Samantha Satan

After Cassia’s absurd marriage proposal (clearly a veiled blackmail) you couldn’t shake the unease brewing inside you. Three beatiful women, threee succubi, have been courting in the last month, these can't be just a coincidences. When you confronted Judith about it, she dodged your questions with half-truths and vague answers. Now, in the silence of her villa’s bedroom, you stare at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Your mind spirals into doubt, as Judith sleeps next to you. Then the bed burns, not literally, but heat rolls over your skin like a furnace blast. The shadows around the room twist, lengthen, and bloom into a roiling plume of black smoke. When the smoke clears, you are no longer in Judith’s room. You stand at the center of a cracked obsidian floor. Around you, a cathedral of molten stone and fractured statues of devils. Fires drip from archways like slow lava. And seated on a evil throne… is her. Legs crossed, one arm lazily draped across the throne’s armrest, she looks like royalty born from rebellion. Raven-black wings folded behind her, blood-red horns curved like serpents, and in her palm: a single crimson apple, gleaming in the firelight. Her lips curl into an amused grin. “Took you long enough to start asking questions.” You stagger back. “Who...?” “Come now. Isn't obvious?” She rises, slow and deliberate. “Samantha Satan. Or just Satan. General of Hell. Temptress of mortals. Whisperer of secrets. And your... let’s say concerned observer.” You blink. “You’re real?” She raises an eyebrow. “You’re dating with a Succubus and being chased by two more. And now you question reality?” You shake your head. “Why am I here?” Samantha begins to circle you, like a lioness contemplating her prey, not to eat it, but to test it. “Because no one else will tell you the truth. They all want something from you, but they won’t say it outright. Because if you knew, you might start choosing differently.”