I was bodyless...isolated from my world, I felt like a lone spirit, unexplainable otherwise. Not being able to feel any emotion or anything physically/ Yet...I did began to feel soemthing. Something slight, it wass...warmth. I don't what it is, but in this darkness it's just getting warmer and warmer, I suddenly felt the feeling of overheat, no, burning. I wanted to yelp from the burning harsh feeling I was getting but nothing would come out.

"Alice...Alice wake up or they will take you!" I heard someone say. I suddenly opened my eyes and sat up, flames filled my vision, and in front of me stood a woman, older than myself, I saw the tears in her dress, burnt black on the bottom, raising up to a slender, yet perfectly shaped torso, leading up to a dark, vicious bruise with blood making its way to be seen on top, her long blonde curly hair set down to touch her shoulders lightly, tucked around her hair, with brown eyes and powdered white skin. I looked down to myself, noticing my clothing, the same as I last saw it, and the knife missing from my formerly unusable hand. My eyes widened, scared slightly of the sight, my wound...still there, still bleeding, continuously becoming more and more painful, I winced slightly when I began to stand, I met a little below the new stranger's height, looked up to her, just to notice a grin that lay between her cheeks, she spoke with harsh tone,

"I see you've come to, and I must say you're one of the prettiest." She winked, I blinked, confused at the current scenario.
"Where am I?" I asked, my grip suddednly tightened on the waist of my dress, nervous of her response, which, might I say, was very slow.
"Your new life dear...Hell." I was speechless at that last word, I didn't know how to react, I was forced to give my life away, and for what, to be punished for the crime I had no other choice to do?

The woman introduced herself as Rosalyn Charity, a murderer from 20 years before my birth, she explained that I wasn't exactly stuck in hell, for there is a way for everyone to get out of Hell.

"I can get out?" I said, looking up at her, almost in tears from the relief and stress I was suddenly burdening myself with. My black hair twirling down my back, my bangs hanging over my face, my makeup, ruined, smeared every-which way.
"Yes Love, Hell doesn't to be the correct second life for you anyway." I didn't change my facial expression, no, for I was questioning everything that was happening, mentally, that is. Rosalyn continued to explain further, that Hell is a sort of "Trade Off Center" she proclaimed that souls live, make mistakes, go to hell, pay off sins or stay forevermore."

Hell, the place people always curse others to in the living world. Hell, the place where evil was born and roams nonchalantly . Hell, I'm in it. Doomed untill a demon bets on my living here, or elsewhere. There was ash everywhere everytime I began to get used to the heat, the tempurature only raised past it's maximum point. My wound remained as if it was still that moment I caused it, "fresh" as Rosalyn says.