Chapter Text
Hell didn't welcome Evangeline, it swallowed her whole. When she died, burned by the flames, she was overcome by an indescribable pain, which slowly faded as she fell through the last layer of shadow. When she opened her eyes, she found herself standing on the asphalt. Her legs gave way and she found herself kneeling in a dark alley, once again in the shadow of everything.
The air was different, perhaps because it had a slight smell of sulphur, or because it was warmer than she remembered. She should have died, she should have slipped into eternal oblivion, black and without any kind of consciousness. Yet she could smell tobacco smoke, the rottenness of the alley where she had ended up, the sound of car horns. Above her, the hellish sky pulsed like an open wound: it was red.
For a long moment she didn't move, she raised her eyes to look around. She was conscious, somehow, but she was tired. She didn't have the strength to despair or scream – she didn't want to attract anyone's attention, especially in a place she didn't know – and she was still processing the fact that, even though she felt physically alive, the feeling that she could die again was upsetting her. Perhaps it was a past memory? Now her memory was confused.
The first thing she really felt, however, was the warmth of her skin. It was hot, but she didn't feel feverish. It was a strange warmth, almost pleasant. She looked at her hands and saw that they were tapered, with small red claws, and had a strange black tinge that reached up to her wrists. They looked like they were made of ash, or what was left of something that had once been alive and then burned.
Her mind struggled to process everything, but one thing was certain: her body was burned. It was burned alive. But now that same fire wasn't bad, it didn't burn her skin, it didn't cause her pain. It was as if she had been shaped by the fire itself. That heat was fucking pleasant.
When she shifted her gaze to the alley, she found herself strangely comfortable looking into the darkness. Something inside her told her that she used to be unable to adjust her eyesight in that way. The lights of the signs on the skyscrapers particularly attracted her; they were so bright. Someone turned to look at her, but they went back to what they were doing before. It seemed like a city too busy to pay attention to a newcomer.
Yet something – someone – had been watching her for some time. A figure materialised beside her with the grace of a fire deciding where to burn. She was tall, elegant, and beautiful in an almost painful way. Nine tails floated behind her like streaks of crimson smoke, and her golden eyes shone in the darkness like two beacons in the night.
Her voice came before her form, velvety, ancient, deeply amused by what she saw. “Ah, there you are, little burned fox.”
Evangeline looked up at her and stiffened slightly. She couldn't understand how she could know, given that for Evangeline it was such a vivid memory, yet so distorted. But inside she knew that this creature wasn't wrong. She was waiting for her.
The Nine-Tailed Fox advanced slowly, her body swaying, sensual yet dangerous. She stopped in front of her, bowing her head slightly as if observing an incomplete work of art. “You're not trembling,” she noted. “What a surprise. Almost everyone cries, screams, begs. Not you.” A slender finger lifted her chin. “I think you know exactly where you are.”
Evangeline took a few seconds to think. Although her memories were hazy, that city screamed danger and sin from every angle. And something inside her told her that... that was exactly where someone like her must go. When she was able to speak, in a hoarse voice, she whispered, “Hell.”
“The only place you could go,” the fox demon murmured, satisfied. “The fire took you... and the fire spat you out. I'd say we have a lot in common.”
One of the nine tails brushed Evangeline's cheek, leaving a trail of heat that didn't burn, but seemed to merge with the warmth of her skin. As if the flames were checking to see if she was really one of them.
Evangeline didn't back down. She didn't have the strength, but she didn't feel afraid either. There was something calm and inevitable in her gaze. The gaze of someone who hadn't chosen the wrong destination.
The Nine-Tailed Fox smiled. “I'll take you,” she decided, as if choosing a new piece of jewellery to wear. “A fox like you shouldn't wander alone. Hell would devour you in an hour.”
Evangeline looked at her, but didn't object. “What should I do?”
The Overlord laughed, perhaps a little ironically at her naivety. After all, she had just arrived in hell and still had to figure out how things worked there. And she was a poor damned soul who had just arrived, disoriented and with a mind still perfectly malleable. She was born of fire, just like her, and was perfect to take with her. Part of the Overlord was gloating over having found such an interesting soul before the other Overlords.
“You must give me your soul, darling,” the nine-tailed fox revealed to her in a mellifluous voice. “And I will give you the power that will never extinguish you.”
Evangeline hesitated. Sell her soul to a stranger? A foolish move. Should she learn to live alone in hell, or choose to live with someone who knew all too well how that world worked? What did she have to lose, after all? She was in hell, so whatever she had left behind in her past life was gone, lost, burned. She was simply alone in a world full of sinners.
She stood up, looked the demon in the eyes, and then nodded.
The majestic fox touched her forehead with a glowing claw, tracing a small symbol in ash that lit up for a moment and then disappeared — a mark, or a curse: it was hard to tell. “The name you had no longer belongs to you,” she whispered. “Here, you are reborn. And I will call you…” Her fingers rested on her blackened cheek. A breath of warmth slid down her body. “Maribelle.”
The name fell upon her like a sweet condemnation. A new life, with a chain around her neck.
Evangeline — Maribelle — lowered her gaze, her heart beating in a new, feverish rhythm. She didn't know who she would become, but she would have to fight in this new life, just as she felt she had done in her past life. Perhaps it would be even more difficult, perhaps that pact would only be an obstacle for her. But now she had to start living again and learn as much as she could about this new world.
“Call me Vyxenne. From today, you're mine,” she whispered.
Maribelle touched her neck. Something had wrapped around it like a velvet scarf and then disappeared. A bond between her and the fox. A contract. “I don't remember anything…” was all she could say.
Vyxenne smiled, almost motherly. “Darling, you will remember everything in time,” she reassured her. “Hell doesn’t forgive: hell was made to remind sinners of their sins.”
Maribelle nodded, her words made sense. She would remember who she was later. Vyxenne held out her hand. Maribelle took it. And the two foxes, one born of fire and the other made of fire, disappeared into the crimson lights of the city, as Hell began to pulsate around them once more.
