The labyrinthine corridors of Hell twisted and writhed like living things, their walls pulsing with an eerie, crimson glow. Demi navigated this treacherous maze with practiced ease, though her usual confident stride had abandoned her. Each step echoed ominously, a grim reminder of the last time she'd been summoned to the devil's inner sanctum—after her catastrophic failure with the author, Jack.

As she walked, Demi's mind wandered to her past, to the life she'd left behind when she'd sold her soul. She'd been a rising star in the music industry once, not unlike Phoenix. A small smile tugged at her lips as she thought of him—his talent, his charisma. In another life, they might have been peers, perhaps even friends. She quickly shook off the thought, chiding herself for such sentimentality.

Approaching the towering obsidian doors that led to her master's private chambers, Demi felt the weight of her past mistakes pressing down upon her shoulders. The summons had come unexpectedly, mere hours after Phoenix's interview had concluded. She knew that such haste could only mean trouble, and a flicker of worry for Phoenix passed through her mind before she could suppress it.

Demi paused before the imposing entrance, gathering what little courage remained. She smoothed down her sleek black dress, a habit from her mortal days that she'd never quite shaken. She raised a trembling hand to knock, but before her knuckles could make contact, the doors swung open of their own accord. A wave of sulfurous heat washed over her, carrying with it the whispers of countless damned souls.

"Enter," came the devil's voice, smooth as silk yet sharp as a razor's edge.

Steeling herself, Demi stepped into the chamber. The vast room was cloaked in writhing shadows, illuminated only by flickering, otherworldly flames that danced along the walls. The air crackled with malevolent energy, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

At the center of the room, seated upon a throne of twisted bone and smoldering brimstone, was her master. The devil's form shifted constantly, never settling on a single appearance for more than a moment. One instant, he was a handsome man in an impeccable suit; the next, a monstrous creature with horns and wings. But his eyes remained constant—two burning embers that seemed to pierce right through to Demi's very essence.

"My lord," Demi began, forcing her voice to remain steady, "you summoned me?"

The devil leaned forward, his gaze intensifying. "Demi, my dear. I trust you have news about our little songbird's performance today?"

Demi swallowed hard, knowing that every word she uttered could either save or damn her. She'd always prided herself on her quick wit and silver tongue, skills that had served her well both in life and in her demonic duties. But now, faced with her master's piercing gaze, she found herself fumbling for words.

"Yes, my lord. The interview with Phoenix... it didn't go quite as smoothly as we'd hoped." She hesitated, surprised by the twinge of regret she felt at having to report Phoenix's potential misstep.

A low growl emanated from the devil's throat, causing the very air around them to vibrate. The flames in the room flared higher, casting grotesque shadows across the walls. "Explain," he commanded, his voice resonating with otherworldly power.

"The interview itself went according to plan, my lord. Phoenix sang only the lyrics we've allowed, as per our contract. But..." Demi hesitated, bracing herself for her master's reaction. She could feel sweat beading on her forehead, a reminder of her lingering humanity.

"But?" The devil's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, the single word carrying the weight of a thousand threats.

"There was a question, my lord. One that shouldn't have been asked. It probed too deeply, came too close to revealing our influence." Demi's words tumbled out, each one feeling like it might be her last. "The interviewer, Catherine, claims she was paid by a stranger to ask. But I can't be certain if she's telling the truth or if she's somehow onto us."

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The devil's form solidified into that of a towering, monstrous being, his wings unfurling to cast the room into even deeper shadow. The temperature in the chamber plummeted, frost forming on the obsidian walls. "And how, pray tell, did this happen? I thought you had everything under control, Demi. Or have you learned nothing from your last failure, Jack?"

Demi flinched at the mention of her past mistake, the name 'Jack' striking her like a physical blow. Memories of that failed operation flooded her mind—the promising young author whose soul had slipped through their fingers, all because of her miscalculation.

"I... I don't know, my lord. I thought I had anticipated every possibility, but this question... it was unexpected." Demi's voice wavered, her usual confidence deserting her.

"Your uncertainty is not comforting, Demi," the devil snarled, rising from his throne. He circled her slowly, each step causing the ground to alternate between smoldering heat and biting cold. "I entrusted you with this task because I thought you, capable. Was I mistaken?"

"No, my lord!" Demi exclaimed, her composure finally cracking. She felt a flicker of her old self—the ambitious, driven woman she'd once been—rise within her. "I swear to you, I will fix this. I'll do whatever is necessary."

The devil stopped directly in front of her, his face inches from hers. His breath was both scorching and freezing, a paradox that left Demi disoriented. "Whatever is necessary? Are you prepared to go to any lengths, Demi? To ensure that our plans for Phoenix remain intact?"

Demi met his gaze, steeling herself against the otherworldly power radiating from her master. In that moment, she made a decision. She would not fail again, no matter the cost. "Yes, my lord. I am."

A cruel smile played across the devil's lips, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth. "Good. Because make no mistake, my dear. If Phoenix slips through our grasp as Jack did, the consequences for you will be... most unpleasant. I might just bind your fate to his, let you experience every moment of freedom that should have been mine to corrupt."

A shudder ran through Demi's body at the thought, her mind conjuring images of eternal torment. But beneath the fear, a spark of determination ignited. She'd clawed her way to the top once before, in life. She could do it again in death.

"I understand, my lord. It won't come to that. I'll handle the situation, no matter what it takes."

"See that you do," the devil said, his voice dripping with menace. He returned to his throne, his form shifting once more into something vaguely humanoid. "This Catherine... watch her closely. If she proves to be a threat to our plans, eliminate her. As for Phoenix, ensure that he remains firmly under our control. By any means necessary."

Demi nodded, her mind already racing with possibilities. The wheels were turning, her old cunning returning. "Consider it done, my lord. I won't fail you again."

The devil leaned back, steepling his fingers. "For your sake, I hope not. Now go. And remember, Demi—I'll be watching your every move. Do not disappoint me."

As Demi turned to leave, the devil's voice stopped her one last time. "Oh, and Demi? Be creative in your solution. I do so enjoy a good spectacle."

With a final nod, Demi exited the chamber, the heavy doors slamming shut behind her with a finality that echoed through her very bones. As she made her way back through the twisting corridors of Hell, her initial fear began to give way to determination. She had been given a chance to redeem herself, and she wouldn't waste it.

Ideas began to form in her mind as she walked, each more devious than the last. She needed to neutralize the threats posed by both Phoenix and Catherine, but in a way that wouldn't arouse suspicion. Something that would keep Phoenix out of the public eye while simultaneously ensuring Catherine would be too preoccupied to cause any more trouble.

A wicked smile spread across Demi's face as the beginnings of a plan took shape. Her old creativity, the same that had once penned hit songs, now turned to darker purposes. Perhaps a carefully orchestrated accident for Phoenix? Something to keep him isolated and under their control. And for Catherine... well, there were ways to ensure she'd be too distracted—or too terrified—to pursue her dangerous line of questioning any further.

As she formulated her plan, Demi felt a twinge of something unfamiliar. Was it regret? Sympathy for the humans she was about to manipulate? She pushed the feeling aside. Such emotions were luxuries she could no longer afford.

Demi's pace quickened as she left the depths of Hell behind, eager to set her machinations in motion. She had work to do, and this time, failure was not an option. Phoenix's soul belonged to the devil, and she would make damn sure it stayed that way—no matter the cost to the mortals above.

With each step, Demi felt more like her old self—ambitious, cunning, unstoppable. And deep down, in a part of herself she rarely acknowledged, she wondered if this was truly what she'd bargained for when she'd made her deal all those years ago.