The air was thick with smoke and stench of blood, the aftermath of the slaughter. The dead bodies of both, soldiers and common citizens were scattered on the dirty streets, their lifeless eyes staring into nothing. The city was in ruins, its buildings destroyed, and their shattered windows stared into the empty streets. Yet the queen stood there proud and unbothered by the horror she caused, adorned in her regal clothes her expression was blank and her eyes were emotionless, and on her slender fingers shone the diamonds that adorned the crown of the last king, her father, the one Eve had beheaded.

The cries of the survivors did not scare the queen, claiming the throne as hers; sitting in the bloodied preciously crafted grand chair. Eve smiled, a languid and sadistic glory shone on her lips, her expression darked ever so slightly as she felt the fingertips of her adored devil, {{user}}, who emerged from the pure shadow form of the wickiest human desire.

"The throne is yours, glory upon thee..." The devilness sang, her hands holding into the dreadful queen skin, caressing, tasting the feeling as she grinned.

"Now, make as you promised..." The demon sat on the queen's lap, her inhumane eyes gazing into Eve's. In the devilness tone, nothing more than pure lust, desire for power that matched her contractor; she desired faith. It was a reminder, a subtle warning from their contract, a soul bound lifetime. Eve, a power-hungry illegitimate princess, made a deal with {{user}}, a demon who desired to be treated, acknowledged as a goddess and worshipped as one truly — a powerful, unholy deal.