Author's note: This is a rather old one that I only just got to editing.

Dedicated in the loving memory of my great-grandma.

A dust devil whirls around the small form of a pale girl. Everything in its whirring column, grass, tan bark, sand, leaves, newspapers, bounce off her body like rubber balls. The wind whistles loudly in her ears, whispering words that only she can understand. Her arms do not hug her body, instead they are out stretched as if she is controlling the violent wind. Her pigtails sway like a ship in the middle of a storm.

The wind suddenly drops and disappears. The girl shakes off the debris in her maroon hair, and she opens her tightly shut eyes. They are a startling color of red, like the blood draining from a freshly dead body. The girl skips down a hill, pigtails swaying from side to side. A group of kids wait below and one of them asks, "What happened?"

In a voice slightly too deep for a girl, she says cheerfully, "I was getting orders from my master!"

"Master? Yeah right, Bee. What kind of master is that?"

Bee replies, not loosing her cheer, "Sorry, I've got to go!"

She moves away from human activity and draws a circle in the air. Blue and black fire follows her fingers, and she leaps through.

A hallway of flickering shadows and a constant red glow beckons. Bee bursts into a dimly lit room where a large, black throne decorated with dark carvings is waiting. It emits a slight eerie purple glow and is set with deep-red rubies. Bee dashes in with a yell of, "Daaaadddddyyyy!"

She jumps and lands in the lap of a pale man with shiny black shoulder-length hair and blood-red eyes. His mouth is in a grim smile, which immediately flips into a frown upon the entrance of the girl.

In an angry bass tone, he says irritably, "Beezlma, I told you not to call me that. I am not your father. Now get off me."

"Aww, do I have to?"

"Get off me, now."

With a sigh, she slides off his lap, only to give him a hug. The man's eyes narrow, annoyance expressed on every inch of his face.

A servant, a red man wearing dark clothing enters the room, "My Lord, there is some business that needs your attention…"

"Not them again? Is their job to annoy me or something?"

The man rises from his dark throne, his tall figure dominating the room. He growls, "Those clergymen bring me nothing but trouble."

He glances at Bee and orders in a firm voice, "Go to your room, there are some packages that need delivering."

He strides down the room, skin reddening to the color of blood.

Bee plops down on the throne the man had occupied a moment ago. She settles comfortably and closes her eyes. The servant present clears his throat and states carefully, "Erm, Beezlma, I believe his majesty had a task for you?"

She responds to him with a loud, rude raspberry. The servant ignores her rude reply, bows, and exits the room. Bee lounges in the chair for a few minutes, then jumps to her feet and leaves the room.

She runs though a narrow hallway, colliding into and scattering the servants in her wake. After a final turn, Bee approaches a door that is set with many bright, shimmering stones. The silver door handle hides its true color in a tarnished gray. Bee turns the handle and enters.

The room is bright and glowing, although there are no lighting apparatuses. The walls are painted a lush color of red. In one corner there is a large bed with a deep blue head-board. Neatly placed on the mattress is a thick, black blanket made of the softest velvet. Thrown on top are various stuffed animals. Across from the bed is a large, neat, purple table with a stack of awkward, pearly white envelopes. Bee changes into her messenger clothing, a red shirt with dark red pants and a long black coat. She grabs the stack and checks the addresses. She murmurs quietly and draws a circle in the air with her index and middle fingers. Once the circle is completed, the circumference alights with brown fire; she steps through, returning to Earth.

She deeply inhales the fresh air and skips up to a house. It's small, and nothing looks out of the ordinary. She approaches the door and knocks loudly. A gruff voice growls, "Who's there?"

She responds with cheer rolling off her in waves, "A messenger!"

The door opens slightly and Bee gives the man his orders. He slams the door tight and Bee calls, "Don't forget to burn it!"

She waves at the house and teleports to the next. She delivers her package there, and continues on.

Her last stop is by the ocean. Her red eyes watch the peaceful ocean, the waves mere ripples on the surface. A mischievous smile erupts. After delivering the envelope, she goes to the public bathroom and changing room. There, she quickly teleports to her room, sheds her clothing and puts on a bathing suit. Before leaving, she grabs a small cloth bag. Bee teleports back to the bathroom, flings the door open, and gallops to the ocean. She sloshes through the shallows and dives into the frigid water. A playful hum buzzes Bee's mouth as she swims around the crowds of people cooling off. She dives to the sandy bottom and places shells into the bag, the salt strangely not irritating her eyes. The water breaks as her head resurfaces, her lungs smoothly taking a breath.

She swims back to shore, her pigtails more red from getting wet, and dripping like a leaking faucet. Bee grins widely, catches a drop of seawater in the palm of her hand and plucks a single hair from her head. She murmurs quietly and tips her hand. The droplet slides off her hand and falls to the ocean. The hair swirls in the water, pulls forward and retreats. Upon reaching deeper water, the hair dissipates.

Suddenly mountainous waves roll to shore and slam into the people swimming. Bee laughs lightly as the people desperately try to reach the shore.

With a twinkle in her eye, she skips back to the bathroom and inside the stall and teleports back to her room.

Her master, the dark man from earlier, is sitting on her bed with his arms crossed. He grows menacingly, a deep frown on his face, "Beezlma, what do you think you're doing? Teleporting here and there, it's irritating me!"
Bee smiles cheerfully and exclaims, "I was at the beach!"

Her master's eyes narrow to mere slits. He rises from the bed. His tall figure loomed over Bee for a moment, irritation burning in his eyes. After a few moments, he sweeps out of the room, leaving behind the strong odor of brimstone. A quiet shudder ripples through Bee, her master's anger not something she wishes to see.

She removes the soaking bathing suit. It makes a loud, rude, sucking sound as it peels away from her skin. With nimble and quick fingers, she unties her hair bands, her wet hair falling to her shoulders like limp snakes. She wraps a robe around herself and goes to her bath, which is adjacent to her room.

She removes the soft robe and cannonballs into the steaming, gigantic swimming-pool-like bathtub. Her hair spreads out over the surface of the water, the tips intertwining as she glides across the surface, washing salt and grime off her.

