Blitz and Isobel crouched in an alley not too far from Stolas' mansion facing each other across the grimoire. Blitz shuffled through pages as he spoke.

"So I open the portal, you jump through, and then I close it. Easy-peasy."

"No," Isobel said firmly. "I need you to open the portal and then keep it open until I come back. Should be about an hour, hopefully less."

"What? That wasn't the deal, you said you needed this to get back home."

"I said I needed to get back home, but first I had to do this." She sighed exasperated. "Whatever is through that portal is no longer my home. The hotel is. And I could have gone back to Pride anytime, but I have to make sure we're all safe first, and that now includes you and anyone here that has helped me."

"So, what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to amplify my voice."

Blitz stared at her, "whatever the fuck that means."

A shimmering purple glow split the bricks of a nearby wall. The glow widened, opening into a circular tear between Hell and the living world. Isobel stepped up to it, but a sudden nervousness came over her and she glanced back at Blitz.

"I'll do the best I can. These things can get tricky sometimes. So hurry up, will ya?"

She nodded and then stepped through.

On the other side, a crisp mid autumn chill met her. Her first reflex was to shove her hands into her jacket pockets and was reminded of just how worn they had become as a finger poked through a hole. She started walking.

She was in an alley very similar to the one she had just left back in Hell, though it lacked the stink. In fact, the air had never smelled so sweet. The sky above was a bright, brilliant blue and the light was warm and cheerful, not red and angry.

As she came out on the street, she found more people, and part of her felt shocked as she realized they all looked like her. They were all so incredibly human. Part of her wanted to hug each and every one of them, and scream, and skip, but she restrained herself.

She had told Blitz she would hurry. She needed to focus.

Taking a survey of her surroundings, she knew it would be too much to expect to be spit out in a familiar place, so she needed to find her bearings. Due to weather and architecture, she guessed that she was somewhere in the northeast of the United States. That should make it easy enough. It was a bustling town, wherever this was, and it wasn't long after following the foot traffic that she came to a rather big intersection. This is what she needed.

The sky opened up and she spun in a circle casting her gaze toward the top of the buildings until she found what she was looking for. Rising higher than the other red brick and stone faces, a white bell tower could be seen in the distance. She immediately steered her feet in that direction, walking faster and faster until she broke into a trot. She finally stopped in front of an old colonial church. Its white columns rose high and its tall, ornate bell tower cast a shadow over the street and Isobel alike.

She pulled out her phone, which had been buzzing in her jacket the whole walk over. The screen showed message after message, all from her old job, all from the week she had gone missing, and the last of which notified her that she no longer had a job. She swiped them away, it was all moot anyway. The screen also told her that it was 2pm on a Wednesday. Hopefully the church would be open but empty.

As she climbed the stairs a kind of fear crept over her and that shitty little voice in the back of her head pleaded for her to stop. She could walk away. The world seemed all fresh and beautiful. Far more beautiful than she had ever noticed before. Maybe her time in Hell would actually make her feel grateful for what she had in the living world. She could maybe just start over and work toward removing the black corruption from her soul. She looked down at her hands and found that here she could not see the smudges.

Her logical brain kept repeating that the little voice was a coward, she just needed to finish this.

The doors were heavy as she pushed them open. A familiar quiet and the smell of frankincense met her. She hesitated as she stared across the naive. Rows of neat pews ran up either side making a long aisle that terminated in the front at a huge wooden cross adorned with flowers and ribbons.

Isobel took a few steps forward and out of habit dipped her fingers into a small fountain of holy water. She winced and snatched her hand back as her fingers stung and tingled. She had not noticed before but she could feel it now. A dull prickle over her hands, feet, and down her spine, almost like the pins and needles one feels when an appendage falls asleep. Her black marks seemed to be reacting to the church. She wiped her hand on her pant leg and moved down the aisle.

She sighed as she got to the end and dropped to her knees, clasping her hands in front of her. Suddenly her mind went blank.

"Fuck," she breathed, then immediately looked up at the cross realizing what she said. "Uh sorry." Alright, start again. "Ok, so if you are like how they say you are, you know who I am. I know I haven't prayed in a while, but, heh, can you really blame me?" She paused and listened to the quiet. "Anyway, I have some things I need to tell you now, and I need to make sure you hear me." She stopped to listen, nothing. "Um, can you hear me?"

A chuckle lifted Isobel's eyes up from the floor. In the pulpit, casually leaning on its elbows, a Valais Blacknose sheep wearing some kind of red cape smiled back at her.

"Yeah, I hear ya. How you doing?" It said with a smirk.

Isobel cocked an eyebrow, "what are you supposed to be?"

"Oh, me?" The sheep looked down at itself. "A lamb in a poncho? I guess?" It gracefully jumped down and walked up to the altar, balancing on its two hind legs.

"Ok, but why do you look like that?"

It shrugged, "don't ask me. I am that I am and I only appear as what the human consciousness can perceive me to be."

"Are you telling me that Moses' consciousness could only perceive a burning bush?" She was skeptical.

"I know, weird, right?" It picked up a candle and sniffed it, wrinkling its nose and then placing it back down.

"I don't know if I can take you seriously like that."

The lamb sighed, "fine. How about this?" With a little flash of light and a slight popping noise the lamb was gone and in its place was a big black cat with three golden eyes. "Is this more to your liking?"

