The strong smell of sulfur assails her nostrils--a familiar stench for someone like her. Purifiers are all used to what vile beasts from the underworld bring with them: their stench, their chilling temperature despite the scorching fire where they came from, their thirst for blood, and their hunger for death.

Valentine, clad in her usual white fighting suit, braves her way along the alleyway. The moon and the stars hide behind the clouds, but she remains unbothered. Her brown eyes have already adjusted to the dark.

A creak.

A long almost silent deep growl.

Sounds that are enough to scare most people away, but not Valentine. She's a Purifier--a demon hunter. She continues her trek towards the beast, her boots sinking into the puddles of mud left by the rain. A sudden thunder is followed by lightning.

She sees it. Finally.

It bears the same flaming red eyes and the same disgusting face that resembles a burnt dragon's. Its fangs hang outside its foaming mouth--deadly acid. It smirks when she meets its eyes. Valentine feels no fear. She has been hunting demons for over twenty years, plunging herself into the most dangerous places and mercilessly slaying its kind.

All for this moment.

There is nothing that she wants more than face this same demon who ransacked her home and butchered her guardians and fellow orphans twenty-six years ago. Their screams of agony, their hapless cries, the sound of tearing flesh joined with the echo of bones breaking and crushing until the deafening wails stop--all these replay inside her head over and over again. Then the demon's laughter. Its roars of triumph after the slaughter have haunted her ever since that night.

"Morsoq," the woman spits its name. She pushes her memory aside and focuses on her long-awaited revenge. Soon, she'll be free from the shackles that keep her dwelling in the dark.

It inches its way towards her, dragging its burnt feet against the muddy ground, a very peculiar way of walking even for a demon. Its long burnt hands fall limply on its sides; its claws as sharp as daggers. "Human," it says in its preternatural voice, "you know who I am." A gust of sulfur fills the air along with its words. Another thunder, but the light from the lightning does not reach them anymore.

"I delight in knowing the names of my prey." Without delaying anymore second, Valentine throws a silver chain to capture the unsuspecting demon, but she had misjudged it.

Morsoq is fast--faster than all the demons she had slain before. In a flash, it has its claws around her pale neck, slamming her lithe body against the rough cemented wall. If she could, she would have gasped but the grip on her neck blocks her airway. "Fool." Its sulfur breath stings her eyes. Valentine grabs a silver dagger and sinks it into the flesh of Morsoq "Purifier!" It growls as it takes away its wounded hand from its grip on Valentine's neck, black blood trickling down its arms and joining the mud. She slides on the floor, her white suit now covered with dirt. She doesn't care. She takes a longer blade from her side, hoping to thrust it into the demon's heart--the only way to kill the creature.

Suddenly, a loud laugh thunders in that corner of the dark alleyway--the very same laugh Valentine heard years ago when she was trembling under her bed, gore all over her sight.

No.

It is not the same anymore; she is stronger now and she can defeat it. She will avenge the only family she knew. Another attempt to a chain around it. Morsoq grabs it using another hand and pulls the demon hunter closer using it. Valentine lets go and runs at the other side-- "Boo!" Damn. Damn it all. The devil grabs her red hair and cruelly plunges her face into the mud. The woman is overwhelmed with the taste of rain, soil, and her own blood. The hurt is too much, not just because of the physical injury but mostly because of the fact of how powerless she still is against her enemy.

This leads her to no other choice. It is to choose him or to die and fail her revenge.

Valentine knows that one must never ever make a pact with a devil; for those who do loses more than what they are given. Yet, she chooses to ask for his service, though he asks her own life as the price.

With her weakened bloodied hand, the Purifier makes a mark on the ground and summons a name: "Kergiel."

Kergiel, the direct descendant of Lucifer himself, almost as powerful as his father and can murder the lesser demons by one strike of a hand--she calls him. The earth rumbles and opens. Hot fire reaches its way from below to the ground where they are. From it, the figure of a big winged devil arises. His face is more frightening and hideous than that of Morsoq's. His built is larger and his skin is covered with sharp black scales.

Morsoq almost convulses in fear at the sight of ita superior.

"Kill him." It is more of a command than a favor. Valentine and Kergiel's pact is sealed. In a swift move, the demon Morsoq is pinned to the ground by Lucifer's son and together they are swallowed by the fires of hell, but only the lesser demon is burnt and dead.

Kergiel stands up, the flames making a way for him. Valentine sits on the ground, looking back at the demon's flaming eyes. "Take my life, as promised," she says bravely. The demon she wanted to be killed the most is dead. Her deed is already done.

Kergiel steps closer to her, tilts her head, and then forces his black blood into her mouth. She can feel it travel into her throat and spread inside her body, burning her from within.

But she did not die.

The first thing she feels is pain, then the breaking of her bones, then her nails turning into claws, then her skin being burned, and then her eyes spur flames.

No.

This is not what she wanted.

"Ker...giel... You should... kill me," she tries to say, "that... is the pact."

With his deep voice, the demon replies, "This is the pact. Purifier, your life is mine now, to serve me."

Valentine's heart tearing apart, tears of blood runs down on her burnt cheeks. "I... do... not... want this!"

"Do not worry. You've been killing for the rest of your life. It's not like anything is going to change." The fires of hell reach the woman, engulfing her. Kergiel further says, "I despise Purifiers like you. You claim you do good, but in the end, we are the same. We are both killers. Remember this: from now on, you shall be called Morsoq, because "morsoq" means 'the one who made a pact,' and you shall forever gorge on human flesh."