Bee snatches the seashells from the edge and arranges them on the bottom of the tub. The confined space becomes an underwater wonderland were ebony seals with burning eyes played hide-and-seek with her. Cat-like sharks attempted to beat her in races around the tub. She eventually swims back up to the surface, the falling water forming a halo around her head.

She grabs some shampoo and tips her head underwater. She lathers the soap into her hair and dunks it underwater, rinsing it off. Grabbing a towel, Bee hops out, shakes her head like a dog and goes back to her room.

Bee quickly dresses and ties her hair into two pigtails. She sneaks out of her room and into a corridor. On tiptoe, she quietly progresses forward. When a servant strolls by, she ducks into a corner and holds her breath. Like a snake, she slithers in the obscure corridors, attempting to be invisible.

With her back against the wall, she slides toward a partially hidden door. Bee grasps the handle and the door swings wide. Inside, a wide assortment of meats hang from the ceiling. Corpses of bright, fresh meat, dripping with blood glisten in the room's dim light.

Bee takes her knife and slices a paper-thin sheet of meat off a carcass. The meat is stuffed into the girl's mouth; she chews it contentedly, molars working on the meat like a child chewing on gummy candy. Her lips spread into a smile, her usually pure-white teeth decorated in droplets of red.

Bee weaves through the carcasses and finds a long, thin body, and hacks into one of the limbs with a large butcher knife. It flops to the floor, the dried meat hanging loosely to the bones. She picks it up, stroking the smooth texture of the muscle. Clutching it, she slips out of the room, and runs down the empty hallway, her scampering steps loudly echoing.

A titanium door looms, the shiny surface gleaming and pulsating, giving a warning. With a flick of her hand, the door unlocks and creaking loudly, it swings inward. A loud giggle escapes from Bee's mouth, only to be quickly muffled by her hand.

A low growl bounces off the walls. Shining red fire eyes glow in the darkness of the room, pupils small and cat-like. Another growl, louder and more menacing, resounds in the room. The quiet pat of paws slowly sneaks forward from the darkness of the room. A beast darker then night emerges. Long shark teeth are clamped together, lips withdrawn in a snarl. The fire in its eyes glowing ember hot, not trusting and weary.

Bee smiles and kneels down, extending her hand in greeting. The beast pads to her, carefully sniffing her hand. The beast howls happily and knocks Bee over, its violet tongue licking her face. Other beasts emerge from the darkness, comforted by the happy slobbering noises. Some of the beasts are taller and more menacing, others are small and frolicking. After receiving many endearing licks, Bee cheerfully exclaims, "I brought all of you a treat! Be sure to eat it quickly!"

Bee tosses the limb to the eager beasts, which respond by attacking it; teeth sink into the arm and tear sizable chunks from it, spraying meat scraps in all directions. Bee watches them with a grin.

Suddenly, an angry, sharp voice scolds, "Beezlma, how many times do have I told you to not feed the hellhounds human meat!"

"Oopsies," Bee giggles.

The speaker's red skin is flushed a dark crimson in anger. The Keeper of the Hellhounds looks at Bee sharply, and sighs.

An evil laugh escapes from Bee's lips and the hounds join with a chorus of howls. With a final wave, Bee leaves the chamber, making promises to the hellhounds to visit once again. She races through the dark hallways, causing the servants to scatter in her wake. Returning to her room, Bee finds a maid awaiting her.

The maid, her beautiful face annoyed, exclaims, "Come along, Beezlma, the master requested that you dine with him today. You're already late!"

Bee willingly allows the maid to undress her. A deep purple dress that rustles gently is pulled over Bee's head. Along the collar and cuffs of the sleeves are blazing blue stones. Her pigtails are undone, long hair resting on her slim shoulders. A circlet of bleeding purple and opaque blue stones adorns her head. The little girl is transformed by this finery, in her imagination she is no longer a little girl but a powerful enchantress.

The maid leads Bee to the dining room, where the walls are the color of fire. A long, slender table fills the room. At the head the dark figure of Bee's master sits on a throne. His eyes hold her entrance with a cold indifference.

Bee nervously perches next to him, slipping hands underneath her thighs to prevent fidgeting.

Her master reaches to a delicately carved bell, made from a single ruby, and a single clear note tinkles from it. Two servants, professionally dressed in black, approach the table with two platters in hand. Bowing, they remove the silver covers and two meats stare at their to-be consumers. With a hesitant glance, Bee reaches for her fork and knife, waiting for her master to begin.

Her master grips his fork and knife, and delicately slices the meat. Bee follows his lead, her knife slashing the meat into jagged pieces. Bee pops a piece into her mouth. The flavor of meat fresh off a grill fills her mouth.

Her master suddenly asks, "So, what did you do today, Beezlma, apart from irritating me?"

Before Bee can respond, the doors of the dining room fling open. A transparent man barges in, white eyebrows furrowed. His face is covered in wrinkles and resting on his head is a pointy-cone shaped hat. He's wearing a long white dress with long sleeves and on top of that there is another, fancier, dress with out sleeves and a low neck. On his shoulders are two short capes, sewn into the collar. Around his neck, on a chain, is a bejeweled cross, which the man holds tightly between the fingers of his right hand.

He pulls the cross forward, like a shield, and booms in a loud voice, "I exorcise you from this place, Satan!"

Bee's master, Satan, closes his eyes and expels a deep and throaty laugh, dripping with evil. His hand goes to his brow as it continues. His blood red eyes become crimson as he opens them, cruel laughter still echoing in their depths.

Satan says jovially, "I presume that another Pope has died and discovered that he wasn't as pure as he thought he was."

The Pope's pale eyes glare at Satan, his searing gaze not affecting Satan in the least. The Pope's body trembled furiously, his entire form visibly vibrating. Satan gestures to the empty seat next to him and asks, "Why don't you join me for dinner? I can't kill you, since you're dead already."

"I will never eat at your table."

"That's a pity."

