It’s been about three months since Boggy did as he promised and took me to the demon’s realm. Though so long had past, I still felt uncomfortable around the aura of the demon kind. I could not describe their stench in words. It’s not a real odour, but a stink of sin. A feeling like if God were to pass judgement, those guys would’ve definitely ended up in Hell. Their looks were surprisingly similar to a human’s though. Similar than I imagined. This made me wonder why Boggy didn't look like people but looked like a real monster instead.

Like destiny to all humans who set foot on this land, from the first day I crossed into this realm, I was marked a slave. That meant endless full days of slave work that begun from sunrise and end at dusk. I was sold with a few other humans into a demon’s house. I remember whips digging into my skin and that unbearable sting seeping into my bones as the head demon laughed pleasingly at my pain.

Living among those beasts, I learnt how defenceless humans were.

Finally, the day came when I was to be sold to another place. I felt like the slave in a slave trade. Ironically enough, I was one. A day had gone by, as I stood tied tightly to a wooden log with hands behind my back in the market. The slaves around me slowly disappeared as they were purchased. At dusk, at the sun’s golden departure from the market street, only few were left, and some looked around my age.

Within the rushing crowd of market men, I spotted this cute, chubby, almost cartoon-like girl with long hair orange as the firing sun. Her watery emerald eyes met mine as she turned around to look at the stock of slaves. She walked over to the smugglers.

“Excuse me, are there any more of those old, loyal types left? The palace needs a few extras around the kitchen and basements.” She asked with a soft but demanding voice.

“Sorry lady Sunny, only these young ones left.” The fat bearded demon replied respectively.

“Oh.” She exclaimed, meeting her eyes to mine with a twitch on the eyebrow.

She was quiet for a moment, observing me sharply with her Jewry-like eyes, until another demon wearing a posh cape and golden crown appeared. He put his giant hand around her shoulders and asked tenderly, “chosen yet?”

“Yes. This one.” She replied quickly, pointing at my nose.

Really, although her nails were nicely done, they were just about two centre metres away from scratching the tip of my nose, which was why I then looked at her horrified.

In three months, this was the first time I sat in a carriage without being bruised from bumpy roads. The unusually soft hay around me lit gold under the dusk light. They had untied my hands and feet that were blistered and bleeding from rope burn.

The ‘palace’ that the girl mentioned to the demon smugglers was bigger and fancier than I imagined. It shone dim blue under the stars and clever patterns were engraved into all walls of the building. The pale cobalt ground and walls were spotless and clean like it had never been touched. A quiet, gentle-looking guy led two other slaves and me to a huge, heavily patterned wooden door.

The door opened with a long squeak and an almost empty room welcomes us. The guy who led our way stood at the centre of four single beds each placed at a corner of the room and finally opened his mouth.

“From here on, you three shall serve the Yanrin ‘flaming-spirit’ family. You will have another member of this room, and you four shall be in charge of cleansing wounds for the worriers at war and tidy their rooms. The other slave will tell you what to do from here. Just wait until he arrives.”

He quickly dashed out of the room after delivering his speech. Was he telling us to be housemaids or did I miss something?

After I examined those other two slaves, I realised that they were both at lease a few years elder to my age. No one spoke a word after we each selected a bed. I sat on mine, feeling glad that the materials for these blankets were warm and clean. After three months, I was finally able to experience some peace of mind, but this comfort was soon shattered by footsteps that stopped at the bedroom doorway…

*BONUS* Mighty Diary of Seohyun. First page.

(She only likes to fill one side of a leaf because she thinks it looks clean)

Sigh. Lately I’ve been felling rather confused about myself. I mean, what am I? Doctor Mamare said that she created me in her lab by accident so I was thinking; maybe I’m not alive? Should I even be alive? Am I consuming too many resources that those who are alive should take priority for? Hey I thought, maybe writing a diary would help me rid of my depression over such a useless thing, so I shall be filling the pages of this book as of today!

So today, I had sweet potatoes for dinner. ^ ^

Doctor Mamare gets credit of being the nicest person in the world.

Oh! I think today might be the best day of my life, now that I think about it…

The time was… sometime after dusk, so anyhow, it’s dark outside.

I wish I could be outside. Doctor Mamare never lets me out. All I ever do is sit in this… rather comfy chair and daze through the window at those green grass, and trees, and colorful flowers, and blue sky, and so on…

   If I could wish for anything, it’d be to get out of here.

Hello again! this is Pawprint. I finally crawed my way to the

second update =__=

ok, so if you havn't realised already, this fic consists of TWO diary entries. One is dominant and the other not. (I think we all know which one's which.) LOL!

Please comment and tell me how my chapters are going. There's always this shade of gloom on top of my head when I press the update button >_> ...

*CLICK*

- 2 seconds later -  'AARRRHHHHHH!!! OHHH NOOO!! I POSTED IT!!'

above is what happens in my head pretty much every time ^