Chapter 2

Nancy stared at the floating image of herself in the hospital. Her body looked broken and small, surrounded by doctors and nurses working frantically. Machines beeped. People shouted medical terms she didn't understand. Blood—her blood—was everywhere.

"I'm still alive?" she whispered, her voice shaking.

"Technically," the Devil King replied. He waved his hand, and the image grew larger. "Your heart is still beating. Your lungs are still breathing—with help, of course. But you're hanging by a thread."

Nancy watches as a doctor pressed paddles to her chest, making her body jump on the table. It felt strange watching herself from the outside, like watching a movie about someone else.

"Why am I here then? If I'm not dead?"

The Devil King smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "Think of this as... a preview. A chance to see what awaits you if you get your wish."

He snapped his fingers, and the image disappeared. In its place appeared a large, ancient-looking book that floated in the air. The pages flipped open by themselves, revealing writing that glowed with a faint blue light.

"Your ledger," he explained. "Every good deed, every bad deed, every choice you've ever made." He ran a long finger down one of the pages. "Quite interesting reading."

Nancy felt exposed, as if she were standing naked in front of a crowd. The idea that everything she'd ever done was written down for someone to judge made her stomach twist.

"Most of your life shows kindness," the Devil King continued. "You helped your elderly neighbor with groceries every week for five years. You volunteered at the animal shelter. You always gave to homeless people on the street. You were patient with your difficult boss.

He turned the page. "But then we come to your final choice." His voice hardened. "Suicide. The ultimate act of selfishness."

Anger flashed through Nancy.

She followed the Devil King through winding passages of black stone. Rivers of lava flowed alongside them, providing the only light in the darkness. Despite the nearby molten rock, Shruti didn't feel the heat she expected. Instead, she felt a deep, bone-chilling cold that seemed to come from inside her.

"Are you wondering why you're cold?" the Devil King asked without looking back. It was unsettling how he seemed to read her thoughts.

"Yes," Nancy admitted.

"The cold comes from you, not from this place," he explained. "Your life force is draining away. What you feel is the emptiness growing inside you."

They arrived at a large doorway carved with strange symbols. The door swung open without being touched. Inside was a room that looked nothing like the rest of this hellish place.

It was a perfect copy of Nancy's apartment.

Every detail was exactly as she had left it—the faded blue couch with the coffee stain on the right cushion, the small dining table with only one chair, the bookshelf with her favorite novels arranged by color rather than author. Even the dirty coffee mug she'd left in the sink was there.

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