Disclaimer: In actuality, I have no religion and I wrote this for the sheer, well, Hell of it. I do not necessarily support all of the views shown in this drabble. Please forgive me if I offend you. I'd just also like to state that even though the word 'fool' is used variably six times, including this one, I do not think you are an idiot. Oh, and please leave a review.

Hell.

Hell is insufferably known for its tolerance of the wicked and the damned. Oh, but what is to become of these theives? They are knighted, that's what. They're afterliven destiny far surpasses yours. The inestimable amounts of electrifying agony scorching your netherbody comes from them shoving blue-hot prongs into your body, and turning it like a key, slowly, slowly.

Do not be fooled.

Hell is much worse than the paragraph above.

At night, you sleep on the ground, staring up at the stars above you. You reach for the sky, fat tears splashing onto your trembling, fleshy cheeks, knowing that you can never reach them as you thought you once could. You can never reach for your stars and achieve your dreams. You can nevr reach that one, God, and transcend your death. You can not. All you can do is lie there and cry dry tears that evaporate as soon as they leave your puffy eyes. There's a slug on your foot. Yes, a big one. It's slightly smaller than your sneaker. Gross, right?

Now it's near your ear. Now it's slithering inside you... now it's wiping your insides, to hollow you and make you numb for the next day. A netherbody is a horrible thing to waste.

You know you deserve it, and you've no reasonable fort of truth behind your objective quibblings. It is your fault. It is all your fault. It's ALL... YOUR... your... FAULT! All your fault. I mean it, really truly. After all, it was you. You did it, you know. You denied him, the one, the one who could save you. You FORGOT him. You sickening being who thought yourself inwardly beautiful and pure - your insides were black! How could you not see the small demons living inside you!? You were such a fool! Why did you deny it? Deny what?? The miracle! The miracle, you fool, the one thing that could've saved you and everything else that surrounds you down in the Bad Angel's heaven. After all, I believe that when you have truly experienced a miracle, gratitude and faithfulness are sorely inept to describe the heavy burden of your recompense owed to God. I believe that, that burden doesn't weigh anything, as the love we've forgotten diminishes into tiny fragments of dust.

Is that all that remains of our Lord!? Is that all that we care about, is ourselves!? Are we so low, so vile!?

I believe that we, as this realm's beings of reason, have self-esteemed ourselves so high as to have our head in the clouds without our hearts. Too soon do we forget that we owe the Lord for that miracle.

There is no excuse for this! There is nowhere you can hide from it, from the mystic substance that is God. It smothers you, a tangible gooze, warning you that you should be heeding his call. That this miracle is and has been publicized in every hallways in every dwelling across God's green earth only further besmirches your timorous, tinny-sounding alibis. And I believe that deep below your quaking legs lies the Black God you have, deplorably, cherished without realization. Underneath you, Lucifer is laughing at us with anticipation, knowing that he is growing with obscene power with every century that passes by. His power is growing!! And so is your lack of faith! You FOOL! Don't you know what's coming? Now that you have tried to deny death, deny sin, and deny every black-hearted thing you've ever done? You think you can just die, and wipe that all away with holy water, put on a radiant smile, and Saint Peter will let you through? Saint Peter has been fired! God has no use for him; there are so little of your kind trickling through those holy gates that he has no use for him. Everyone's forgotten.

I believe that this miracle you have forgotten is the crucifixtion of Christ, you fool. You forgot to pray. You forgot to declare your love for him, your savior, your most cherished martyr.

And most importantly, you forgot to say thank you.

Now, please turn around while I shove these prongs through your body. It's my job, you know. And it's SO fun. Do you even know how fun? Of course not... You worthless little sinner, rejected by God and rejected by Lucifer, and doubly rejected by greedy me. Turn around.

It's fun...