Depression is the Devil

Depression is the Devil

By Cameron Stewart

“Better to rein in Hell than serve in Heaven”

-John Milton, Paradise Lost

For Michelle, you share the same love and passions as me. You are a wonderful friend.

Preface: Paradise Prep.

            Mr. Maz was a seasoned teacher. He had been at this discrete divine place longer than he would care to remember. His students thought of him as somewhat of a recluse. They all knew that Maz had a story, but few knew of it or even cared.

            If it weren’t for his semi-authoritarian position, poor Mr. Maz would be completely irrelevant, making his very existence pointless. Indeed he had made academic principles and achievements that could never be equaled again for as long as Paradise Preparatory School remained one of the Verse’s finer learning institutions. His position was one of stature, but the board only let him maintain it due to past glory that had long soared into obscurity. In essence he was only able to keep his job out of respect from his colleagues. His students certainly felt little or none for him.

            So it was on a cold night of the winter solstice that Maz, graded papers as his chain smoked in solitary melancholy as was usual, that he contemplated leaving. It was not an idea of leaving his career, it he could even call it that. It seemed more of a prison now. Where would he go after this? He already held an outstanding position at the most important Prepitory school. It was the idea of ending it all. He sipped a warm glass of Gin, the ice long since melted, as Maz was a very slow drinker but indeed a deep thinker. He checked the cylinder of his revolver, it was loaded with six .44 slugs, but he only needed one. But never one to leave a task unfinished he graded his last essay.

            After entering in the grades, Maz reflected upon the papers, thinking of their unoriginality and nerve to claim that with which he first argued. Damn all, evil had triumphed, plagiarism. He pressed the revolver to his temple and it was done. The influence all but forgotten led him to believe he wanted no part anymore in anything at all. Better to be blown away at once with a little dignity than fade to complete obscurity. And Ahura Mazda left eternity only to claim mere mortality.

            His obituary was printed but read by nearly no one. His existence now ceased along with his relevance. Nobody came to his funeral nor seemed to care. But at least he died with his dignity, knowing that none of this was possible without him. It was what it was. This is all that the School paper had to say:

           

Paradise Post

Adherra Mazda, creator of monotheism and Zoroastrianism left us suddenly but not unexpectedly. His contributions to Paradise Prepitory School are undeniable.  It is with sorrow but ease that we grief the passing of this outstanding fellow, Mr. Maz left no survivors.

“For heaven sake, I’m not evil just morally ambiguous”. Lucifer said with an obvious smile. Although sarcastic it did seem to be sincere.

 Jehovah looked at Lucifer in wonderment but shook his head. “You’re evil, you don’t conform to the rules therefore you are not righteous “.

Luci leaned against the wall, scraped a match and lit his cigarette. He had the boyish smirk on his face that showed he was well within his comfort zone. Luci’s comfort zone seemed to be everywhere. If anyone could talk solely out of his ass it was him. Many students at Paradise Prep seemed to have a few cute tricks, and many often wondered if Lucifer could actually spit words out of his backside.

Lucifer looked serious but passionate. “How was I supposed to know to raise my hands first, before speaking out?”

“You should have read the handbook, you did sign the contract”.

“Why should I read something, I’m not going to obey anyway, it I think that’s stupid”.

“Whatever, I gotta head to ethics class, you should come, you might learn some values”. Jehovah strutted back to class. He was a straight A student, and appeared to be the most promising member of his class.

“You in for tonight Brahms”? Lucifer said as he was staggering off to some activity that all could assume wasn’t school related.

Brahma shrugged, “I think so, but, what goes around comes around”.  Brahma was an interesting character; he liked to look the part for whatever activity it may be. He was a nice enough guy but a bit strange for the majority of his classmates. His peers treated him with respect but he felt it was more indifference. Whatever though it didn’t matter, Brahms as he was often called, was completely contempt doing his own thing. If others wanted to join that was fine, but if they didn’t that was fine too. So one could assume, that this was to imply that Brahma wasn’t the least bit interested in whatever shindig Lucifer had put together tonight.

“Well that was that”, Luci thought to himself as Jehovah went to class, and Brahma left to whatever it was he left too. Tonight is going to be good, and who gives a damn if those two show or not? Luci smiled to himself, he was going to have fun and that was all that mattered.

Even with his selfishness, and deliberate image he put out for all to see, Luci had a best friend, one he thought of as his brother, the only other equal to himself. Even with all there differences they got along famously. The best friend of Lucifer, was Jehovah. Luci had insecurities that made him put a deliberate bad boy image. This was who he wanted all to know him as. He did this to cover up his own weaknesses and fears. So that night when his best friend, failed to show to his “get together” in the woods, Luci took it hard.