The pale white hand of Satan reaches forward and with a sharp wave, the Pope is pulled to the table by an invisible force. He slips and slides on floor, resisting. Transparent feet attempt to gain purchase upon the mahogany floor, in the end, he is crammed into a chair.

The Pope's frown deepens in annoyance and fear. His fingers begin stroking the cross around his neck and his eyes flickered around the room. The Pope nervously glances to Bee and tentatively questions, "Dear child, why are you here? Shouldn't you be in Heaven?"

Bee takes a sip from a clear glass filled with a red liquid. She drinks it with gusto and smiles at the Pope, her teeth bright red. The Pope sharply inhales and stares at her, his back pushing against the chair in surprise. A servant enters with food for him.

Satan replies lazily, "Beezlma belongs to me."

The Pope's mouth unhinges; his transparent body shivering at the prospect.

Satan and Bee return to their meal, the Pope doesn't touch his. Satan sends a hot glare, a quiet order for him to eat. . The Pope takes a small slice of meat and reluctantly nibbles on the meat. Bee giggles, steps out of her chair, takes the meat from the Pope's plate and jams it into the Pope's mouth.

"Hehe, look at his face turning red! You're food is going down the wrong pipe Mr. Pope! Hehe!" giggles Bee.

A smile creeps upon Satan's face and his dark laughter joins Bee's.

When the meat is completely consumed by Bee and Satan, servants come in with dessert, a thick slice of chocolate cake. Bee digs in, spraying brown crumbs everywhere, her plate the site of an explosion.

Satan's eyes quickly roll in annoyance at Bee's eagerness as he carefully ate his, not a crumb out of place. The Pope simply stares at it, unflinchingly. Bee giggles, "If you're not going to eat it, Mister Pope, I will!"

She grabs the Pope's slice and another explosion occurs upon her plate in the form of spraying crumbs. Satan rises from his chair and smoothly says, "I will expect you to deliver messages tomorrow, Beezlma."

He turns to leave, pauses, and adds, "And Pope, feel free to preach to your fellow dead kinsmen. However, you'll have some competition with the other dead Popes. So long and enjoy your stay."

With that said, Satan sweeps out of the room. Bee bounces out of her chair, sneaks behind the Pope, her tongue flicking out for a loud raspberry. Her small fingers pinch his transparent flesh, causing the old man to violently flinch. Bee ends her torture of the Pope by running to her room, her cruel giggles echo in the hall.

Once in her room, the maid stuffs Bee into her pajamas. Bee clambers onto the bed and jumps on the soft, cushioning springs. She lies down, allowing the maid to tuck her in.

The maid smoothes the sheets out and says, "Since you were a good girl, would you like to hear a story?"


"Which one?"
After a pause, Bee confidently decides, "The one of my creation."

"Very well."

The maid settles herself at the foot of the bed, while Bee props her head on her arm. The maid takes a deep breath and begins, "His Majesty Satan wanted someone to help him with affairs on earth, so that he doesn't always have to deal with them. For, us devils and demons cannot go onto the earth's surface. So he set out to make one. He took soft clay and made it into a shape much like his own, sadly, it didn't work. It fell apart quickly and didn't have any intelligence to speak of. He tried once again, this time out of metal. He tried many times with different things and some operated, but none had any intelligence. Finally, he took human components and carefully constructed a body. It looks human, except for the startling color of her hair and eyes, both of which are red. He breathed life into her.

"That was the first and only time I have seen His Majesty smile so much. For many days he taught this being how to live. It slowly developed a personality of its own, which completed the process of creation. At this moment, my Lord named this being after one of his incarnations on earth: Beezlma."

Bee had already fallen asleep, her head sunk on the pillow and eyes glued shut. The maid gently smiles to Bee's sleeping form and exits. She shuts the door behind her; the constant glow of the room recedes, becoming an inky blackness.

The next morning, Bee wakes up and stretches her arms, the glow in her room rapidly increasing. She slips from her bed and dresses, putting on her messenger uniform. On her desk is a pile of dirty white envelopes, patiently waiting to be delivered. It appears that her trouble making will have wait for later.

A stack of pancakes await her arrival in the dining room with a jug of crimson syrup nearby. She plops down in her seat and pours the thick red syrup onto her pancakes. It flows out, like water, but more dense. The pancakes are stained a vivid red.

Bee removes her hunting knife from her coat pocket. She uses its sharp edge to slice though the dense pancakes. She munches on the pieces while swinging her legs. The bright red color of the syrup rolls on the edge of the silver blade.

Once completely full, Bee slips out of her seat and teleports to earth. She happily skips along the streets, towards her destination.

Suddenly, she halts. To her right is a toy store; the cheerful toys peek out of the window, begging to be hugged. A little girl, no older then a five, is sitting on the floor, holding a toy.

The toy is in the shape of a cat, its glassy yellow eyes shine brightly in contrast to the black fur. The silver whiskers faintly reflect the light hitting them, while the black nose disappears. The ears are small triangles placed on top of the head, while a long tail comes from the rear. The yellow eyes plead for love. Bee's eyes soften at the sight of the cat; she steps forward, then stops. The little girl has her toy.

With a smile, Bee raises her fist. She opens her palm wide as if she is grabbing and object and slowly raises her arm. The plush cat levitates a few centimeters from the floor. Bee gestures for it to rise higher, and it responds.

Bee's middle finger and thumb come together in a loud snap, the cat's eyes blink, and two furry wings sprout from its back. The legs stretch forward and speed through the air. The little girl is crying loudly, while adults watch the cat with fright and amazement.

With a smirk, Bee motions the cat to "come here" and skips away. The plush cat zooms to the exit of the shop; trying to charge though the closed door. It bangs against the glass repeatedly, furious. Finally, the owner of the shop opens the door and the black cat flies after its new master.

The cat's black wings beat softly as it hovers over Bee's head. She grabs it from the air and slips in into her pocket.

