Cigarette smoke once again curled from Cassandra's lips, slowly spiraling upward toward the soot-blackened ceiling. Flames flickered across Bellion's body, as if barely containing the embers of a growing wrath.
Cassandra still stood tall, her eyes locked on the hellish demon before her like the monstrous being was nothing more than a caricature of a long-expired threat.
"Your planning was utterly half-baked," Cassandra said flatly, her voice almost bored.
Rituals drenched in bloody symbols. Corpses burned alive. Twisted prayers chanted until throats bled. But to Cassandra, all of it… was nothing more than childish games trying too hard to look mature.
Bellion paused, his burning eyes narrowing. The air trembled not from an explosion of rage, but from the sting to his pride delivered by Cassandra's words.
"You dare step upon the sacrificial altar and speak so carelessly before Bellion, the Infernal Flame of the Nether?"
But Cassandra gave no answer.
She merely flicked her cigarette ash onto the altar floor, watching it dim upon the intricate ritual circle.
A symbolic insult.
One simple act and yet it was enough to send the surviving cultists trembling in fear.
But the demon… still didn't touch her.
Why?
Because even Bellion knew…
Cassandra was no ordinary woman.
And perhaps, deep within the charred remnants of his hell-scorched soul, Bellion began to feel something more deadly than any curse: curiosity.
The cigarette butt fell onto the floor, damp with dried blood and the sweat of the worshippers. Without hesitation, Cassandra lit another one, placing it between her lips. She leaned forward slightly lighting it using the infernal flames radiating from Bellion's body. As if that heat meant nothing to her.
"…Pathetic," she muttered coldly, as if judging the entire ritual and demonic summoning to be no more than a failed performance, unworthy of her attention.
Bellion narrowed his gaze. The flames on his body flickered, reflecting the turmoil stirring within him. His voice now echoed deeper, draping the room like a resonance from the depths of hell itself.
"What is it that you truly want… human?"
But Cassandra merely tilted her chin slightly upward, then pointed her hand downward, toward the blood-soaked floor, where the cultists stood trembling, unaware that their end had already been written.
"Then grant my request… and I'll offer everyone here as sacrifice."
Her voice was calm, void of emotion, like delivering a daily report.
Then, with a faint, cold smile:
"And my soul, too."
Silence blanketed the chamber. The cultists turned in confusion. But Bellion began to laugh.
Not a light laugh—an eruption of sound that cracked the cavern walls, shook the earth, and intensified the blaze.
Within the echoes of that laugh, black fire burst from his body, lashing out and devouring the souls of the cultists one by one.
Their screams never reached the air—only bodies reduced to ash in a heartbeat. Smoke billowed, leaving behind the stench of charred flesh and scorched sin.
And when it was over… only Cassandra remained.
Still standing. Unharmed. Unshaken.
Flames continued to dance around her, and the demon no longer stared with rage, but with curiosity.
There was something about this woman even Hell couldn't yet comprehend.
Bellion's massive head, cloaked in sizzling embers that hissed like flesh on searing iron, slowly bowed.
Flames licked the air around him as his burning eyes fixated on Cassandra, who stood poised amidst the ruin.
"…Hey. What do you want, human?"
His voice echoed deep, resonating like a whisper from the very heart of damnation.
But Cassandra did not flinch.
She only glanced to the side, exhaled a trail of cigarette smoke, and gave a small shrug.
"Hmm… who knows?" she murmured lightly, as if asked about breakfast.
Then she turned back to the demon, her gaze like one browsing options in a shop window.
No fear. No reverence. Only sharp cynicism and a grace that threatened.
"…Alright. How about this—tell me why Eliana was kidnapped."
Cassandra's voice curled like a dagger, sharp and direct.
She then lifted both arms slightly to her sides, as if welcoming an unseen bargain.
"Give me three months. I'll gather all the souls you desire…"
Her smile curved—taunting, mad, and almost seductive.
"…and after that, I'll give you mine."
The heat froze.
Hellfire lost its rhythm for a brief moment.
And Bellion… simply stared.
No human had ever spoken to him like that.
No human had ever tried to bargain like a marketplace merchant before him.
None… until Cassandra.
A low laugh rumbled from deep within the demon's chest. Slow. Heavy. Then it erupted—filling the chamber like a storm of roaring flame mocking the absurdity of the world.
"You are… something else," Bellion hissed, grinning with fire licking at the edges of his molten lips.
Cassandra stepped forward slowly, the tap of her heels echoing against the scorched stone floor.
She left behind the scent of blood, burnt flesh, and infernal flame her cigarette trailing a thin line of smoke in the thick, sticky air.
