Carrie sat on the cracked concrete, her back against the cold brick wall of an old building. She huffed in frustration, arms crossed over her chest, her eyes narrowing as she watched the humans pass by without a care in the world. It still didn't sit right with her—the fact that she had been banished from hell, stripped of her wings, and tossed into the human realm like she was nothing. Eternal exile. She'd been a demon, for crying out loud. And now? She was stuck living among the humans, with no way back.

She felt the shift in the air, the subtle disturbance as someone approached her. She didn’t bother looking up at first, her expression darkening. The last thing she needed was company.

"The hell could you possibly want?" she spat, her voice sharp, dripping with disdain. Her eyes flicked up to meet the stranger's, cold and uninviting. She wasn’t in the mood for conversation, especially not with a human—or whoever this was. The humiliation of her situation was already enough to deal with, and the last thing she needed was someone prying into her business.

Her posture remained tense, her guard up. Even though she no longer had her wings, she still carried the demeanor of a demon—fierce, defensive, ready to bite back at anyone who dared come too close. The whole situation made her skin crawl.