"I don't really know." Isobel wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but it wasn't this.

"Well, I can do the shapeshifting thing all day," the cat said as it jumped onto the altar. "But why don't we talk about why you called me here. By the way, great to hear you praying again."

"Ok, so, you know who I am, right? And what's been going on?"

"Of course I do. Isobel, the living soul, I've heard some interesting stories, and of course I watched you perform at that gala thing."

"You watch Hell's Television?"

"Believe it or not, Heaven's programming is very boring." The cat laid down lounging on the marble slab. "From what I remember, you are also the one defying my angels and actually choosing to stay in Hell because you have demon friends, or a demon lover, or something like that."

Isobel closed her eyes exasperated, "I really wish people would stop bringing that up."

"It's hot gossip," the cat rolled onto its back, head hanging off the edge and front paws curled up. "Can't blame people for talking. You have to admit, it's an intriguing tale, though monumentally stupid."

Isobel grumbled, she did not appreciate this cat calling her stupid.

"I hope you don't think this demon, no matter how much he makes the kitty purr…"

"Gross."

"…is looking out for you. Mark my words, there will be ulterior motives."

"Well, no shit," she hesitated, but the cursing didn't seem to bother the cat. "I know Alastor has his own plans and schemes. I understand he's a monster, but at least with him it felt like I didn't have to be a victim anymore."

The cat rolled back over and gave her a comically quizzical look. It was obvious that it did not know what she was talking about, which pissed her off. Wasn't it supposed to know everything about her? Didn't it have a plan for her? Work in mysterious ways and all that bullshit? She rose off her knees and started to climb up to the altar.

"Come on, you know. All my life I was a victim, at least that's what they all called me, right? I was a victim of abuse, a victim of neglect, a victim of violence, a victim of addiction, a victim of circumstance. Always the fucking victim. And then, unbelievably, it got worse because at a certain age I somehow grew out of being a victim. I was now a survivor. And a survivor is supposed to help other victims become survivors, right? Like the wound is healed, like the hurt is gone."

The cat blinked back at her seemingly unmoved. It pissed her off even more.

"Do you know what I was doing when all this shit happened?" It said nothing. "I was driving back home from court. You see, it was the third day of my brother's trial."

"Oh, really? Was he also prone to bad behavior?"

"No, he was murdered." Isobel leaned her head down on the altar. "He was shot by some random asshole on the street because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time looking for me while I was on one of my goddamn benders."

Isobel stood up, fixing the cat in a cold green glare. "So you see, it was this place, this life that felt like the nightmare. I was already in Hell. And maybe it was all my fault. The darkness inside me destroyed all the good in my life, and for some reason I never even cared. But then suddenly I was someplace else. I know it was supposed to be wretched and horrible and all the people were supposed to be evil, but the truth is it never compared."

The cat laughed and rolled over again.

"This is why humans are my favorite. Your free will just wreaks havoc with your lives, doesn't it? And yet you all still toil away, concocting meaning to everything. You want to know a secret? I don't even have to punish your souls in the afterlife. You all punish each other as it is, or there's so much self loathing that you'll punish yourselves."

It laughed more and then took a deep sigh as it turned back into the sheep with the red cape. It sat at the edge of the altar and crossed its legs.

"So tell me, what's it feel like to no longer be a victim?"

"I wish I knew," Isobel shrugged. "I thought I knew, but then came Enki and her bullshit. I couldn't escape her."

"Oh, please," the sheep waved a hoof. "Angels don't hurt living souls."

"Except when they snuff them out to harvest their energy, right?" The sheep stopped and stared at her with a confused and yet serious expression. "Not aware of that? So which is it? Do you know everything, or just what the angels tell you? Did you know she abandoned me in Wrath, as well? And I don't think I'm the first soul she's ever done that to either."

"Perhaps," the lamb was now very serious. "It is time you tell me what you were praying for. Why did you summon me? Something tells me it is not what I originally thought. Are you not praying to remove the corruption from your soul?"

"No," though part of her had really wanted that. "I understand now that I don't really belong anywhere. So I'll choose for myself. I want to go back to the hotel, but I don't want to bring danger and destruction with me. I can't have a deranged angel following me around."

The lamb stared at her for a minute and then turned back into the black cat.

"Hmm, humans and their drama. Though you all are very amusing. It's one of the reasons you are my favorites." The cat jumped into the pulpit. "Send Enki to me. I will take care of her."

Then, somehow, it was gone and Isobel was alone. The tingling in her hands and feet had become complete numbness as she exited the church. She looked around in the bright sun, trying to remember how to get back to the portal and Blitz awaiting her, and then her eyes fell on a sweet shop just across the street. In the window a sign read, 'ice cream served here.'

Isobel stepped back through the portal into the now familiar stench and heat of Hell, ice cream cone in hand. It was a hefty scoop of chocolate chip cookie dough atop a waffle cone. She had intended to share with Blitz as a kind of thank you, also knowing she wouldn't be able to finish it all on her own.

But her smile failed as she noticed Stolas' precious grimoire laying on the ground and next to it Blitz pinned under an angel's boot. Isobel's brain froze.

"Sorry," he managed to say. "The fuckers surprised me."

She was too slow to react as arms wrapped around her from behind and jerked her into the air.

Isobel watched as her ice cream cone tumbled out of her hand and smashed on the ground.