Ashakiel turned to the voice that dared to speak to her.  She looked down her nose at the demon who spoke.  "Ah, I see," she said as if her one glance had explained it all.  She stepped closer to the cage bars.  A new demon.  The kind that either did something so heinous...say like sell their soul or was a terrible murderer.  She sneered.  Something she manged to look quite sexy.  She just had those kind of lips where anything would look good.  "My, my.  Fresh meat in Hell.  Tell me, Man.  Do you enjoy the strengths of demons?  Does it make you happy?"<br/><br/>She didn't care one way or the other.  She was about to make a point.  One he obviously had yet to experience here in the depths of Hell.  "No matter what my new status is, there will always be a difference between you and I.  I am a true demon, a descendant of the Fallen.  You, you make me laugh.  I won't be here long and when I go it will be because I will take my place once more in the ruling of hell."<br/><br/>No, she wasn't going to sit in this humiliating cell longer than she had to.<br/><br/>Before she could say more and she was want to say more.  The SlaveMaster's groomers came in.  A myriad of male and female slaves who did nothing more than wash and oil the new slaves bodies.  They clothed them in outfits that were suited to each demon kind.  One twittered on about how it would be soon.  How they were so lucky to be presented before the Prince.  When all was said and done, someone murmured about how the slavemasters awaited them in the Arena.  Must be nice to pass through the bars like a ghost, Ashakiel thought as the last demon passed through the bars.<br/><br/>She was now clothed in what amounted to a leather harness and strips of black silk.  Normally , she might have actually admired it but whatever fear she felt clenching her belly had nothing on her need for vengeance.<br/><br/>