She tried so hard to be happy, but the darkness consumed her. It gobbled her up until she was so fond of this evil that she dare call it company. Everyone was going to leave her eventually, so she sold her soul to the devil and signed her name in blood. Lucifer himself gripped her wrist and carved his name upon her frail skin. Her dress was stained with fear and her mind was splattered with emptiness. She found comfort in the malicious nature of human beings and creatures alike. She lay in her bed at night feeling incredibly numb; but not insane, not anymore. The only way she knew she was still alive was to take the blade and dig it into her skin, as the crimson poured down she knew that her heart was still beating even though she felt so dead inside. It wasn't long before hurting herself stopped making her feel any better. She consulted the devil and he provided her with a solution. She was to kill for him and if she did this then he would reward her with the occasional bout of happiness. Naturally she took the deal, she would do anything to wear a genuine smile upon her severely haggard face. Her first victim was to be the man who caused her pain beyond compare: her father. She wanted to see him suffer. She needed him to feel the disgusting pain and guilt that he fed to her day in and day out. His eyelids were sliced off so no matter what he did he was forced to watch the life drain from his body. The last thing he saw was his little girl covered in blood, such anger in her eyes, slicing off his fingers one by one and ripping his heart right from his chest. It invigorated her to know just how much power she had in that moment, it was perfect. She brought poor Daddy's heart to the underworld and handed it to the man in charge. He sneered, patted her on the head, and congratulated her. The Angel of the bottomless pit was proud of this once incompetent child. He was her father now and she was eternally grateful. The power that was instilled in her on the night of her first kill, that was the happiness she had so longed for. She killed countless people, people that were once so close to her but alienated her when she needed them most. The Antichrist did for her what she couldn't do for herself, he saved her. It's too bad that in the end she became a slave to the Father of lies. She meant nothing to him when all along he meant the world to her. She was now a toy that sat on an isolated shelf, collecting dust because the tempter found a new toy to play with. She realized that it was too late for her, she was merely a lost cause. She rotted on that shelf, slowly decomposing day by day. She died powerless, hollow, and sinister.