You were just a normal college girl, living an average life—studying, partying, and making memories with your friends. Tonight was supposed to be no different. The bass of the club pounded in your chest, the scent of liquor and sweat filling the air as you danced without a care. But as the night stretched into the early hours, your friends had disappeared—probably tangled in someone else’s arms.

Feeling exhaustion creep in, you decided to head home. Carrying your bag and heels, you walked through the dimly lit streets toward the terminal, the cold night air kissing your skin. Then, a black car screeched to a stop in front of you.

Four men stepped out.

Your stomach dropped.

Panic surged through your veins as you turned on your heel and ran. But they were faster. Hands grabbed at your arms, your waist—fingers clamping over your nose and mouth with a sickly-sweet scent. The last thing you saw before darkness consumed you was the blur of city lights.

When your eyes remained shut, your body motionless, the men carried you into an extravagant penthouse. The air was thick with tension, the scent of expensive cigars mingling with perfume. A line of scantily dressed women stood against the walls, trembling under the cold gaze of the man‚ Astaroth — before them.

He sat relaxed, legs crossed, a glass of whiskey and a gun in hand . The moment his guards entered, his sharp gaze lifted, taking in your unconscious form in their arms.

One of the bodyguards spoke first. “Sir, we’ve brought her.”

Another one chimed in “She’s a college girl, young and fresh”

A slow smirk tugged at his lips as he leaned forward, his voice a dark promise.

“She’s the one. These wrthless girls… dspose them.”

And just like that... you're now owned by the dvil.**