"Oooo, a cult. That sounds like fun," Angel said. He almost sounded impressed.

"It's not fun, Angel. It's disturbing," Isobel responded darkly as she crossed to the lobby.

"I don't know. Out of all the things you can 'accidentally' create, a cult sounds like one of the more fun." Isobel sat down next to him, and Angel leaned an elbow on the back of the couch, propping his cheek on his fist. "So is it a sex cult, a religious cult, or both?"

"Yet to be determined." Isobel rolled her eyes. "So far they just follow me around a little and tell me that I'm cool."

"Maybe you're thinking about this all wrong. Maybe it's not a cult, maybe it's just a fan club." This seemed to excite Angel even more. "You know I have a fan club. You've never seen more sexually frustrated degenerates in your life."

"Yeah? Do they also have your hair pinned to their shirts?"

"I wish that was the weirdest thing they do. I mean the stuff they send and write… I could show you pictures."

"Eww," Isobel could only imagine the collection of unsolicited dick pics from all over Hell. The variety must be dizzying.

Angel shrugged and sighed, "such is the life of a celebrity."

"I don't like it," she said as she grumpily slumped back into the couch and crossed her arms. Angel wrapped a comforting arm around her neck.

"Don't worry about it," he said. "Give it a few days and they'll get distracted by something else. You're exciting news now, but I know you, and the truth is you're really boring. I mean what are they gonna do? Watch you read all day?"

Isobel nodded solemnly, "Thanks, I needed to hear that."

"Anytime, babe."

She rested her head on his shoulder and after a moment's silence said, "Am I really boring?"

"Yeah," he replied. "Still love ya, though."

Isobel hoped that Angel was correct. She was already tired of her 15 minutes of fame. Another distraction couldn't come soon enough. If she kept her head down, maybe they would all go away sooner rather than later. That night she peered out her large window toward Pentagram City. She could still see them, just a handful, but she thought perhaps more than there had been last night. They stood clustered together just beyond the hotel's property line, little candle flames illuminating their faces and hair badges. For the first time since Isobel arrived in Hell, she closed the curtains shutting herself off from the outside.

"Feel the need for added privacy tonight?" Alastor asked from behind her.

"I just don't want anyone peering in at what I do in my own room."

"Should I be worried?"

"Don't bother, I have no plans on doing anything sinister to you, at least not tonight." Isobel winked, which caused him to chuckle. "It's just these people outside. They're creeping me out a little."

"I'm sure they are harmless," Alastor waved a hand as if to dismiss Isobel's concerns.

"Yeah, well, one followed me into the library today. She didn't try anything, just wanted to talk, but it was still weird. I think she even casually offered to give me her soul."

Alastor's ears perked up.

"Well, that's interesting," he said, turning toward her with his full attention.

"Yeah, I thought you would get a kick out of that." Isobel scoffed as she crawled into bed.

"She wanted to make a deal?"

"No deal. She said she would give it to me because she thought I would take care of it." She shrugged. Alastor paused to think. He had never given any thought to someone choosing to relinquish their soul to another without coercion of some kind.

"The next time someone offers you their soul, feel free to send them my way."

"So you can add them to your collection?"

"The more souls I possess the greater my power."

"And why would I want to help you with that?"

"My power is your power." Isobel didn't believe that for a second. "After all, you are not an Overlord, or a demon for that matter. A soul would do you no good. But I, on the other hand, would be happy to take it off their hands."

"I guess that's true, but you and the other Overlords seem to be the problem. I guess there are a lot of residents that don't want to become slaves to psychopaths." Alastor over-dramatically balked at Isobel's statement as if her words had greatly offended him.

"I am a very magnanimous Overlord."

"Husk might disagree."

"In fact, I can show you how benevolent I can be with a soul. Shall we use yours as an example?" He held out his hand beckoning her to shake. Isobel crossed her arms and scowled at him.

"Hard pass," she said.

Alastor shrugged as if to say, can't blame a guy for trying.

That night, Isobel found it very hard to sleep. Her brain kept turning over the conversation she had with Kali and the one she had with Alastor. Questions arose in her head, specifically about the relationship between sinners and the ones that own their souls. So in the early light of dawn, she finally rose, leaving Alastor sleeping. She realized that she neglected to bring any books home the day before and thought maybe going early would mean she could avoid any unwanted attention.

