Morticia almost wept but maintained her composure. She was not one to let her emotions get the best of her. Alone, she decided, later I will cry alone. But Satan was still angry. And would get the information out of her, no matter what. "Now, answer me." He said. "What. Did. You. Say?"

"All I did was speak French. Figure it out." Morticia said.

"I can't!" Satan said.

Morticia, for once, smiled inside. Well, at least, she laughed. She had never pictured Satan like this. "Are you telling me that you're Satan? And you aren't even at least bilingual?" She chuckled.

"Oh, you think that's funny, huh?" Satan asked, a boiling pot of rage. "So, you don't care one bit that you're bleeding?"

"I bleed more on the inside than you'll ever know. This worries me not." Morticia stated, calmly.

"You know what? You don't realize how lucky you are. You're going to be me. You'll get to rule the darkest place imaginable. One day, you will thank me for this. It's a shame. You are beautiful. Pretty soon I'll have to mark up that pretty face of yours." Satan whispered to her. "Your training begins soon. Goodbye." Number three then came in and took Morticia back to her cell.

He threw her in and locked her cell, she re-opened the cut on her hand and her father, a pool of tears ran to her and held her. "Oh, Morticia. I'm so sorry. I tried, I'm sorry. I'm so sorrry." He had been in Hell for years, and he had never hurt more than this moment, because hurting his own flesh and blood hurt him more than any type of physical torture Satan could fathom.

"Shh, father. I'm alright. It's fine." she sighed. She decided it was time to break the news she had been holding back. "Father... what happened to you?" Morticia asked.

"Nothing." Charles lied.

"That's not true. I saw you five years ago. Something happened with the family... you helped me. You said you would visit me... And after Pubert was born, you stopped. You were in Hell before... I figured I had gotten you out. I thought maybe you had gotten tied up with something..." She had become slightly teary eyed. She decided, against her better judgement, that this was her father and if she indeed was going to cry, do it silently... do it now. "But I was wrong." She embraced him and wept.

"My memory..." Charles began. "Morticia, " he held her chin up and looked into her eyes. And then he saw it all. He saw what had happened five years ago. He remembered. "I know. Satan took my memory. He said he was going to break you. And I was a tool he could do it with. He took my memory."

"That monster." Morticia said. "Nobody uses my family." And from that moment, she decided that she would not show any weakness with Satan. Morticia, known for being proper, although morbid and dark, classy, and elegant... Even graceful black swans have hidden teeth. And her's were about to show.

A whole night passed, and Morticia slept at her father's side... she awoke and number three was opening the cell. Charles was asleep. Morticia stared at him. Let him sleep, she thought. Don't let him see this. And so, number three led her down the hall and this time, into an all white room with a giant window that she saw people who looked identical to number three. Satan stood near her. He looked at her and did nothing else. He slowly walked towards her, testing her limits.

Morticia did not move. However she spoke. "If you touch me, I promise you, it won't be pretty."

Satan ignored her. He was soon about four inches away from her. "So, let's get started." His breath smelled of fire. "Three, you are dismissed." Number three exited. "Now, we will begin to test your physical and mental limits." The room instantly turned to the color of molten rock with hints of red. He tossed her a knife and dissapeared. Emeron stood in the corner. He was facing the wall. She ran to him, hoping he was alright. "Emeron?"

Emeron turned, he was soaked in blood and he held a gun. He looked at Morticia. "I didn't mean to. He was going to hurt me. But don't worry. Soon, you'll learn to do it to. It's the only way."

"Emeron, what did you do?" Morticia asked.

"What you will do. Daddy didn't love me. Satan said so."

"Emeron! Emeron, no. That wasn't right. Don't listen to him. Don't-"

"Satan says you have to hurt me. If you don't kill me, you will suffer. He armed you with that knife for a reason. But you can't kill me with that." Emeron said.

"Why?" Morticia asked.

"Because I have a better weapon." Emeron smiled. "I'm a child."

"No, " Morticia said. "your not." With that she almost drove the knife into him but stopped herself. "No, no I can't do this." At this point, she knew it was not Emeron... but how could she be sure? She wanted to do it if indeed it was a disquise of the devil as she predicted. But she would not kill because of suspision. And yet... she inched closer and again, stopped.

"Do it." Satan's voice had come out of Emeron. And at this, Morticia drove the knife straight through him. She had hurt Satan. Or perhaps not. Satan appeared next to her and Emeron was dead on the floor. Only then did she realize what she had done. "No! No, you tricked me!" She cried.

"Oh, relax." Emeron turned to dust before her eyes. "He wasn't real."

"I thought it was you." Morticia said.

"We both know a kife can't stop me. So why do you want it to go through my heart. A senseless act of violence, really. You really are a monster." He lied.

"No, I'm not. Becuase true monsters do not look evil, they are evil. Even those that dawn white dresses and have the name of Angel can be a monster. I am no monster. I would never murder a child. Or an innocent. But if I could, I would murder you. And I assure you I won't need to repent for that because I would be praised for it." Morticia snapped.

"Morticia... I know why you hate me." Satan said. "Because you think I hate you. But I don't. And I'm going to show it. Perhaps if I gave you a little taste of your soon-to-be new life, you would not hate it or me. Dinner time! And then off to visit the conquistador!" They disappeared into a room that was black and had a rectangle table made of fire with a chair at each end of the table.

Satan sat at one end and Morticia sat at the other. A dinner of escargot. "So," Satan began. "How was your evening?"

"Well, " Morticia calmly started. "It was fine, I was tortured, forced away from my family and thought I had murdered a child." She said.

"Don't be like that. Now, tell me about your life. Stuff in your diary." Satan drank his wine.

"I don't own a diary." Morticia stated.

"Aww, come on. Every woman has a diary." Satan said.

"Everything I share, I share verbally or not at all." Morticia told him.

"Fine, fine. You know something, Tish? I think it's time I show you exactly what your dealing with." With these words, Satan dragged her to a balcony looking out at half naked slaves with no age limits, barefoot and turning a giant wooden crank or doing other torturous work. "You could build this on earth. This could be yours. And you could rule it all. And this is quite a generous offer because... you're mine." They flashed into a fire red room with a water bed that had black sheets. Satan looked at her. I would say this is much comfier than a dirty old cell." He inched closer to her.

"It is." Morticia figured if she obeyed Satan, he wouldn't harm her tonight in front of Gomez.

Satan smiled at her and was finally one movement away from her lips. And for an instant, they almost touched if not for Morticia thrusting her hips and bashing her head with his. She may have given herself a concussion, but it worked. And he was furious. "I can give you everything!" He said. "I would have given you a bed, a kingdom of sorts but no. In order to turn you into a monster, you have to love me! Or at least pretend!" He grabbed at her but she pulled away and finally he gave up and once again, they were infront of a screen. Satan waited for a while but Gomez was not there. However, someone else was.