to hell and back.

The air is cool. Mysterious. It surrounds me, moving around my skin, touching me gently. Swirling as light as a feather. Dark and cool, yet caring. I blink into the air, and if I think hard enough, I can see the silky particles of oxygen moving around me ever so slightly. It is purely silent. Not a sound of movement or a breath of presence. A tender and welcoming silence.

Suddenly, two blazing headlights of a car appear from the distance. For a moment, the peace inside of me remains, but then fear begins to replace it as I see the headlights growing steadily closer. I feel a hard grip on both of my wrists, holding me in place. Panic pulses violently from my chest and outward through my entire body, shattering my calmness like a pane of thin glass under the pressure of a large rock. My throat clenches with fear. The once kind air around me begins to grow agitated, circulating around me like an angry mob, choking me so I can't breathe. I cannot pull away - I cannot move. I am paralyzed. Hands all over me, gripping me, holding me down. The headlights getting closer, moving faster, rushing towards me like unstoppable creatures.

Someone is calling my name.

"Danielle."

Everything is calm again and the zooming headlights recede from view. My vision is dark, but then there is another flicker of light, but not at all like the headlights from before.

"Hello? Hey, bitch, are you deaf? Wake the fuck up."

My eyes open in a flash, lungs gasping for air. Warm, calm, familiar air. Cheeks wet with tears, I look up at the bright figure standing above me. The domineering spider thing I saw earlier. Angel Dust?

I nearly scream at the sight of them, but my throat feels scratched raw, seemingly from yelling, so I hold back. "I'm awake," I mumble, my voice quiet and rough with sleep. My head lays at the bottom end of the bed, where my feet should be, and my sheets have been kicked to the upper part, where my head should be. Pillows are everywhere. I am still in my gross clothes from the day I died, but my shoes are missing. The demon stands over the footboard, looking down at me with an impatient smirk. I rub my hands over my face, the terror from my nightmare not yet flushed from my veins.

"Why are you in my hotel room?" I ask groggily.

"Thought I would check up on you," he says. His voice does not sound inviting, but I note that it is masculine. "Your meeting was scheduled for half an hour ago."

I bolt upright with a gasp. "Wait, what?" I sputter. "It's already half past two?"

He nods. "This does not look good for you, sweetheart." He wags his finger and makes a tsk sound with his tongue. "And please, for the love of everyone's poor eyes, please change your damn clothes. You look like a Barbie doll that's been shoved down the garbage disposal with a hobo's limp dick."

I sit up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. "I will take that as a compliment," I mutter. "And I don't have any other clothes."

His eyebrows shoot up and a small smile spreads across his face. "Aww," he says, making a pantomime of pity. After a pause, he scoffs and crosses his arms, cutting the act. "Sucks for you. I'll tell Charles to reschedule the meeting for 3, and you'd better be there."

With that, he turns and struts from the room, sauciness practically dripping from his stride. I sigh, looking at the neatly vacuumed floor. I have to find clothes. I have to be prepared.

I have to get this job.

Jumping off of the bed, I rush to slide my shoes on and comb my fingers through my hair. Looking in the mirror, I realize that Angel Dust was right. I do look like a Barbie doll that has been shoved down a garbage disposal with a hobo's limp dick. First thing on the shopping list, a comb. Second thing, a professional-looking outfit with a new pair of shoes. Hopefully, I can find some makeup somewhere, but where do I find all of that?