Fallen

A dark, ominous fortress looms upwards, its peak radiating a spiral of what can be described in the English language only as pure blackness. If one were to gaze in from the outside of this void, all they would see is darkness. There is really no possible way to describe this black energy, except as I already have. The skies above this fortress, and in all the areas surrounding it, are a deep colour of red. The deep, metallic red that is also the colour of thick blood. It is always raining here, and the rain is the same colour as the skies, but more defined. Here, it rains blood. One would think that the blood rain would quench the fires, but it never does. Very few have seen the inside of the fortress, but there are many rumours about what it holds in its keep. Most say that it houses the souls of thousands of people, damned to the worst possible way to spend eternity. Damned to stay in the very house of Satan. I don't believe that. The fortress is nowhere near large enough to have so many people inside of it.

Though his housings remain a mystery, he has ensured that everyone here knows who he is, and why they are here. Lucifer is nothing like what they tell you in school, or in the movies. No, in fact, he's much worse. Most likely the worst things about him are his wings. They stretch out for about thirty feet each. They are solid black, with traces of the feathers that used to make them so beautiful still showing in small patches. However, instead of a reminder of what he used to be, these feathers serve more as a profanity to the beauty of the true angels. Instead of soft, his wings are leather-like and rough. If the tip of one of them just barely touches you, it will cut. Placed upon his head, in a mockery of the crown of thorns, he wears a crown of skulls. The skulls are strewn together with the very sinew that held the heads to the rest of the bodies. Each skull has a spike, carved out of some other bone and held in place by means I am not aware of, placed on its forehead. He doesn't really have horns or the legs of a goat, or anything like that. He has, aside from the terrible wings, a normal looking body. He wears no clothing, but in his left hand is a whip. The handle of this whip is made of bone, and the thongs are made of fire. In his right hand he holds a staff, embroidered with black diamonds. The staff is made of pieces of flesh sewn together with hair. Enough about him though. He doesn't deserve even enough glory to take up this much of this parchment.

As I look overhead, I see another hole appear in the skies. A scream can be heard, and after a couple of seconds the body falls through. It plummets towards the ground, but the ground moves like it always does so that his fall may be even more painful than it already would have. After he lands, the ground throws him up into the pits. His body is an open carcass, yet, of course, you can still see his heart beating. You can still see his lungs taking breath. You can still hear as he tries to scream. The pits ever-burning fire quickly burn away all of his flesh, but it heals fast. It always does. The fires back away from his tattered, burnt body and wait. Once every bit of his skin has almost completely healed, they leap forward and surround him once more. This goes on for about ten years. After that long, you can start to ignore the pain. Once the fires are satisfied that they have tortured you long enough, they will push you into the next area of the pits. Here, wild animals and beasts, most of which have never been seen on the face of the mortal world, will have their way with you. They will tear at your flesh in hunger, only for it to grow back again. You can wish for death all you want, but you're already dead. You can ask forgiveness from the Good Lord, but it's too late for that to matter. These wild beasts will chase you for years and no matter how fast or far you run, they will always catch you. Sometimes one of the animals will eat away an entire limb from your body, but within the next day it will be intact, and all you will feel is the sharp and steady gnawing of teeth upon your skin and bones. The only escape from this portion of the pits is too give up. Once the animals can't chase you because you're not running their fun will be over, and they will drag you to the final stage of the pits. Here, you will be crucified much like Christ himself. six times. First, you will be banded about the eyes so that you cannot see, and brutally beaten. The blindfold will then be removed, and Satan himself will give you forty lashes with his own whip. One of the many demons inhabiting this place will step forward and give you forty more lashes, only this time using a flagellum with small lead balls attached to the ends of each thong. This flagellum will strip your entire back of flesh within the first fifteen blows. A crown of long, sharp thorns will then be shoved far down around your head. This crown is never removed, but worn for the rest of eternity as a reminder of who now owns you. The same demon that whipped you earlier now steps forward, and in his hands you see a large hammer and three large wrought iron nails, covered in rust. No matter how much you struggle, there is no escaping what comes next. One nail is driven through each wrist, and the last through the arch of both of your feet. Finally, a spear is forced in between two of your ribs, and shoved upwards into your still beating heart. It is done. You are released, and then the entire thing starts over. After this has been done for the sixth and final time, you are thrown out of the pits and have officially become one of Satan's slaves.

The last wounds that were inflicted never heal all the way, but just enough for you to function properly. Once you've fallen in from the skies, no food or drink will ever pass between your lips. However, every night, all must stand and watch as Lucifer fills himself with a feast not even plausible on earth. After a while, you get used to all of this. The only thing that never gets better is having to hear the screams of the recently damned. There is no such thing as sleep here, but exhaustion quickly fades to a memory. All there really is to do is wait. The king of this place has promised us all that we will soon be loosed upon the earth that we have come from, able to take out our vengeance for everything that anyone has ever done to us. There are millions of us here, and we are all waiting. We can sense that our wait is soon to come to an abrupt end, and may God himself have mercy on those who cross our paths when that time comes.