Can you imagine what it was like? Ten billion years spent providing a place for dead mortals to torture themselves? And like all masochists they called the shots. “Burn me.” “Freeze me.” “Eat me.” “Hurt me.” and we did…They talk of me going around buying souls like a fishwife come market day, never stopping to ask themselves why. I need no souls. And how can anyone own a soul? No they belong to themselves. They just hate to have to face up to it.
They used to call the Devil the father of lies. But for someone whose sin is meant to be pride, you’d think that lying would leave something of a sour taste. Too easy. Too sleazy. Too much of a cowards tool. So my theory is that when the Devil wants to get something out of you, he doesn’t lie at all. He tells you the exact, literal truth. And he lets you find your own way to hell.