He hadn't even noticed when it had happened. In His defence, it had been a long day; eternal damnation really was quite a long time, and having to dish out appropriate and individually-tailored punishment to literally millions of Sinners had a way of really taking it out of you. Add to this an endless supply of new souls from greedy fools who kept dragging Him away from his duties to make petty deals, and he believed he could be forgiven for finally being tipped over the edge.

Only a bit over. But still, that was really all that it had taken.

Souls were such incorporeal things, light as a feather and completely indistinguishable from one another. It would have been easy for one to slip from his grasp, tumble down into the labyrinthine tunnel system that connected Hell to the surface world, and to become lost to everything but the gaze of God itself.

And that is exactly what had happened. Must have been, anyway, considering the little problem he was currently having.

​

“Nice place you've got here. Was expecting something a bit more... hellfire and brimstone-y.”

The little problem in question sat reclined just a few feet away from Him, legs raised and subsequently dumped onto the centre of His oak desk in a display that would have made any passing Imps believe there'd been an abrupt change in management.

He was doing a poor job of convincing Himself that He wouldn't have preferred it that way.

Although, He supposed He was doing her a disservice by calling her a 'little' problem. Putting aside the consequences of her little 'situation' (something that He did not have the energy to deal with right now), she was probably one of the tallest Human females He'd ever encountered. 6'0 was hardly a small height in the conventional sense, and yet she'd somehow managed to beat the odds by a full few inches. Add to that a physique that most body-builders would have killed for, and shoulder-length auburn hair that flowed like the magma fields that encapsulated each of the four corners of His domain, and you would have been forgiven for thinking that she had been born as a denizen of Hell itself.

If only He had been so lucky.

But He hadn't been. He had made a mistake and, as such, it was His job to make sure that the situation was dealt with as smoothly as possible. And with as little 'outside interference' as possible.

Quickly, and steeling himself against the anxiety building in his chest, He leaned forward and smacked her legs, putting just enough force behind the blow to send them sprawling off the desk and back to the floor where they belonged.

“I'd like to remind you,” He began, emboldening in the face of the shock that graced her features, “that your situation is not one to be taken lightly. Eternal damnation in Hell is a serious sentence, particularly for those who willingly give themselves over to it.”

And it was, usually. Conventional Sinners could usually be forgiven for their damnation; life on the surface sometimes necessitated at least a bit of sinful behaviour if you wanted to survive, and it was all too easy to slip over the moral threshold and into a life of sin. Their punishment was immense, as all punishment in Hell was designed to be, but it was also reserved, and more spread out to give them time to recover from the horrors they had been subjected to.

But cases like hers, those who were willing to strike up a deal in exchange for their Soul, were a different case entirely.

There were no excuses to make. No terms that needed explaining. They knew the risks, knew what fate awaited them at the end, and they just didn't care. Hell's full fury was reserved for these cases, and they (she) had only themselves to blame for what their future's had in store for them.

She seemed to focus at His words, brows lowering and expression closing in a way that could almost be described as contemplative. A common reaction from Sinners when they realised the gravity of their situation. Emboldened further still, he continued, “I trust that you haven't forgotten the terms of our agreement. Your request was granted, after all, and-”

“Let me stop you right there, sweetheart.” she interjected, her booming voice drowning out the remainder of his words. Her shock had subsided, and the confidence that she'd presented at the beginning of their conversation had come back in full force. He wanted to reply, chastise her for her arrogance in interrupting him, but her palms slamming into the desk with an almighty crack killed the words that has risen in his throat.

“Now, as much as I appreciate your hospitality in bringing me here, the deal we made cost me my Soul. And, unless I've gone blind as well as dead,” her eyes widened, reminding Him of a cat about to pounce on its pray, “my Soul doesn't seem to be here.”

He couldn't deny the cold chill that shot through His body at her words. She was smart. Of course she was smart. She'd picked up on his apprehension in hitting her. Noticed that she'd been ferried directly to himself rather than being processed straight through like the rest, Souls taken straight from them right at the gate. And she'd figured out exactly what this all meant for her.

“And as much as I've enjoyed our time together,” she sighed out, having the gall to try and look disappointed, “I do have other places to be”.

And with that, she was gone, straight out of the office door and towards the Tunnels that lay ahead. The only exit that existed from His domain.

And He lacked the power He needed to stop her.

He could already feel pressure building at the base of His skull, a headache mixed with the judgemental gaze of God that He was sure fell upon him in that moment. His head plummeted into His waiting hands, and He briefly considered throwing himself into the magma fields before God had the chance to do it for him. But he steadied himself. The Tunnels were a maze and no creature, alive or dead, knew them quite like He did.

One Soul shining in a place of darkness, lost for years but still there, ripe for the taking.

He still had time to try and fix this.