She nods and continues to think, expression dark with concentration. It twists an already unlovely into a gruesome thing. She usually uses it to be imposing. Now it's just a byproduct of unsettling thoughts.

"With or without the demon, I'm already going to Hell." She says it with a forward, if tired, decisiveness; she'll hear no argument. "I'm not afraid of what it'll do to my soul or any of that shit. I don't wanna die, but I'm not gonna let it use me to hurt you." She adds in a quick afterthought, "or other people."

Such a compassionate little whore, a voice whispers in the back of her mind.

She ignores it. "You gotta promise to kill me if shit gets out of hand. If I'm in danger of killing people or hurting them. You have my guns. You know how to use 'em?"