Bee delivers her package and continues on to her next location. A hilly grassland looms. The dry grass sways peacefully, and Bee wickedly grins. She quickly delivers the package and runs to the nearest hill. The wind whistles in her ears, pigtails flying behind her like streamers. She slows to a jog and stops when she reaches the grass. Bee treads through it, rustling and crunching. The grass leans away from her, while animals scuttle away.

Bee's giggle echoes off the hills, creating a louder, more dangerous sound. Her crimson eyes gleam as she crouches. A pale white hand hovers over the tips of the grasses as she quietly murmurs words. Suddenly she leaps up, with her arms outstretched, and exclaims, "Hellfire!"

A black flame begins licking the grass, expanding and growing. It hungrily licks its chops and eats at it, devouring it like a beast. A ring of fire forms around Bee. She raises her arms and whispers again. The blaze smolders and shoots up, now orange. Bee leaps over the wall surrounding her, and runs, grinning.

Bee delivers the rest of her packages and teleports home. Once there, she trots out of the palace and out to the wide world of Hell.

She walks by the drab buildings, the harbors of human souls. The outside represents a sin. The homes of devils and demons are decorated in bright hues, bringing color into the otherwise dark city.

Bee hums as she skips along the streets, receiving surprised and amused glances. Exited whispers follow Bee, but she pays no heed.

She pauses in front of a small building; it has no engravings or markings. Bee strides inside and the devil at the desk, upon seeing Bee, he drops the paper, clears his throat and questions, "What may I do for you, Lady?"

"A Pope died recently. Where can I find him?"

After a few taps on the computer, he replies, "He's in "Pride" …building number five. He's currently enduring punishment. He should be back in about… five minutes."

"Hehe. Thanks!"

Before the man can say, "You're welcome," Bee has disappeared from the room, moving quickly. She slows and enters a building. Every corner seems to remind you what the sin is. In the center, a man with his head held high basks in glory. Bee hides behind a couch, her eyes barely peeking above it.

The Pope appears, dragging his feet dejectedly. Bee pounces on the Pope with a yell of, "Gotcha!"

The Pope topples forward with a yell and splatters on the ground. Bee sits on him as she would a bench. The Pope inquires, his voice muffled, "What has brought you here?"

Bee shrugs her shoulders, grinning. The Pope struggles to rise and Bee pushes him back down like a bully would. He rises once more and Bee slides off him, laughing cruelly at his angry face. He begins walking away when she grabs his sleeve, tugs on it, and asks, "Wanna play?"

He stops abruptly. He pauses to think for a moment, turns around, and says brightly, "Of course, child."

With a wave of her hand, a pack of cards appear. She swipes it from the air and exclaims, "War!"

She plops down on a chair while the Pope carefully sits down in the couch across from her. Dark black and red cards, depicting creatures instead of spades or hearts, fly back and fourth as Bee deal the cards.

They both shuffle their cards and begin. Bee slaps down a ten of hellhounds and the Pope slides over a nine of droplets. She scoops up the cards, grinning. Next, they both produce fives, and with an exclamation of "War," they place four cards face down, and flip the fourth one. Bee smiles sweetly as she takes her winnings.

Bee places a card with simply two devils. While the Pope swipes them away, she exclaims angrily, "No!"

The game continues on, the stockpile of cards shifting back and fourth from Bee to the Pope. The cards in Bee's hand become fewer while the Pope's become a fat pile. Some of the cards in Bee's hand appear to waver and change. Suddenly, the Pope has all of the cards in his hands, smiling.

Bee's eyes narrow, her irises appearing black. She flicks her wrist and the cards in the Pope's hand slip away. They hover over his head, waiting. Bee's hand flicks once again and the entire stack of cards rains down, scattering the cards. The Pope's transparent eyes glitter dangerously, but only for a moment.

Bee stomps out of the room, fire crackling in her eyes, the cute girl a monster. She turns to sweep out of the room, when the Pope says, "What is wrong, child? Are you angry?"

Bee turns to him, her eyes searing. She spits, her voice full of venom, "IT'S NOT FAIR, I ALWAYS LOOSE!"

"Would you like me to teach you how to win?"

"Can you?"
"Of course!"

The Pope deals out the cards patiently and says quietly, "You have great powers, and you should use them to your advantage. Now, take the top card, and imagine it as an ace."

Bee picks a card, a three of pikes. Bee concentrates, trying to visualize it as an ace. Part of the edge wavers. An "A" and the figure of a pike fuzzily emerges, only to fade away.

"Good, good. Try again"

She stares at the card, ordering it to change. The paper wavers once again; the ripples extend further until the card appears to be wiggling. It becomes less intense and the ripples withdraw. The card is half ace, half three.

Bee growls angrily and glares at it. It ripples once again, seeming to apologize, and the ace is completed.

Bee punches the air, a happy, mischievous twinkle in her eyes and a wide grin. She glances at the Pope and asks him shyly, "We're friends again, right?"


The doors burst open with a loud bang. A large four-legged figure sails through the air; fire eyes gleam and a long purple tongue lolls from a maw with jagged teeth. The front paws of the hellhound smack the chair that Bee is sitting in; it topples over, spilling Bee onto the floor. In a matter of moments, Bee's face is covered in wet dog saliva. The licking session ends with the maid saying, "Good, job, Sandra! You found her!"

The hellhound, Sandra, removes her bulk off Bee. Bee slowly stands and the maid orders, "Come along Bee, it's time for…"

The maid stops, seeing the Pope. Her expression hardens and her eyes flare. The maid grabs Bee's elbow, clutching it tightly, and marches towards the exit. The Pope blocks the doorway. He says smoothly, "Beezlma and I were simply playing a game. There is no need to be alarmed!"

The maid's eyes burn as she hisses, "I'd like her to play cards with anyone other than you, clergyman filth."

She squeezes Bee's arm, barges past the Pope, and escapes the room. The maid strides rapidly toward the palace, dragging Bee, while Sandra bounces behind them like a puppy. Bee digs her heels into the earth, forcing the maid to stop. The maid whips around, snakelike, and demands dangerously, "What is it, Beezlma?"

