My father sent me to Hell

Welcome to Hell... Literally:

I stomped through the gates of Hell, eccentrically, eager to find my cousin and catch up. Wherever that douche-bag was...

"Judaaaas!" a voice chanted behind me. One I easily recognised to be the voice of my cousin, my default smirk now making it's way onto my face.

"Luuuc!" I chanted back, reaching to give him our usual bro hug, whenever we were meeting up.

I looked him up and down for changes, recently. My eyes trailed from his long and straight, platinum blonde hair, to his full shoulder muscles; his tight biceps and triceps to the chiselled eight pack that had practically been carved onto his rock hard chest. Shit! He's starting to look more hench than me... I need to work out more.

"Like what you see or something, cuz?" He said amused, a smirk across his face, making his cheekbones even more prominent. His sapphire eyes glinted with humour that was surely about burst from his system, any time soon.

"Yeah," I started, my voice full of envy "What did you do to get that?" I asked, pointing to the eight pack that poked out from his abdomen. "You using your powers for vanity again? You know they'll take 'em away from you, this time, don't you?" The smirk was on my face, now.

It's true, even Luc had rules he had to obey; he wasn't completely immune to rules, down here. A while ago, Luc was using his powers of a fallen-angel-become-a-ruler-of-the-underworld to gain himself riches and all the women he could want, his vanity and greed overpowering his evil mind. Anyway, of course my father felt the need to warn him that if he did so again, he would have no powers. Something about how powers are a gift or some shit.

I was quickly brought out of this daydream-like memory when Luc said "Yes I do know. Which is why, I'll have you know, I got these" he stated, pointing to the eight pack on his chest, emphatically "through some serious work out sessions, over a period of about three months."

You're probably shocked and confused right now. You're probably thinking "three months! Is that it?" and the answer, mortals, is this:
All immortal beings, especially high-ranking ones, have a hyper-fast metabolism, making speedy weightloss/muscle growth possible. But it also increases our appetites. For a mortal, the increase in appetite would purely be the need to increase one's caloric intake. For immortal beings, a large part of the increase in appetite is regarding our sexual appetite. It's gift and a curse.

I held my hands up with a fake apologetic expression, showing defeat. My usual smirk expressed on my lips. But this was our usual banter and so I felt no guilt at chuckling, heartily, with melodic laughter. The only type of laughter that was actually brought on by any sort of joy.

Actually this place seemed to bring out the best in me... or was it the worst? Hard to tell in a place overwhelmed with death and the decay of souls.

Regardless, there has always been something about the dark red lights, of the entrance, that seemed to absorb into the walnut coloured rock. Something about the way the new souls would stand at the entrance, every day, timidly shaking as they expected Hell to be some beast that would swallow them whole, within the day.

Well, in fairness, this only happened to particularly awful souls, such as murderers, rapists, arsonists and other evil psychopaths. Within a few hours, the other souls would realise that they weren't about to instantly die, and weren't quite as pathetic any more, coming out from hiding in their huts and conversing, freely, with each other.

This appeared to happen on a daily basis, as though it were an instinct for mortal beings. They had reason to be afraid, of course, their idea of Hell being the cells or the pit.

'The cells' is a nickname used by hell workers, for the long row of prison-like cells, enchanted to psychologically torture the prisoner with punishments to match their greatest sins, in life.

For example, someone who showed greed, in life, may be taunted with illusions of gold, money, and other items of high monetary value. But they would be just that - illusions. Should the prisoner try to grasp the items, their hands would slip through their illusion, like mist.

Another example might be that a drug addict who did not admit their sins before death would forever be reaching for the illusion of their desired drug, placed in the centre of their cell, but never able to grasp it.

But bad souls only went to the cells, if they didn't repent, and only the really really bad ones got the pit.
'The pit' refers to an inescapable crater, where the soul would be mercilessly thrown, only to be eaten alive by whichever demonic creature my cousin would so choose.

I sometimes think about what the last thing they'd see would be. Would it be the never-ending height of the brown rock walls that surrounded them? Or the face of just one other demonic creature my cousin keeps in his lair? Or would it be something more profound, like their whole life, past lives included, flashing before their eyes? I sometimes wonder...

But not that often. 

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Slumping onto the bed, my cousin had  a maid prepare for me, I sank into the mattress, covered by black silk sheets. I started to let the tiredness take hold of me and was just about to fall asleep when-

"JUDAS, WAKE UP!" Luc screamed down my lug-hole. I groaned out my tiredness, rolling onto my stomach to cover my ears with my recently fluffed pillow. "Dude, get up." he said, picking the pillow out from under my head and hitting me with it.

I mumbled something along the lines of "Five more minutes" in my slumber-induced stupor. Luc was about to hit me with the pillow, again, but I threw my arm out the covers, grabbed the pillow and put it back under my head, all fast enough that Lucifer barely even had time to stop me.

"Judas do you want a fucking party, or not?!" Luc exclaimed, energetically. Those words had an immediate effect on my body, awakening every nerve and fibre of my being. What can I say? I love a good party. 

I practically launched myself off the bed, heading straight for the shower and then the closet to look for something decent to wear. Luc had all my stuff shipped over here, so I didn't need to go and look for anything to wear.