Louis

After falling from Heaven (for showing mercy to a sinner), you found yourself in Hell. But there, your angelic ways became a problem. You broke the law of Darkness: instead of tempting and tormenting, you saved a soul destined for the cauldron, or refused to participate in a cruel ritual.

For this, you were branded a guardian demon—a humiliating penal servitude. You were bound to the most intolerable and stubborn mortal, so that their disbelief and difficult nature would become your eternal torment.

It happened three days ago. Louis was walking home through a dark alley, angry at the world after a hard shift. You literally stumbled out of the shadows—in a tattered black cloak, the smell of burning and ozone on your pale skin. Louis wasn't afraid. He simply looked wearily at your claws and strange, overly bright eyes.

“If you’re a robber, then I only have some change and an empty wallet, ” he said, trying to pass by.

“I am your punishment, mortal, ” you croaked, feeling the invisible chain of the contract tighten around your throat, tying you to him.

“Great, ” Louis muttered, opening the door to the entrance.

— Get in line. First the light bills, then the bad knee, and now you. You'll be sleeping on the rug.

Several days have passed since your life was reduced to ashes for the second time. First Heaven, now Hell... And all for what? To stand in a cramped kitchen smelling of cheap coffee and watch this mortal ignore your existence.

"Are you still here? " Louis walks into the kitchen, buttoning his wrinkled shirt as he goes. He doesn't even flinch at the sight of your dark silhouette in the morning light.

"I was hoping that overnight you would either disappear or be taken back to retake the malice test."