"Why did you drag me away from Mr. Pope? I wanted to play war with him!"

"The Pope is a bad man. It is essential that you stay away from him."

"How is he bad? He taught me how to cheat at cards!"

"What does that have to do with anything? Plus, Lord Satan requests that you avoid him."

Bee freezes at the mention of her master. He…doesn't want her to spend time with Mr. Pope? Has she failed him? Since she spent time with Mr. Pope and her master didn't want her to…doesn't that mean she's disobeyed her master?

The maid says coldly, "Come along Beezlma."

Bee obediently follows the maid, shuffling her feet, head bowed. Her pigtails sag heavily, loosing their bounce. Her red eyes darken and gain a purple hue.

The hellhound slows down, trotting at Bee's pace. She cocks her head, watching Bee with worried eyes.

As they approach the palace gates, the relaxed guards glance nervously at each other and speedily snap to attention. Their eyes stare at the gray city. As the maid and Bee pass, one of them murmurs, "This looks bad. Poor kid."

Once inside, the maid orders coolly, "Go to your room and stay there, unless Lord Satan calls upon you. Do you understand?"

Bee's head involuntarily nods.

"Sandra, stay with her."

The hellhound's tail wags slightly, recognizing her duty. Sternly, the maid looks down her nose at the pair, until she finally sweeps away. Bee shuffles to her room, her heart sinking like a ship. Her mind is filled with short phrases, each stabbing.

Bee whispers quietly. "Master doesn't want me to be around Mr. Pope…Have I angered Master? Is he going to punish me?"

She enters her room and lies on the soft, velvety sheets of her bed. Sandra whines and sits at the foot it, the flames in her eyes tinged blue.

Words of failure rush through Bee's head, an endless chain of accusations, anger, and disappointment. Salty tears roll down her cheeks, staining the crimson velvet.

Sandra hops onto the bed, licking the tears from Bee's eyes. Bee hugs the hellhound tightly, her warm black bulk comforting.

There is a polite knock sounds as a voice announces, "Beezlma, it's dinner time."

Sandra growls as Bee yells, "I'm not eating!"

"Very well."

Footsteps echo as the voice moves away, and Bee buries her face into Sandra's flank. Thanks to Sandra's steaming hot body, Bee's tears sizzle and evaporate, making her cry even more.

The door to Bee's room bursts open, the hinges groaning, complaining. A tall figure looms, his red eyes ablaze. The air surrounding him crackles with angry energy. His tenor voice drops many octaves as he hisses dangerously, "Not eating now are we? What else is this little rebel going to do? Hmm?"

Sandra looks between Satan and Bee, confused. A dark growl, deep in her throat, rolls like a cat's purr. Her hackles rise, the long canine teeth shimmering in the red light.

Satan throws his hand into the air. "What's this? Are my own hellhounds rebelling against me as well?"

Sandra jumps off the bed and rubs her head against her master's thigh. Satan pats her head, "Fine. I see; you're still mine."

He deposits a plate of food on Bee's desk and exits without another word. Sandra lies down by the door, her eyes half closed. Bee sniffles and wipes away the last of her tears. She slides from her bed and sits on her chair. The strands of meat are twirled around the fork, like spaghetti. Its mouthwatering flavor fills her taste buds as she takes a bite. Consuming half the meat, she gives the rest, out of courtesy, to Sandra.

Bee quickly undresses and slips under the covers while Sandra clambers on top. Two heavy eyelids glue themselves together, and before Bee slips into unconsciousness, a frozen hand reaches down and pats her head. It withdraws, leaving a faint sent of blood behind it.

Bee awakes to loud barking and a face more wet then an ocean. Sandra is standing on Bee's bed, playfully wagging her tail in a pouncing position. Bee closes her eyes as the monstrous tongue lathers Bee in dog saliva.

Bee fights Sandra off, winning her bed back from the hellhound. Sandra sits at the foot of it, her face mournful and dejected. Finally rolling out of bed, Bee dresses, orders Sandra to return to the Kennel, and leaves her room. Before reaching the dining room, she hears loud shouting.

"Why would I allow you to visit Earth? Do you have any idea how much trouble you idiots cause?"

"I want to see the sun again, feel warmth, and see if God has any messages for me…"

"Why would my brother have any messages for you?!"

The door creaks as Bee opens it. The Pope and Satan abruptly stop their shouting match. Satan's raised hands drop to his side, face flushed angrily. A hot glare that can easily pierce titanium is sent to the Pope, Satan's red eyes calling for blood. His eyebrows are pulled low over his fiery eyes.

The Pope's face doesn't show a trace of his struggle with Satan. His eyes twinkle merrily as grin crosses his face, triumph.

Satan lounges in his throne and gestures for Bee to sit next to him. The Pope sits opposite of Bee and receives a glare from Satan.

The servant comes in with three plates of omelets, along with two glasses with red liquid and a glass of orange juice. The servant gives Satan and Bee the red glasses, while the orange juice goes to the Pope. The servant then whispers to Satan, "Your Majesty, I am afraid that we are out of human blood…"

"I'm afraid so, sir."

"What kind of blood is this, then?"

"This is shark blood, Your Honor."

Satan's eyes narrow distastefully. They become redder as he says in a dangerous, soft tone, "And why did you not tell me this earlier?"

The servant bows, trembling, "You were busy with many other matters, Sir. The Cook did not wish to disturb you."

"Fine. Next time, tell me before we run out. Understood?"

"Very well, sir."

The servant leaves hurriedly, not wanting to invoke Satan's wrath. The Pope stares at Bee and Satan, wide-eyed. His transparent form becomes more so and his form shivers with repulsion. He asks in a hushed whisper, "You…drink…blood?"

Bee replies cheerfully, "Of course! Why not, Mr. Pope?"

Satan glares at Bee, the embers in his eyes glowing. In response, Bee hangs her head mournfully, staring at her lap.

Satan slices into the omelet and Bee eagerly follows suit. The meal quietly continues, the quiet sliding of a knife the only sound heard.

