Simone’s new body ached with a need that was almost beyond her understanding. Gluttony, lust; these were things she understood. This sensation was new to her, and she was afraid.

It had been hours (days?) since she had last fed. She wasn’t sure: time flowed much differently in this world. In Hell, a single instant of torment (or pleasure) could last for eons. Here, in this world of matter, a moment was just… momentary. Simone supposed that was something she would have to get used to: measuring out time as mortals do.

And another thing she would have to get used to: calling herself Simone. Not her real name, of course; her true name was unpronounceable in human words, although it translated into something like “Walks-on-Razors”. Not a proper mortal name at all. The boy who released her gave a bit of himself to fashion for her this body of flesh, so she took his name as well.

If she did not feed, this body would die, and she would have to go back.

And Simone wasn’t planning on leaving any time soon.