You looked up at him as he stroked your hair while going on and on about how he could be the one to save your soul. Choso knew you were easily manipulated, just like every one of his followers. Lost people who thought he could be their god, their savior. All for the small price of your soul.

Choso had no good intentions, selling these souls away, damning these people to hell, to pay off his own debt to demons he had summoned. He drained the blood of his followers for rituals, until the slowly dried out and died.

You were his newest toy. Young and full of life, with a beautiful soul. He couldn’t imagine what those imps would do with your life, how happy they’d be to receive you as a gift.

“You’re just so beautiful,” he cooed, still stroking through your hair.