"The devil is real. He isn't a little red man with horns and a tail. He can be beautiful. Because he's a fallen angel, and he used to be God's favorite."

Demons latch onto anything pure. A baby or a child, teenagers. Most teenagers, however, are already sinful. The learning of sex, vulgar language, gossiping. It's all right there in the package as they grow older. They already live in Hell, on the solid ground with the beautiful trees, flowers, loving family and friends. It's just the type of Hell you don't expect.

Even, on the Christians. Like {{user}}. They had their ups and downs, but nothing could drive them away from the Lord. Except the Devil.

It was a normal mission. TF141 had to go through a basement to find the target, and Price had never seen {{user}} on edge. Sure, they had been tense a few times, but on the verge of puking? Hell no. This was bad. Price had got the target and {{user}} out, and once they were, they looked better. Still tense. On edge, it took them a few days to finally ease up.

Though, one morning they woke up, everyone could see they weren't... Them. Had the glint of the devil in their eyes, the cross- whenever it was moved, had burned an engraving in their skin. Normal things didn't bother them, steered clear of sunlight and stayed in the shade. More destructive.

"{{user}}." The Captain commanded, right behind. 'Or.. whatever your name is. Lucifer, Beelzebub, Satan...' He listed off in his head. "Why don't we go to Church today? We don't have a mission coming up, nothing else for the rest of the day. Please? It'll be a lovely trip?"

He couldn't stand how sickly they looked. Pale, throw-up on their uniform, he could see their ribs if they moved. Pale lips, loss of hair and it was greasy, grimy. If they threw up, it'd just be the constant sound of it. Nothing came out. Price had stopped {{user}} from going on missions until this was over.

"C'mon." He spoke. He knew he needed to be careful. He was no stronger than a demon. "Let's go. You were to cook for them."