“You’re good”, a the girl laying next to him still panting said. They had made love next beside a giant oak tree, secluded in beauty a way off in the woods. The cracking of the bonfire, and laughter could still be heard from their present location.

This made the little devil blush. “I know”, said Luci, the girl was not so bad, he had had better, but she was satisfactory. The good fuck aside, the distraction was done, and Luci, was angry, for the painful reminder that for all he knew his brother had not shown sunk in.

He pulled on his pants, buttoned his shirt and started to walk off, the girl was still laying on a bedding of moss beside the tree. She seemed to have fallen fast asleep.

“Where are you goin now?” The girl said with a yawn as she rolled over and stretched her arms”.

“To get more wine, you want any?” Why he asked her baffled him, he didn’t intend to bring her back anything, much less spend any more time in her presence tonight anyway. He didn’t wait for her answer. Luci walked back in the hope of seeing his best friend had made it by.

“Jehovah made it over yet?” Luci asked. He knew the answer but hoped he was wrong, by some inconcievible way.

“What do you think?” Apollo replied with a tone of sarcasm in his voice.

“His loss then”.

With that that reply Lucifer was angry, he was upset that his friend had not come, he had thought that his friend would not neglect him again, but he was wrong. His feelings were hurt. The Devil to be felt betrayed, the friendship of the two had always been on the terms of one. Lucifer was tired. He valued the friendship, and Jehovah was as a brother to him, but he could take no more. In the years to come they were pleasant to each other and still recalled themselves friends, but either one knew that neither felt the same.

They would graduate from school. Lucifer continued his path of partying and self-indulgence, somehow managed to graduate. He probably cheated his way through. The two continued to slowly drift apart, although Jehovah gave his old friend a job when he entered the metaphysical business. But as a certain book says, Lucifer doesn’t take well to authority. And thus a friendship turns to rivalry.

Chapter one

It was the crossroads, always the damn crossroads, the handsome stranger thought to himself. It was nearly midnight. "Why does this always go down at such an inconvenient hour?" Christ, he thought to himself, he needed a new damn secretary. He smacked a mosquito, not out of anger for drawing his blood but out of pure principle,

It was August, yet he was bundled from head to toe. He wore a Fedora and a stylish Leather trench coat over a gray pin stripe suit. Rather carelessly tossed about his neck, was a silk scarf. He had Italian loafers. On his I-pod he listened to Chicken Soup for the Soul, as he chain smoked Camel hundreds. He waited, still waited. "At least I'm my own boss", was the only thought he had, when shit didn't go as he wanted it too. Why was he cursed with such incompetent subordinates?

Just than the woman approached. She seemed cold yet very elegant; she had exotic beauty with a dangerous cocktail of intelligence and class. She had dark hair, pale skin, piercing blue eyes, and rose red lips. She wore a red evening gown, though why she did so in the middle of the desert he pondered in his mind.

Lucifer, tried to recover from a very obvious blush upon his face when he saw her. He failed. She smiled and winked her eyes at him. But as soon as she did this, she took on a mood of indifference and annoyance toward him.

"Well, what do want?" He said with force.

"I want to be damned; I seek no selfish indulgence for myself, but want only the comfort of knowing my predestination".

"Why not follow the book?" Lucifer shrugged and said.

She replied “what fun is there in that"?

Lucifer gave the girl, who now called herself a "Duchess" a sly look and shrugged. "          Who am I to question your ill-conceived right to damn yourself?' Beyond her looks, indeed she was as fine a female as ever he had seen, he felt something nagging at him. He was lost; it wasn't lust, for the devil had two emotions, lust and sorrow. He knew those well, and was a master manipulator. Yet he never lied to himself. He did steal, kill, and torture. That was all a psychological wall he had built around his own insecurities. This drove him mad, though she had only entered his immortal life just minutes ago; it felt like an all knew circle of the inferno. The Devil was in love.

"Why are you concerned? You're the Prince of Darkness; you're supposed to love having a new soul in your din. This is almost too easy for you, is that it?" The blue eyes pierced through him, he felt hotter than that of the lake of fire where he had dwelled for millennia. He felt she knew all there was about him. When he felt his mystery fleeting, he typically felt angry, but this wasn't that. Was this happiness?

