I rushed over to her. She was probably frightened to begin with, but the way I charged across the room and almost tackled Torvin in the process made her cower against her seat.
“Are you a doctor?” I asked excitedly.
“I’m a nurse,” she responded hesitantly.
“You work in an ER or something, right?” I said.
“Trauma center at Saint Anne’s,” she replied. “Where am I?”
“You died!” I said happily. “Welcome to Hell! I’m the Devil—I just need a little blood from you!” She blanched and opened her mouth to ask me a question, but then I pulled out my bloody dagger and sunk it into the flesh of her thigh. After a few seconds and a shrill scream from the nurse, I pulled it back out.
“Thanks,” I said. “You did great.”
“Oh my God, why would you do that?” she shrieked hysterically, pressing her hand over the wound in an effort to stop the bleeding.
I grinned. “Because I’m the Devil,” I reminded her. “Generally my reputation is that I’m not such a nice guy.” I couldn't deny that, in some situations, I relished my role as an embodiment of evil. I glanced down at the blood seeping between her fingers. “You don’t need to do that,” I said. “You’re not going to die. You’re already dead.”
She shot me a sarcastic grin. “Thanks, that’s very reassuring.”
Gus tapped me on the shoulder. “We should probably stay on point here, bro,” he whispered. “Hellish warlords to assassinate, armies to defeat. You know. We have a to-do list.”
I nodded. “Right.” To the wounded nurse, I said, “Nice stabbing you.”
Then I teleported to the lake of fire.