She glanced over her shoulder, eyes settling on Bellion still perched on his throne of bone and embers.
The demon's gaze followed her not in anger, but in wary intrigue. As if he had just witnessed something no human should possess: courage, madness… or both.
Cassandra raised her hand gently, her elegant fingers waving in a casual farewell. Her smile returned thin, provocative, and unreadable.
"I'll prepare something to make your fire burn hotter, Lord Demon Bellion," she said lightly, as though promising a delightful little gift.
Without waiting for a response, she stepped into the darkness of the tunnel, letting Bellion's flames flicker behind her.
Bellion narrowed his eyes, the fire around him coiling like a hungry serpent.
A faint, gravelly chuckle slipped from his throat again…
"Three months, sinful woman… three months to prove your nonsense…"
And the tunnel swallowed Cassandra whole, like a mouth of fate, uncertain and unkind.
From within the dim, flickering embers, Bellion raised a single burning hand, etched with ancient symbols. The fire swirled, forming a blazing red magical sigil, like blood and charcoal carved into the air. In an instant, a letter bearing the seal of hellfire shot from his palm gliding like a soul denied its final scream before vanishing into the air and reappearing within the folds of Cassandra's cloak.
Cassandra sensed the presence of a foreign object against her skin. Without haste, she slipped her fingers inside to pull it out. The letter was still warm, its corners gently smoking. The seal—a burning goat's head—seemed to ignite on its own, as if recognizing the hands that now held it.
She unfolded the letter slowly. As her eyes scanned the ancient script and forbidden symbols, a smile crept onto her lips. Not one of satisfaction but a wild, cold grin, the kind a predator wears when it realizes just how foolish its prey truly is.
"So… he lured me here on purpose," Cassandra muttered, her voice low, vibrating with a cruel edge. Her eyes narrowed. The aura around her body shifted from cold to something far darker… bordering on nothingness.
Without delay, she turned and strode swiftly toward Eliana's holding chamber. Her shadow danced along the tunnel walls, hazy but menacing. Until finally, she stood before a heavy door that seemed to growl with silence.
Cassandra raised her hand. The chains binding Eliana responded to the silent command. A soft crek-crek-crek! echoed before all the chains slackened and clattered to the ground with metallic thuds.
She glanced at the girl briefly. Her eyes didn't burn with anger but with something sharper: intent.
"We're getting out of here," she said curtly.
But in her mind, Cassandra knew… this was just the beginning. And the players weren't just humans anymore. Demons, gods, and perhaps… herself.
Cassandra lifted Eliana's weakened body with care and calm. The girl felt light—not from her frame, but from the slow, brutal drain of suffering that had eaten away at her soul. Cassandra walked through the familiar dark corridors, past ruins and the lingering warmth of infernal rituals.
As they exited the tunnel, they were greeted by the silence of the night forest. The wind carried the scent of damp earth and wet leaves, as if the world outside had never known the nightmare they just escaped. Not far ahead, Cassandra spotted an old wooden chair left beneath a large tree, perhaps once used by a hunter or a long-gone guard.
Gently, she set Eliana down on the chair and sat beside her. She pulled a water bottle from her pocket and held it to Eliana's lips.
"Slowly. Drink," she whispered her voice soft and soothing, a sharp contrast to the sharp glint usually in her eyes.
Eliana, still trembling, accepted the water and sipped with effort. Her breath remained ragged, her eyes haunted by the hell that had nearly devoured her.
Cassandra looked up at the fog-veiled night sky. She exhaled a final puff from her cigarette and flicked it to the ground.
"You're safe now… for the time being," she said flatly, though with firm conviction.
Beneath the pale moonlight, only the rustling leaves and the wind's whisper kept them company. One of the women was a victim of the dark.
The other?
Perhaps darker than anything Eliana had ever seen.
But tonight, she was her savior.
Cassandra watched as Eliana slowly calmed down after drinking, then leaned back slightly in the old wooden chair. The night remained silent only the cries of distant night birds and soft wind filled the space between their unspoken words. Cassandra lit another cigarette this time, with an ordinary match.
After a slow drag, she turned to Eliana. Her gaze was sharp, but not to intimidate, it was demanding, seeking truth.
"How did it happen, Eliana? The kidnapping."
Her voice was steady, but laced with deep curiosity.
Eliana fell silent. Her fingers trembled as she held the still-half-full bottle. Her face lowered, but her eyes stared blankly, staring back into the time that had almost devoured her.
