, where the hell was she. Deciding to spare her of confusion, I yelled to my dad telling him we had another misplaced one before I walked outside.

The moment my door opened, she looked over at me with her big brown eyes. I walked up to her, helping her off the ground where she had been kneeling.

"Who are you? Where am I?! What happened?!" she panicked, fidgeting with her blue hair. She was obviously French, having a heavy French accent that reminded me of Christophe – an old friend of mine from my days back in South Park.

"I'm Damien, son of Satan. And, from the looks of it, you died and went to hell. Though, it doesn't seem like you belong here." I replied, running my hand through my messy black hair. She stared at me before looking down, tugging on the front of her jacket and smoothing out invisible wrinkles.

"Why am I in hell? What did I do wrong?" She asked, tears building up in her eyes.

"I'm not sure. You'd have to ask my father." Wait, why was I being nice to her? I'm the son of Satan! I shouldn't have to be nice to a confused little French girl! I tugged her by the sleeve, pulling her into my house.

"Wait here" I ordered, gently pushing her onto my sofa. She sat there, looking around with a look of complete shock and confusion on her face. I turned around, jolting into the kitchen to get my father. He was still in that wretched apron, cleaning dishes.

"Dad, there's a girl here. She just arrived, and I honestly don't think she belongs here." I said, rolling my eyes as a cover up. I didn't want him thinking I actually cared.

"Oh, a visitor? Lovely." He said, drying his hands and walking into the living room as I followed right behind him. The girl looked up from her lap, staring in complete amazement at my father. Yeah, he was huge, red, and demon-ish, but isn't that what everyone perceived him as on earth? Should she really be shocked that their guess was right? Or was it that he was wearing a stupid frilly apron with a genuine smile on his face? Who knows.

My dad stood in front of her, looking her over. After a minute, he turned back to me. "You're right Damien, she doesn't look like she belongs here." He looked at her. "What is your name, poor soul?"

"Umm. My n-name is Jade. Jade Ackland," she squeaked.

"Jade Ackland? The Jade Ackland from South Park?" My father asked.

"Oui. I am French, but I live in South Park. I was defending my friend Pip and the next thing I knew I was in hell!" She cried, looking back down at her lap. Pip? She knew Pip?

My father sat down next to her, putting his arm around her. Sheesh, he was the complete opposite of what a mortal would expect of him. "There there, Jade. We'll get this straightened out. You don't belong down here." He said. Oh yeah, state the obvious. That's great. I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest as I started to walk up the stairs.

"Oh, Damien, Will you take her upstairs and help her get settled in. It may be a while before we get her back up to earth, and I want her to feel at home." He called to me, making me freeze in my tracks. Oh shit, now I have to comfort her?! Hell, that's stupid. I'm the son of Satan, I should be torturing people for fun, not comforting some sissy little girl who wound up in hell by mistake.

I rolled my eyes, walking over to her and tugging her by the sleeve. "Come on" I said, pulling her up the stairs and into my room. Great, I now have a new roommate… Fucking Christ.