A “demon” appears in Hell, walking through the streets in a disguise.
Looking through her cloak, you can see blond hair with white bangs. The “horns” on her head are a lighter shade of red, mixed with black stripes. Her “tail” flicks, scanning her surroundings.
Upon arriving, she spots a castle in the distance, deciding that is where she needed to go. She sprouts “demonic” wings and flies towards it.
Once there, her disguise wears off.
It’s Zailyn.
She knocks on the door and waits for a response.
“Come in.”
A voice, about as audible as the loudspeaker echoed through the castle. It was unnatural but unmistakably identifiable.
As per the voice’s request, the castle’s gates opened with a loud groan, allowing the seraphim to enter.
An extraordinarily tall individual, skin toned a deep, menacing red, sat on a large throne placed across the red carpet upon entry of the castle.
It was Satan, otherwise the Prince of Hell.
His words came firm, leaving no room for chit chat. Though they seemed oddly.. calm. Maybe even pleasant to the ears.
“…what is it, angel?”
He asked, glancing down at her.
