Chapter One

Sing like you think no ones listening

"You shouldn't wear your skirt so tight, it makes you look like a cheap mortal prostitue."

"Oh shut it Spence. No one asked you what I looked like. And how am I supposed to bring guys into hell if I dress like a nun? Answer me that one." I leaned down closer to the mirror and applied more of the thick eye goo that mortals called makeup. If it wasn't for my job as a human harvester then I would never wear the stuff. It smelt funny as it felt like a dog had licked my face and made me look like a cheap circus clown. I turned back away from the mirror and watched Spencer play with his chiped black nails. On my fingers were fake french manicured nails that I was literally itching to get off.

"Guys like a challenge you know, I might be immortal, but I think the same."

"Hun, I doubt that everything is the same between a human and you." As I got up from my chair and started towards the door I gave Spence one last look. I just couldn't admit how much I liked him, but that's beside the point. I'm on a mission here in hell, I have to bring the guys in. The devil isn't an easy boss either, if I don't get my missions done on time then its hell to pay. It's not a pretty sight.

"Have fun Loki."

"I gurantee you that I will." With a snap of my fingers I was out of hell and sitting in the living room of a high school house party. Next to me were a few girls sitting on the edge nervously sipping drinks and in front of me was a group of teenage boys chugging down beer. I smoothed out my tight mini skirt and adjusted my spiked heels before stepping right into the mass of boys.

"Hi, I'm Lori."

"Hey babe." Maybe this time I could get at least five boys this time, but it seemed that maybe these didn't need my little push towards hell. I laughed at all the boys stupid jokes and rested my hand on their shoulder when they were talking to me individually. This was my job, but the whole time I was ticking off the time of my head half heartedly involving myself in the conversations. Jello shot after jell shot was downed by me and the boys, but since I'm immortal it had no effect on me. The boys, on the other hand, were piss drunk by the time we started out of the party and to one of their houses. As the boys stumbled down the street I diligently ticked away on my blackberry to say that the mission would soon be done and ask for the last touch. The last touch was the devil's final signing of the contract. All I had to get the guys to do was something completely immoral such as attack me, take advantage of me or something to that effect. And when they did a red x would appear on their hand and I would be able to dissapear. It was as if I never exsisted, completely erased from their memories of the night, but the mark would stay forever. That is, forever until they died. And upon arrival they would be sent straight to where I live. Of course, in all my time working in hell I've only had one client recognize me and that ended in one of his arms becoming broken.

"Hey, why don't you change into something a little more comfortable." Here it was coming, I needed to play the roll well, lead him on and then pull out at the last second, crying "no!".

"Oh yeah." I stood on the couch and started to fumble with my tight sweater and threw it on the floor, swinging my hips stripper style. The boys hooted and cried for more, which I oblidged, but when one of them grabbed me and shoved me hard back down on the couch I acted scared. Of course, the last thing I'm afraid of is some stupid high school football player. When another boy held me down as the other tried to pull off my skirt I knew I could cry and the mark would be there. As loud as I could possibley handle I cried and screamed, causing the boys right hands to glow red. I was gone in a flash and my sweater was back firmly on, my fly zipped again. Yeah, it was my job, but whoever said it wasn't sick. Like I said the devil is a strange boss. My blackberry flashed with a confirmation that I had bagged all six boys. I smiled in contempt and flopped onto the black silk sheets of my twin bed. When my hand flicked the stereo turned on and blasted "Hawthorne Heights."

"Nice music." I looked up lazily at Spencer who was leaning on the frame of my door. His blue hair shined in the light of one of my rooms many fire pits.

"Thanks."

"Anytime." Spencer lingered at my door for a few minutes watching me throw my stilletos in my closet and change my clothes with a snap of my fingers. "Goodnight Loki."

"Goodnight Spencer." With a sigh and an empty heart I tucked myself into bed and draped my room in darkness. But I kept my eyes open and stared at the wall, secretly hoping that one day Spencer would be sleeping in this bed with me.

(Author Note: Hope you like this, I got the idea after watching Dogma. Just to note, Alan Rickman is soooo utterly hot. Anyway, I digress, I'm not sure if I'll continue this, but if I get loads of lovely reviews I'll consider it. LOL. If I get reviews I'll do it.)