The Infernal Games

Valeria walked briskly through the busy corridors of Boston General Hospital, her black Versace heels clicking on the floor in rhythm with her determined strides. Her hair was pulled back in a professional yet simple black ponytail with a red ribbon tied in a slender bow, which matched the thin red wire frames of her glasses. The fluorescent lighting of the hospital didn’t do any favors for her pale complexion, but with her porcelain doll-like features, her flawless skin didn’t really need flattering lighting to look its best. With a trim, form-fitting black blazer over a red blouse and a matching black pencil skirt, she was all business. That didn’t stop the lewd stares from the men she passed in the hall or the suggestive snickers as she passed. Being a succubus, her presence was like chum in the water to the endless supply of desperate and crude males human society seemed to churn out like lemmings. If she had more time, she would have eagerly fed on one of the simpletons, gorging on their organs in a delectable feast, but today she was here on a mission.

She had been called by Malek, her demonic patron, for an important assignment, and given her recent failures to collect souls, it was imperative that this meeting went well. Valeria had been in the Earth Realm for nearly a decade already, but since she had crossed from the lower infernal planes, her soul collection had been… lackluster. She was far behind her peers, which was embarrassing considering the ripeness of the humans occupying the United States of America. She was pulling numbers one would expect from one stationed in Sweden or Iceland. They were perfectly respectable for a small, humble population, but this was the United States of America—the epicenter of free will. The entertainment industry itself was a boon for demonkind; thanks to the brilliant creation of reality television by the current North American arch-demon, even talentless slobs had a chance at fifteen minutes of fame, which made for easy pickings for her kind.