These dark, deserted lands.

One can feel a presence.

A presence of evil.

One can smell the smell of death.

One can barely see,

in these thick, foggy, deserted lands.

When in these lands, one does not want to see.

One does not want to see the hideous sites.

Most of all,

One does not want to hear.

To hear the screams,

of The Damned.

To hear the laughs,

of amused Daemons.

For One realizes,

they are in Hell.