Lucifer

Living in the dead gaze of a hollow god, the ground beneath me is nothing. I eat the flesh of the living to satisfy the craving for death, all the while basking in the internal glory of filth. The moon is a rock, the sun is an abstract, and all the little creatures scurrying about have no purpose. There is no place for us in the great beyond; even the greatest were self degrading, and we are no saints here. Spit in the eyes of death, and you will see that there is nothing there, your being being an illusion for those on high to joke about. Leave this place fulfilled, secure in the knowledge that life is a river flowing over a cliff and down into the cesspool that breeds pestilence to annoy. Automatons are useful and usable; the rest are mere window dressing, catering to the tastes of the low life class. Hell will always be here, waiting for you to change your tune.

Next Chapter: So Long