Snippet #1640221

Hell's Steward.
The 9th Circle of Hell.

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"Hotter you thrice accursed mongrel! You can't have flesh slough off bone without it being hotter! Damn you all, I should burn you along with them and be done with it!" bellowed the massive creature from it's throne of skulls. Sulfur and steam dominated the air, scorched earth and magma the floor. With a deep breath of anger, Vlak, the Prime of the Demyans and Keeper of the Seat of Suffering took in a large dose of that foul miasma which permeated hell and tried for the tenth time to not tear his underlings apart. As he continued to yell and berate, countless lesser demyans scurried about underfoot in a frantic effort to meet the demands of their taskmaster. His twenty feet tall frame upon a throne of bones, a good three feet of that gory horns, barbed tail lashing, and seven angels tied to stakes beneath him ready to be sacrificed. More or less the same image countless idiots would paint in the Middle World and display in Her churches. As always, Vlak had to stifle a chuckle at the irony of how right they were.

"M-m-m-masteeer. Th-th-the F-f-fiery br-brew izhh r-r-ready." groveled some underling or another to Vlak as he pondered whether or not to gift His Workship with the wings of the angels. Since time immemorial a garrison of Angels had been kept in Hell, to gather those souls bound to Heaven, or The Great Farce as Vlak liked to call it. It would be sweet news to deliver to Him. No longer would Angels be tolerated in His domain. For now on, all mortal souls belonged to Him. For now on, All mortals would burn in hell.

"Good. Roast them. Actually, you over there! I want to smell burning feathers before I'm done snacking." bellowed Vlak as his powerfully clawed hand snatched the nearest demyan and squeezed. A quick snack accompanied by the lilting dying screams of what many believed to be creatures superior to his ilk. Vlak was most pleased.

"Save the bones for Cerb, and make sure you idiots don't get eaten when you go feed him. It's getting tiresome having to replace your worthless hides. Hell has truly gone to hell I swear...I ought to go up and cull the numbers a bit...again, but no time, no time...." droned a pensive Vlak as he slipped into the fiery depths of Hell, to that place where only he, Them, and Him could go. The stage was set. It was time to prepare for His Master's servant.