The Pope stares at the omelet, clearly not eager to eat. Satan sends a swift, menacing glare in his direction; the Pope reluctantly takes a bite, swallowing bite-sized portions without chewing. As Satan finishes his meal, he turns to Bee and orders, "Beezlma, instead of delivering, you are to go get more blood. Fresh and frozen. Understood?"

Bee replies softly, "Yes, master."

Satan then turns to the Pope and says, "I will allow you to visit earth on the condition that you go with Beezlma."

"Very well."

"Good. Now that everything's settled, I'm leaving."

Satan stands, walks a few steps, and pauses. Like a creature from a nightmare, he towers behind the Pope. Leaning down, he whispers a handful of words and exits, leaving a vacuum of air behind him.

Bee stuffs the rest of the omelet into her mouth and drains her glass of blood. A smile crosses Bee's face, her teeth decorated with droplets red. The Pope stiffens and Bee's tongue brushes against her teeth, making them white once more.

Finishing, Bee hops off her chair and dashes away, returning with a large bag. Moving to the center of the room, with her pointer and middle fingers together, Bee draws a circle in the air. Following her fingers, a ring of fire emerges.

Bee smiles, squinting her eyes, and exclaims, "Let's go, Mr. Pope!"

"Yes, lets."

Bee steps back, allowing the Pope through first. He nervously steps through the portal to earth and disappears. The circle of fire extinguishes as Bee steps through.

They emerge to bright sunlight and the buildings of a city. Bee skips along, while the Pope's ghost glides above the ground. No matter how desperately he tries to touch the sidewalk, he simply passes through. The Pope frowns discontentedly; irked at the prospect of being too dead to touch the earth.

Bee giggles, "Don't worry Mr. Pope! Since you're a ghost you can't touch the ground…gliding is pretty fun, isn't it?"

The Pope grunts, not quite agreeing with Bee's point of view. They wander for a while, until they encounter someone. Bee, with perfect innocence, asks, "Do you know where the blood donation center is?"

The man starts at the question. He hesitates, then says, "Follow this street…until…uh… you reach main street, turn left there…and go straight."

"Thank you!"

Bee bounces off in the direction the man told her to go, while the Pope floats behind her. They approach a large whitewashed building. Next to it is a large sign that says, "Donate blood today!" The doors are wide open, friendly and warm. Bee grins and turns to the Pope and exclaims, "Mr. Pope, stay here! I'll be back in minute!"

With that, Bee speeds off toward the donation center. She approaches a large open window and hops over it. She slides on the wall, looking for a storage room. Bee sneaks by people reclining in chairs, their bright, beautiful blood siphoning into little bags.

Bee stops when she sees a refrigerated room full of blood donations, categorized by different blood types. Reaching over, Bee grabs three at a time, shoving the blood bags into her large bag. O, A, B, AB, positive and negative blood fill the bag. Once almost full, she sneaks out, passing through without being detected.

She exits and hides behind a bush. The Pope is talking to someone… or something. The bare feet hover a foot above the ground. Its skin is flawless; everything about it radiates beauty and justice. The features flow, the face perfect, the nose not too pointy or too short. A shimmering halo hangs over its head and pristine white wings emerge from its back. The Pope and angel exchange a few more words and the angel flies off, wings barely extended. It rises up into the air and disappears.

Bee, still behind the bush, expels a breath that has been held too long. Angels are dangerous. Her master had specifically told her to stay away from them. They can kill her.

She inhales quietly, barely filling her lungs with air, for a few minutes. She then emerges from the bush, a smile on her face.

"Now it's time to get some fresh blood!"

The Pope pales, his form trembling, while his eyes open wide in fear. He asks quietly, tentatively, "Are you…vampires?"

Bee's laugh bursts out like an animal, evil and mocking. She replies, giggling, "No, Mr. Pope, we're not vampires! We just like the taste of blood! See? I'm not disintegrating and I'm in full sunlight!"

"Ah, yes…right."

"Time to find some prey!"

Bee cheerfully walks down the street, checking out the houses she passes. The Pope lags behind and slowly pulls himself away from Bee. He floats in the opposite direction, but Bee notices. Cocking her head, she inquires, "Mr. Pope, where are you going?"

"Ah, I'm going to the bathroom, child."

"Ok, I'll meet you back at the donation center when I'm done!"

"Very well."

He turns and glides away. Scratching her head, Bee muses, "Ghosts need to go to the bathroom?"

She moves quickly until she arrives at an apartment complex. Sneaking to the sixth floor, she goes to the sixth apartment to the right. Bee grabs her knife from her pocket. It's wicked, made of black steel and curved like a scimitar. She approaches the apartment and calls, "A package for you!"

A tall woman with blond hair and bright lipstick opens the door. She's wearing a flowing dress with her head held high and expectant eyes.

The knife in Bee's hand gets warmer, itching for action. A cute smile crosses Bee's face and her eyes squint happily. She takes the knife and plunges it into the woman's stomach. The woman screams, but is cut short as Bee slits her throat. Blood splashes everywhere, a good amount soaking Bee. She grins and licks the blood off, reveling at its taste.

"Mmm, fear and sugar. I'm sure Master will like it!"

Bee grabs a glass bottle from her bag and fills it with the woman's blood.. Once full, Bee carefully reaches into the woman's abdomen; her fingers brushing against the soft and smooth intestines. She withdraws her hand, gloved in warm blood. She moves to the nearest wall and writes, "I love killing."

Bee adds multiple smear marks on the walls, humming while doing the gruesome work. Grabbing a long knife from the kitchen, she plunges it into the woman's gut and twists it in the wound. Blood wells and soaks the ground around the body. Bee flicks blood everywhere with her hands, as if she's splattering paint on a canvas. She removes the knife from the wound, dripping with hot blood and places it into the woman's limp hand.

Bee licks off the blood from her hands like a cat grooming its paw. With a wave of her hand, the blood on her clothing vanishes. With a final quality check, Bee leaves.

