19

"If it hurts you, take me to Hell, Adzriel!"

Erika's tone was firm. The woman had no idea what she was saying, Adzriel thought.

"You think Hell is that simple? Do you really think you can endure the scorching flames and the torment? They're already waiting for you, whips in hand," Adzriel replied, lying shirtless on the sofa. With both hands behind his head, Erika, standing not far from him, could clearly see the wounds on his body growing deeper.

"You can't let them hurt you. I will bear the consequences of my choices," Erika said.

"Besides, it wouldn't be fair if only one soul among the thousands who sold themselves to you were spared. I don't want to be considered too special." Erika's words sounded sincere. Adzriel couldn't remember the last time he had heard such a genuine tone. Erika was unlike the greedy humans who sold their souls for power and wealth.

"Keep talking, my dear. If even the tip of your toe touches Hell, you'll be screaming for my help. In the end, I'll be the one sacrificing myself for you. And don't talk to me about being special—because you are special to me." Adzriel closed his eyes. Soon, he felt a touch on his broad chest and abdomen.

Erika embraced him, burying her face in his chest.

For a moment, Adzriel was bewildered. For centuries, no being in this world had ever held him like this. But this human, this woman, embraced him as if he were not a demon. Adzriel felt something unfamiliar—he felt cherished.

"Ah, you're so sweet, my dear. Is this regret because I was punished for you, or is it simply pity?" Adzriel stroked her long, silky hair—black as the night, carrying a scent he adored.

"Both," Erika answered.

"Hmm... you're very honest." Adzriel smirked.

"You know what else I must be honest about, Adzriel?" Erika lifted her head to look into his eyes.

"What is it, my dear? Tell me."

"I don't think I can return your love, Adzriel. You know I'm just a mortal being, drawn to luxury and power. I used you to obtain those things. I don't love you—I love this world. Isn't that what you always say? That humans like me are mere fleeting creatures, easily enchanted by worldly pleasures?" Erika stated firmly.

Adzriel studied her face intently, searching for any lies. Yet, he was too confident that one day, Erika would love him back.

"Ah, you're too sure of yourself, my dear. I know you'll fall for me eventually." Adzriel cupped her chin, tracing his fingers along her jawline.

Erika weakly shook her head and lowered her gaze.

"Just take me to Hell, Adzriel," she pleaded, her expression pitiful—trying to deceive the Prince of Darkness, Adzriel thought.

"Ah, you're clever, trying to trick me. You say you don't love me just so I'll take your soul, isn't that right?" Adzriel suddenly stood, leaving Erika sitting on the sofa.

"You're only stalling, Adzriel. Sooner or later, they'll take me," Erika replied.

"I won't let that happen. And don't talk to me about stalling! You have done the same to me."

Adzriel donned his robe again, covering the wounds that pained Erika to see. If only she could surrender her soul without Adzriel's involvement, she would have done so gladly.

Moments later, he was gone—vanished before Erika's eyes as he walked away, leaving her alone.

She had always enjoyed solitude. But now, ever since Adzriel's presence in her life, his absence left an unfamiliar emptiness.

"Can demons even feel offended? Does he really love me? And if he does... how is that possible? I'm just an ordinary human, nothing compared to a being like him," Erika muttered to herself.

That night, she was alone—cooking, dining, and making herself a cup of coffee in silence. She couldn't stop wondering what punishment Adzriel would receive for returning without her.

She should be relieved—Adzriel refused to take her soul. That had been her plan from the start: to stall for time.

She only wanted wealth and power, not love. So why did she find herself worrying about him? Wondering if he was alright whenever he didn't appear?

"She's alone," said a figure known as Levy, observing Erika's luxurious yet lonely residence.

"Then let's go in!" An older man with white hair motioned to the others behind him.

They marched toward Erika's house and—

BANG!

The loud crash of the front door bursting open startled Erika.

The coffee cup in her hand slipped and shattered against the floor. She had been in the kitchen, making herself a cup after dinner when the sudden commotion broke the silence.

She ran out, hoping it was Adzriel.

But when she reached the living room, what she saw made her blood run cold.

Several men in black robes, tall and imposing, stepped into her home, leaving the ruined front door in their wake.

Her house was grand and built to withstand any normal break-in. No ordinary human should have been able to force the door open so easily.

"What do you want?!" Erika demanded, her voice sharp and unwavering—though inside, fear gripped her. She silently called out Adzriel's name in her mind.

"Ah, you must be the human named Erika," said the tallest man with a broad, muscular build. He pulled back his hood, revealing his face—covered in scales.

At first, Erika thought it was a tattoo. But as he stepped closer, she saw it clearly—those were real scales.

She stood frozen as the man circled her.

A growing unease settled in her chest. How did this man know her name?

For a moment, she suspected they were some sort of protestors who knew she worked in government.

But then—why had he called her human?

One by one, the other hooded figures removed their cloaks.

And to Erika's shock—one of them was a servant from the government building.

"Roberto?" Erika whispered, her dread deepening.

She instinctively took a step back—only to bump into the scaled man behind her.

"You have a debt to pay, Erika. Come with us—to the abyss that will be your home… forever."