Angel's Weren't Meant To Be Slaves. Welcome To Hell, Master. *Completed*

[03] A Living Hell

Edited

[Story Start]

Victoria's P.O.V.

Everyone's idea of what Hell is or what Hell looks like is different.

Some may think it is simply a dark abyss where you will wander around hopelessly for the rest of eternity.

Others will say that Hell is a fiery pit where demons and horrible creatures will torture and beat you as you work to keep the fire blazing, which is constantly eating away at your flesh.

No matter what the idea or fabrication is, the point is that you may never leave and it is a dreadful place to ever be if you are not one of the creatures of Hells depths.

Hell is essentially this, a dark never ending space of a dark and painful abyss. In the center was its palace. It is entirely made of stone and larger than any building man has ever seen. There are torches all about that light it's dark domain, the fire coming from the life that is Hell itself.

The stone, so old and worn out, is starting to crumble in places such as bridges and pathways that go over the dark abyss or the red river of dead souls, lava and fire.

It is not in any way a welcoming place to outsiders.

In the dark and dirty corners of the palace you may find dying demons that are going mad with anger and are decaying as deaths icy grip is pulling them inside of it.

The inside of the Palace in most places looks simply like the inside of a cave. The roof was covered in low hanging rock spears that threatened to drop at any moment and pierce through a body.

Underneath all of this was something sort of like a torture chamber, a prison if you will. Large demons that had goat heads, claw shaped hands and feet and decaying skin that may sometimes be on fire, were the guards of that place. Always carrying a whip or some sort of weapon that they used to beat the human souls and lower demons to do their bidding.

This may all disgust you. But that's just how it is, and to be honest, I like it the way it is. It proves that not everything in this God forsaken life is good. There is bad in the world. One small mistake and you are here, and that is all you deserve. Nothing more and nothing less.

And this is where I am now. It is one of those times where I come and stay here for a while, as it is the one place where I, along with all of the other Fallen, do not age past our perfection point.

Walking across the old beat up bridge that linked a sub part of the palace, where all of the Fallen and more important Fallen angels lived, to the main central part of the Palace where you would find Lucifer's humble abode and his idea of a throne and lords room, I was brought to a state of sadness.

Were I not a being with wings, one little slip off the edge, which would not be too difficult with this bridges current condition, and I could be lost forever. I smirked. I am too good for that. Hell is a part of me; I can feel its fiery life force burning inside the deepest recesses of my core. How could I hate something that is a big part of who I am?

In the distance I could hear Hells fire as it consumed souls and burned in it's constant wrath. I could hear the sounds of human souls screaming as the demons roared and snapped their weapons of torture and struck them.

But that was more just background noise. Something you got accustomed to hearing and found it stranger when it was silent.

Besides that, all I could hear were my own thoughts and the soft clicking of my knee high black boots that went over my tight black leggings that hung low off my hips, which was paired with my black lace corset.