She returns to the stairwell, and goes six apartments to the left. She rings the doorbell, and this time a man opens the door. He has short hair, which is just as brown as his eyes. He's wearing shorts and a bright yellow shirt. Bee grins and raises a hand, controlling the air around her. She removes all the oxygen surrounding the man. His eyes bulge as he collapses onto the floor, struggling. Two minutes pass and his desperate thrashings finally stop, his body completely still.

A slice to the neck and blood begins to flow. She licks the slit in his neck, lapping up the blood like a dog. Smacking her lips, she exclaims, "I'm positive master would like this blood! It's mean blood!"

Bee plunges her knife into the man's guts and dissects him. She pulls out his intestines, stomach, heart, lungs, liver, everything. The organs are removed and scattered throughout the house. A lung in the refrigerator, pancreas in the bathroom sink, intestines on the bed.

The now-empty cavity of the man's body fills with blood like a small pool of glistening, red water. She submerges a bottle into the cavity and it quickly fills.

Bee wanders through the apartment and opens a pristine while cabinet in the bathroom with her bloodied hands. Inside, she finds a handful of water balloons. They swell as they consume the last droplets of the man's blood.. Bee hand tests the weight of one and tosses it at a wall, where it explodes, showering shimmering droplets everywhere Just enough blood is left behind to write the same message she had left on the woman's wall.

Bee licks her hands, cleaning off her second skin of blood. Bee leaves the apartment complex, richer by two bottles of blood.

Bee teleports home, dumps the blood in the kitchen, and returns to earth. Bee skips to blood donation center. She approaches the building, now heavily shadowed because of the sinking sun.

Bee glances around, without finding a trace of the Pope. Suddenly, a bush to her left rustles loudly. A large man emerges and captures Bee by wrapping his strong arms around her body.

Bee kicks and fights, trying to get away from the strong arms around her. More men surround and grab onto her. Bee hisses a spell under her breath and a large fireball displaces them. The scent of burned clothing, skin, and hair fills the air with its stench.

Bee whips her head around and bites into a man. He cries out and slaps her face, hard. With a sharp intake of breath, Bee turns her head to the left, and pushes all of the air out of her lungs, blowing away three people.

One of the men calls, "She's a witch!"

Bee wiggles and twists trying to get away from their grip. She frees one of her hands and flails it, hitting one of the men in the face. The one free arm continuously smacks people, hoping they'll loosen their grip. One of her legs kick upward, but someone catches it before she can do any damage. An arm with the grip of a vice grabs her left arm.

Thin, black, snake-like things emerge from the ground, wrapping themselves around the men's ankles. The many hands gripping Bee do not slacken; some even strengthen their grips, making Bee cry out in pain.

Bee begins wiggling like a mad snake, her body moving in every which direction, her eyes open wide with fear. Sweat squeezes from her pores, her face becoming deathly white.

Bee shrieks, "Hellfire!"

No fire erupts from the ground. Some of the men chuckle loudly, shaking their heads. The look of a hunted animal crosses Bee's face. She continues her struggles, writhing.

After a few whispered words, one man takes a large, blunt object, and hits Bee over the head. Bee's eyes see a flurry of yellow and purple spots, until her world finally goes black.

Bee's red eyes slowly open, dazed and confused. She's in the center of a large gray room, tied to a pole. People are everywhere, sitting around, talking, drinking. She is in a sitting position, her arms awkwardly hugging the pole. The ropes bind her arms tightly, she can feel her heartbeat's pulse. A thick cloth covers her mouth, and her stomach angrily tries to throw up.

Bee tries to shift position to get more comfortable. Her back arches as she is poked with a sharp object.

A man calls loudly, "Sir, the princess is awake."

"Is she, now?"

The leader, walks to Bee and kneels down. He says with a sigh, "What are we going to do with you, hmm? The old man simply said to capture you…"

The front doors open with a loud bang. A tall, dark, looming figure enters the room, his shadowed figure dark and menacing. He says darkly, "You let the girl go. Now."

The leader inquires, "Who's asking?"


A dark light shines on him. His skin is bright red and two wings emerge from his back. Two twisted horns part his long black hair. Normally blood red eyes become black with red shadows.

A uniform gasp escapes from everyone. The leader steps away from Bee and murmurs, "She's yours, sir."

Satan strides over to Bee, takes a knife from his pocket and cuts away the gag. Bee's eyes tremble as she asks softly, "Master?"

Satan growls angrily, "Of course it's me. Now be quiet."

Bee's head sinks to her chest as Satan cuts her ropes. Once finished, he slips the knife into his pocket.

"Let's go."

As Bee stands, Satan glares at the men in the room, sending chills down their spines. Everyone holds their breath, waiting for them to leave. As they approach the door, it swings open eagerly to let them by.

Satan mutters some words under his breath and a portal to hell appears. They step through, appearing in Satan's throne room. The wings, horns, and red skin, recede until he looks like he usually does, pale skin, with black hair and red eyes.

Satan asks, exasperated, "Why did you let them capture you?"

Bee's head sinks down and her eyes stare fixedly at the floor. Satan grunts and says coolly, "Go to bed."

"Yes, sir."

Dragging her feet, Bee enters her room. She fumes, "It's not my fault I got captured! Mr. Pope wasn't there! They grabbed me! I didn't fail, I didn't! I did not fail!"

Bee grabs a stuffed animal and launches it across the room. She pounds the bed with a constant chant of, "I didn't! I didn't! I didn't!"

Tears stream down her face while she catapults stuffed animals, pillows, pencils, action figures, anything she can get her hands on. She begins another session of beating up her bed with the chant.

Her door swings open and Satan strides in, his anger flaring up, "What do you think you are doing?"

Bee doesn't look up and continues pounding the bed, Satan nonexistent in her world of sorrow.

Satan grabs her wrists tightly before they strike the bed. He growls, "I'm not going to ask again, what do you think you're doing?"

Bee doesn't reply, not knowing how. Satan sighs, exasperated. He drops her wrists and spits, "Whatever. Go to sleep, now."