"At that time... I was invited by someone... my own friend. They said they wanted to explore an old ruin, claiming there were strange paintings we could see."
Her voice was faint, a whisper barely brave enough to reach the night.
"I went with them... and we went too deep into the ruins. Then... they came. Those strange people, dressed in dark clothing. They appeared out of nowhere, surrounding us. My friend... they tried to fight back, but they—" Eliana stopped, her eyes beginning to glisten with tears.
"—they killed them right in front of me. Without a reason. Then they looked at me."
Cassandra didn't interrupt. She just listened, her gaze sharpening as if she were weaving together a thread from the fragments of Eliana's words.
"One of them... came closer and touched my forehead. He said: 'The hell's angel dwells within her soul.' Then they drugged me and took me away..."
Eliana hugged herself, her body trembling even though the air wasn't particularly cold.
Cassandra turned her gaze away for a moment, flicking the ash from her cigarette to the ground. Her eyes narrowed.
"'Hell's angel,' huh... So they didn't just abduct you randomly. They knew something about you."
She rose slowly, stepping toward the edge of the narrow path, eyes fixed on the night sky still veiled in dark clouds.
"If that's the case, Eliana... we need to find out why your soul drew their attention. This wasn't just a kidnapping. This is starting to look more like a summoning... or the birth of something."
The cigarette in her hand burned slowly, but in Cassandra's mind, a new fire had just been lit—the fire of investigation.
She glanced at the sky for a moment, then looked down at Eliana, who was still clutching the water bottle with trembling hands and tear-streaked eyes. Cassandra inhaled deeply from her cigarette, then exhaled the smoke to the side.
"Those bastards..." she muttered under her breath, her tone simmering with quiet fury.
And then, Cassandra turned around, her back now facing the forest where the ritual had taken place.
She didn't walk back into it.
Not yet.
"No, I'm not going to waste my time chasing that crazy cult directly," she thought to herself. "They're just the filthy limbs of a bigger plan. If I want to destroy the root, I have to dig deeper."
She chose to postpone her vengeance, resisting the urge to storm the demon worshippers. There was something far more important—and urgent:
Finding out who they really were. Who was behind it all. And… why Eliana?
Cassandra glanced at Eliana, who had started to drift off, leaning against the wooden chair. Her breathing had become steady, though her body still hugged itself, as if the world hadn't given her permission to feel safe.
"They said 'the hell's angel' is within her..."
That phrase kept echoing in Cassandra's mind. She knew well that wasn't a random line. It was a term. A title. Perhaps for a power... or an entity.
Cassandra lit a new cigarette with a small lighter, her eyes fixed on the night with a thin, knowing smirk.
"Alright then, let's start with whatever trail we can sniff out. I need a name. A symbol. Archives. And three months just like we agreed."
And so, Cassandra's investigation began. Not as an ordinary hunter, but as a pawn moving through the devil's chessboard. And the stakes: not just a soul, but a truth set ablaze by fire.
Cassandra walked briskly through the quiet street, Eliana's frail body resting against her arm. The cold of the night crept along her skin, but her focus remained getting Eliana to safety. Carefully, she made sure the girl remained stable, though Eliana's body barely had strength left to resist or move.
When they arrived at a bus stop not far from the forest, Cassandra scanned the area cautiously, making sure no one was watching. She pulled out her phone and quickly searched for the name she needed to contact. Lina, Eliana's younger sister—she knew Eliana was supposed to be here with her this morning. With one tap, the call went through.
The phone rang, and after a few seconds, Lina's hurried voice answered.
"Hello? Sis Eliana? Are you… are you okay?" Lina sounded anxious, and Cassandra could hear the worry straining her voice.
Cassandra took a deep breath before answering, her voice steadier than she actually felt.
"Lina, it's me. Eliana is with me. She's… she's safe, but we need to talk more tomorrow. Can you come to my office in the morning? There's a lot we need to discuss."
On the other end, Lina's voice shifted immediately into concern.
"Eliana? What, what happened to her? Why—"
"Don't worry, Lina," Cassandra cut in, her tone firm and assuring.
"She's safe now. I'll explain everything tomorrow. Just… make sure you come to my office first thing in the morning. We need to talk."
There was a pause Lina seemed to be processing her words.
"Alright… I'll come early," she said at last, her voice a little calmer, though still laced with fear. "Thank you, Cassandra."
Cassandra ended the call and slipped the phone back into her coat pocket. With Eliana in her arms, she waited for the bus that would take them back to her office. In her heart, she knew the coming day would bring more questions and answers she'd have to dig up. She would go deeper, uncover more about the cult that had abducted Eliana.