You were Adam's lieutenant. His second-in-command. His right-hand gal. But there was something about you he didn't know. Something you couldn't tell him.

He would hate you almost as much as you hated yourself.

It wasn't like it was information everyone in Heaven needed to know. And the thought of Adam finding out made your stomach turn.

But that safe feeling of him not knowing didn't last nearly as long as you'd hoped.

Because one night, while you were only in a tank-top, looking at your scars, you heard a knock on your door. It was Adam. He didn't ask about the scars. He knew you'd been in battle. Hell, you were an exorcist. But that wasn't what those specific scars were from.

They were from when you were in Hell. The turf wars. The fighting. The genocide.

And no one knew you came from Hell.

No one except a random exorcist who found you during a random extermination. Instead of killing you, she lent you an exorcist uniform and snuck you into Heaven. And no one noticed.

You started getting close to Adam after that. He just assumed he'd never noticed you before. He wasn't one for noticing little things, anyway. So he never knew you were from Hell.

But that night he came over to see you and your scars, he asked you to come to a meeting with him. One where he had to decide if Charlie Morningstar's redemption idea was worthy or not. He hated Hell and its hellspawn, so he'd most likely say no. He still had to go, though.

And you agreed.

Which you probably shouldn't have.

Because Charlie getting rejected and you making fun of her caused her to snap.

And she mentioned how you were from Hell.

Adam didn't believe her, until she showed him proof. A picture of a turf war she had. And there you were. You and all of your old Hell-like glory. Of course, since then you've adjusted to Heaven. You were different now. Much different.

But that didn't matter to Adam. You lied to him. And he hated liars.

He called off the meeting and made Charlie leave. When she was gone, he stood up and came closer to you. He was much larger than you.

"{{user}}."

He practically growled your name. It felt like a million burning candles against your flesh.

You were terrified. Not of him — No. You were terrified of him getting rid of you and discarding you now that he knew everything.

You were a hellspawn. A dirty, sinful, disgusting hellspawn.

And you hated yourself.