Hell didn’t really have boiling lakes of lava or pillars of fire, per se. Well, it sort of did. Hell is different for every person, actually. For some, they spend eternity in that awful Judeo-Christian version of things – all conflagrations and brimstone – but those were only the really hardcore believers who also happened to have done some really hardcore sinning in life. No, Hell is mainly just grey, blank, emptiness. Nor were sinners routinely flayed, tortured, dismembered, or other sundry punishments performed. For most people, it was just the aloneness that did them in. And it’s not that kind of alone where no one is home, or the kind where you feel like you’ve been abandoned by everyone you know and love, either. It is total, unfiltered, inescapable, and undeniable aloneness, because in those other situations, someone still cares somewhere. You still have a relative or a friend out in the world, or in the absolute worst case scenarios, even a stranger on the sidewalk might do you a kindness. But in Hell, no one cares. That’s what it is, the total absence of anyone caring – even God. And you can feel that. It’s an absence like a lost tooth or a dead family member, except you never really get used to it and time heals no wounds here. Hell, the damned don’t even care about themselves. Since most folks need to feel at least loved by God if no one else, the knowledge that He’s absent in their eternity drives them mad.
For Lucifer, Angel of Light, Son of the Morning, Hell was all that and a beam of light. It was like a tiny pinprick in a piece of black construction paper, and this light was all he wanted and exactly what he couldn’t have. That light, that tiny ray of light, came directly from Heaven. From Home. Or what used to be his home, anyway. It was a direct representation of God’s love and a reminder of the light he used to bask in, and that he’d lost when he rebelled (though he took that word ‘rebelled’ under the most extreme protest). And it was close. So very, very close. But always just out of reach. Hell had no boundaries, not only because it just didn’t work like that, but also because it would have been horribly impractical what with the insanely massive number of sinners up there over the millennia. But if it had a center, Lucifer’s palace would have been it. And in the center of his palace, just on the other side of an invisible barrier he could not cross stood that shaft of light. Oh, but it was maddening!
Only the worst of the worst get to spend eternity in the palace. The worse your sins, the closer to the light you were placed, and the worse the insanity its proximity to you caused. In fact, the only thing that even came close to that ever-out-of-reach light for Lucifer was the boredom. Oh sure, he was Ruler and Sovereign King of Hell (sooo many meaningless titles anymore) but that and a dollar would get you a cup of coffee. Technically the damned had to obey him, and technically they did, but so what? What could he want beyond that light? Nothing they did would matter anyway, they couldn’t make anything practical or anything that would ease their torment. And yes, technically he was in charge of “ensuring the damned came to be punished for the sins they committed” and all that, but again so what? He had tried to do that, but in the end the damned didn’t even give a crap. He’d started with the worst ones, the ones in the palace (they were the worst, but really he just hadn’t felt like walking that far – no wings anymore, you see) and he’d done some really awful things to them. Pound for pound, he made sure they’d gotten every bit as good as they’d given in life. And pound for pound, none of them could have been bothered to give a damn. Nothing was worse than realizing the utter pointlessness of your spiritual existence and knowing, for a fact, you’d been forgotten about.
To make matters worse, he hadn’t given a damn either. It WAS pointless, and it WAS his eternity. All because of an argument with Father. Ok, granted, an argument that had ended with swords and legions of dead angels, but c’mon! It hadn’t had to go down like that, and some of those guys were real assholes anyway. So, he’d tried it all to take the emptiness away. He was angry at first and raged all over the endless landscape of Hell, which just made him tired after a while. He’d tried (with some decent success mind you) to meddle in the affairs of humans, but got fed up with the pointlessness of it. Now they blamed everything on him, and some of it was amazingly stupid. Prince of Darkness (he was the Angel of Light!) Father of Lies? He never lied in his life! Which, maybe, he should have because then he might not be stuck here not giving a damn about lording it over the souls of people who didn’t give a damn. But sacrificing cats and dogs and goats? What the hell could he want with a goat? First off, it’s not like some guy kills a goat and ‘pop!’ there’s the friggin goat that Lucifer apparently wanted soooo much right there next to him in Hell saying, “Hey. How’s it going?” Second, if he wanted a goat that damn bad, presumably to keep the non-existent grass of Hell short, he’d just make one appear. And it wouldn’t give a damn either. He’d even tried to do all the nasty things the people up there said he did, because why not? He was getting accused of it anyway, and it’s not like it was going to get any worse for him since he was already in Hell. But it just wasn’t him, all that stuff. He never enjoyed evil or hateful or vile acts. He was many things, but most of all he was an angel. One of God’s First.
So, Lucifer pretty much left the government of the damned to the damned, and basically rotted away. Maybe, he’d been wrong to question Father. Maybe. Big Maybe…but what a fight! He’d hated to admit it to himself back then, he’d always maintained that if he could just talk to Father one more time and state his case then he’d throw in the towel if he decided to go on with His plan anyway, but he’d felt alive in the War. His sword shining, his armor bright as the sun itself. His wings, his glorious alabaster wings spread out on either side as he sped towards his rivals. Those were the good old days, with his Generals, his friends, surrounding him. Shame they couldn’t be brought back, and give this meaningless…well…Hell, a little bit of life and purpose.
Or…could they?