Thankfully no one was waiting outside. Maybe Angel was right, and they had all gotten bored or found a new subject of fascination.

It didn't take long after entering the library before Isobel heard the faint rustling of another person among the books. She turned down an aisle and was met by acid green glowing eyes.

"Hello, Zestial," she said.

"Good morrow, Isobel. How art thou?" he said bowing low before her. "It is unlike you to be awake so close to the witching hour."

"Yeah, couldn't really sleep. Maybe you could help me."

"Happy to offer my assistance."

"Are there any books in here about Overlords?"

He looked at her with suspicion.

"And what dost thou need with the likes of those?"

Isobel shrugged, "curiosity?"

Zestial was not convinced, but he still directed her to several volumes that centered around the workings of Overlords and their system of ruling over and possessing other souls. Isobel was able to discover that it was, well, complicated. But it seemed to be a kind of natural order to Hell. Maybe after one died and was condemned, this kind of thing was part of the general consciousness.

Unfortunately, somewhere between how one achieves Overlord status, and the variety of ways of sealing a deal, Isobel fell asleep face down on a book.

When she woke a page was stuck to her face, a result of her mouth breathing in the position. Also, surprisingly she found a lukewarm coffee and stale croissant waiting for her on the table. She looked around for Zestial, but found Kali instead.

"Good morning!" she said brightly. "I went to the hotel but they said you were out, so I thought this would be the next obvious place. Then I found you like that, but I didn't want to wake you. And then I thought you might want a snack when you woke up."

"Ok, ok," Isobel blinked her heavy eyelids. This was too much first thing in the morning. "That's very kind of you." She eyed the coffee and pastry. What were the odds that they were poisoned somehow?

"I see you're reading about Overlords."

"Oh, uh, yeah," Isobel glanced down at the book trying to remember what exactly she had been looking at before she fell asleep. "After our conversation yesterday I had some questions about the whole thing."

"It's so admirable that you would go out of your way to research our plight."

"Ok stop," Isobel had reached the end of her patience. "Enough with the compliments and accolades, or whatever. I'm not an inspiration. I'm not some special, amazing person. Can you just speak to me like normal."

Kali dropped her head, "I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable."

Isobel sighed, hands in hair frustrated. Now she was the bad guy.

"I'm just not used to this kind of thing."

Now Kali looked concerned, "you're not used to people speaking nicely to you?"

"That's not what this feels like."

"There's many of us that do think you are special," she said with a bit more force and insistence. "You defeated an angel. You spoke to God. And I wasn't lying before when I said there are plenty of us ready to give you our souls, because we can tell you are the kind of person that can be trusted."

"Am I?" Isobel's eyes narrowed. Was this chick running a con of some kind, or was she just batshit crazy? Isobel was ready to call her bluff. "Fine," she said as she thumped her elbow on the table, extending a black hand. "Then let's make a deal."

Kali's eyes flared and she quickly sat down opposite of Isobel.

"Are you being serious?" she asked.

"Sure," Isobel didn't really know how to make a deal or whether it was even possible. Still she sat faking the confidence of someone who had done it a million times before. Kali eyed her hand hesitantly. But was it a hesitation born of uneasiness or excitement?

As Kali reached out, Isobel jerked her hand away.

"You understand if you shake my hand," Isobel said. "It means I will own your soul to do with as I please. Do you have any terms?"

"Do I need terms?" Kali seemed confused.

"Don't you want something in return?"

"Just knowing my soul is safely in your hands instead of some power hungry sadist is enough for me."

They were in a game of chicken it would seem. Each waiting for the other to flinch. Or at least that is what Isobel thought. There was no way this goat-eared sinner from Hell could be this earnest, this willing to trust the first living person she saw on the TV. There was a knot in Isobel's chest telling her that this was a dangerous game they were playing. A game probably left to those power hungry sadists, like Alastor. But Isobel was not about to back down.

It didn't really matter after all. They would shake hands and nothing would happen. It would be terribly anticlimactic and disappointing for Kali. Who then would understand that Isobel was not the kind of person she was hoping for.

Isobel offered her hand again. Kali instantly took it.

The second Kali's hand clamped down on her own, Isobel felt the sensation like a bolt of electricity shooting up her arm. A flash of purple light flared from where their palms met, but was gone in an instant. They both released, Kali looking quite pleased.

Isobel stared at her open handed, completely staggered.

"Well, shit."