Lamia touched the bloody brow of her summoner one more time, regret filtering her features. After her ascension she had had hope that the contract might be completed; so it had, but not by the means she had once hoped for. So she turned to the demon waiting by the door, another woman to another, and said "I thought thou were a goodly woman, kuchisake-onna. Where has that goodliness gone?"

To which the demon in the doorway said in High Enoch, the tongue of named demons and angels, "I was never a goodly woman" and turned away, leaving the other with her summoner. Lamia bent forward and whispered to the corpse softly, tenderly:

"So if you find nothing in the corridors, Jezebel, open the doors, if you find nothing behind these doors, there are more floors, and if you find nothing up there, don’t worry, just leap up another flight of stairs. As long as you don’t stop climbing, the stairs won’t end, under your feet they will go on growing upwards."

Advice was all that she could give, ascended now and Named. Gone was her right to take the child's soul and escort it to the secret places of Hell; the girl would have to go herself, lost and alone, the way she had always lived in life. In the unnamed there was no need for pity or compassion, no need to understand, but when someone walks into Hell with you and doesn't flinch, they deserve love. Lamia had found her- redemption?- in the summoner she had so despised.

She slithered away, following the kuchisake-onna to her new abode. No more summoner for Lamia- just another dead child, new eyes, and allegiance to one who didn't deserve it.

Rest in peace, vengeful child.

‘Just think, they never sleep!’
‘And why not?’
‘Because they never get tired.’
‘And why not?’
‘Because they’re fools.’
‘Don’t fools get tired?’
‘How could fools get tired!’