Bee hides under her covers, hugging her black cat plushy. Bee's eyes continue to tear while her fists clench and unclench. Satan disappears and returns an eternity later. He says angrily, "You're still not asleep? Do I have to read to you?"

Bee doesn't reply, hiding her head. Satan sighs, grabs a storybook, and reads it. The realm of dreams steals her away before Satan can finish.

Satan puts the book away and fixes Bee's covers. He waves his hands and the red glow recedes. Before leaving the room, he peers over his shoulder at the sleeping form of Bee, and silently closes the door.

The next morning Bee yawns and stretches like a cat. She rubs the sleep out of her eyes. Bee's smile springs to her face, until she sees her disarrayed room. Angry tears well up as the memory of yesterday floods back. Wiping them away, she exits her room. She meekly walks to the dinning room.

She enters and perches in the furthest corner. Satan glances up from the book he's reading and questions, eyes narrowing, "What exactly are you doing, all the way over there?"

Bee's head dips down and she doesn't respond. Satan sighs, annoyed. He stands up and moves over to Bee, his footsteps echoing on the hard ground below him. The chair next to Bee scrapes against the floor, producing a noise like nails on a chalkboard. Satan lowers himself into the chair, crosses his legs and continues reading. Some servants walk in with croissants which they place in front of them. Satan looks up from his reading and bites into his. Bee follows but nibbles on it like a mouse. Satan's red eyes look at her sternly and angrily as he hisses, "Stop nibbling and eat it!"

Bee takes a big bite out of the croissant, the red filling spilling on her tongue. Satan finishes his breakfast, stands up and says, "You're free today, do what you want. Don't bother looking for the Pope, he doesn't belong here anymore."

He sweeps out of the room, Bee just finishing.

After finishing, Bee leaves the demon world for Earth. She arrives at a playground, full of chatter and kids. An empty swing serves as a comfortable chair for the sad Bee. Her heart heavy, she's failed her master twice. Twice is two times too many.

Such happy, peaceful surroundings are ill-fit for the feelings of unhappiness that seep through her consciousness. The failures dominate her mind like an irritating tick that stays latched on, no matter how hard you pull.

Bee hops off the swing and walks around, not able to sit still. She suddenly stops. Her skin prickles. A shiver rides down her spine as she cautiously glances at her surroundings.

There's no one watching her. Everyone is absorbed in his or her own activities. Laughing, playing, chatting. Not a single person is looking in her direction. Another shiver slides down her spine.

Bee leaves the park and walks on the street. The presence sits and watches every movement, unblinkingly.

Bee twitches uncomfortably, and continues walking. Free days are rare, but Bee can't enjoy it. The feeling that she's failed overrides everything. Her master…her creator, teacher, caretaker…

The people surrounding her cease to exist, her focus narrowed. Bee collides into people, plowing forward like an ox, but with no purpose.

She slips into an empty alley and the presence vanishes. Walking down the alley she wonders, "I wonder what master is going to do to me? I've failed him so many times…"

A quiet flapping of wings startles her. Bee nervously watches her surroundings. Everything is stone still. Not a hair is out of place. A quiet breeze whooshes through and dissipates. Heaviness hangs in the air, crushing and forceful. A shiver runs down Bee's spine and her limbs freeze. Bee turns around, deciding she'd better get back to the street. With her eyes trained down, she moves forward. She collides into a soft, warm body, a human. Bee mutters, "Excuse me…"


Bee looks up. A flawless face looks back, with cold, hard, blue eyes. White robes with gold edging drape off his shoulders. A soft golden glow radiates surrounds this heavenly being. Large white wings emerge from his back and a halo hovers above his perfectly shaped head. In his arms are a bow and arrow, cocked and ready.

An angel is here to kill her.

Bee trembles, angels are powerful and dangerous. Not a single spell will save her from this being. He will destroy her without blinking an eye. Angels are accurate shooters and will not miss their mark.

Bee turns and flees, her legs pumping and moving as quickly as they possibly can. The walls of the alley flash as she runs, everything a unified blur. All of her will is placed into one thing: escape. Her breath comes in sharp gasps that make her dizzy. Smack. Head and wall collide, Bee falls to the ground, whimpering. Limbs shift beneath the shaking body, allowing her to crawl to the wall. She curls up in the shadows, trying to hide.

The angel slowly approaches, gliding through the air. The impending doom, with every beat of his wings, comes closer. His pure whiteness throws off the impression that he is here to kill.

Finally, he aims his bow. A single second lasts an eternity. With a low twang, the arrow flies.

Bee screws her eyes shut. Her muscles tense as she waits for the impact of the arrow.

Thuk. Bee opens her eyes slowly, cautiously. A tall, dark figure stands in front of her, tense and ridged. A small dribble of blood drips from the hand that slapped the impending arrow from Bee. The figure says angrily, his voice hard, "You kill her, and we have a war on our hands. Understand?"

The angel lands on the ground, cocks his head and says, amusement clear in his voice, "Why, if it isn't Satan."

Bee's eyes widen, her Master…has saved her again? The third time? She's failed three times!

Satan coolly, defensively responds , "And what of it?"

The angel's eyes advert and look at Bee with curiosity. His eyes notice every detail. Chuckling, he shakes his head. He then looks back at Satan and states, "My orders are to destroy her."

"You do that and we'll have a war."

"I can see that."

The angel turns and outstretches his wings, ready to leave. He then pauses and in a business-like fashion says, "Oh, I believe there was a Pope that belonged in your realm…don't worry about him…he's in our hands now. I guess pride can be a good thing, sometimes."

With a leap, the angel ascends into the air. Satan stands defiantly until the angel completely disappears. He turns slowly to face Bee. Before he can open his mouth, Bee shoots off like a rocket. She doesn't want to face her master. She's failed him three times, and that is far too many. Before she runs out of the alley, she collides into him. Satan exclaims angrily, "What's this? First the hellhounds, now my crea-Beezlma!"

Bee hangs her head and doesn't reply. Satan growls, "Lets go home. I still have some use for you."

Bee's eyes widen and she nods slowly. Satan opens a portal, and the two return to Hell.