"I'm not" He answered curtly but not impolitely. "It’s a power of attorney thing". He could have kicked himself for that lame excuse. But the Duchess was in a new realm of reality, one that you only knew if you set out to get there and who was she to question his judgment. “Are you certain you seek nothing in your mortal life?" He could have kicked himself, for he feared he betrayed that he cared, loved, and wanted the best for the girl.

"What I want is to burn. If I wanted a handout, I would speak to a Politian, not some metaphysical authority". This cold response, made Lucifer feel even more sorrow. He hid this behind an emotional blockade of deliberate indifference. This was just another deal, just another soul. It wasn't his first rodeo; the Prince of Darkness placated himself in his thoughts. It was deal with Devil, and nothing more, just another soul in his keeping. Or was it?

The deal was done, she signed it in blood. Her name was Eliza Grey. She had a troubled life; “The Duchess” was an alias. She was professional con artist. She had morals though. This was not a conscious choice take up this life of crime but one of desperation. She was a good girl forced to do bad to get by. Could this have been punishment on herself? Had she felt the need to damn herself out of terrible guilt rather than seek forgiveness?

The Devil sipped Scotch and smoked in the already laconically smoky place that was hell. He pondered these last questions. Not only did he feel love, but humility. It was strange to feel empathy. He had not felt such a thing since Mick Jagger wrote that ballad. He would never know how true those words of “Beggar’s Banquet” were.

Beelzebub, Lucifer, Prince of Darkness, the Devil, now felt even guilt. He had not felt this since before the rise of man. Perhaps it had been lingering in his self-conscious, somewhere behind all of the gloom and depression. But he was certain of it now. He had tempted Eve, casting both her and Adam from Paradise with a smile upon his face, and even felt victorious. Not even all of the wars, phamon, and anarchy had gotten to him. It was a lone girl. He felt they were not so different she and him. He began to examine his life.

Chapter 2

The back story

Like an adolescent boy, that is really how he the Prince of Darkness felt about himself. He had numerous insecurities that would make great television, were he not in a metaphysical form of existence, but in reality he could be rich. It was true that he had an abundance of souls to do his bidding. This didn’t substitute for the beauty of mortality and what you can achieve in a mere 75 years or so.

He had be an Angel of great beauty. He had the ear of god personally. His influence was like no others in Heaven. The only being above him was God, an employer who never really gave his name, but just another question when asked. “I am what I am”. What the hell kind of answer was that he would think to himself. Although he felt that God, or whatever you wish to address him by was tremendously arrogant, he felt he was fair. That last part described his willingness for a time to serve him.

It wasn’t even so much the fact that when God created man, it was in his own image that Lucifer took issue with. It was the fact that he had nowhere else to advance. He was as his favorite troubadour said “A man of wealth and taste”. He had nowhere to else to go, and to this day, he has felt that no greater hell can exist than the end of ambition.

He may be stuck in eternal damnation, but at least he could do what he wanted, and had influence. He wasn’t cast aside like some useless old toy, by an unappreciative child. It was a game, and he loved to play it.

Man had just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, and made easy pickings for him. The devil as mentioned earlier envied, and secretly admired man. His manipulation of him and temptation was mostly to pass the time, and any excuse was a good one to escape the inferno. Hell wasn’t terrible because Lucifer hated man, but because the Devil hated himself. Those damned just happened to be so at the wrong time. This condition has lasted for thousands upon thousands of years. And even The Devil hated it, but not as much as he did himself.

Although he felt personally wronged by god, he felt he had stepped too far, Humanity had been created by that Supreme Being just like himself. He could blame mankind for arriving later for himself. He did publically but not in his own mind. After all he had appearances to keep up. H had made his bed with god and would be contempt “in this shithole”, was it not for the guilt he felt about his deeds and words towards the Human race. This was the root of all his evil. These were his real demons. Everything else was merely a façade. The entire Devil wanted was someone to tear it all down.

“Eliza, hurry up god damnit!” It was her grandfather who called. She hated him. All she wanted to do was run away, but she knew she couldn’t for her mother was very ill. The country side where she lived was stunning, she grew up in Clifden, a peaceful town in one of the very most beautiful parts of Ireland. Everything seemed in harmony except for this. Her grandfather adored his daughter, Eliza’s very sick mother who was HIV positive. He blamed Eliza’s dead father for this abused his Eliza.

“I’m coming,” she announced with tears in her eyes as she ran to his cottage. What would it be today? Would he beat her? Rape her? Or would he give her a begrudging gift?  The last thing he only did to placate his beloved terminal daughter. She kissed her girlfriend Shannon good-bye as she ran up the hill to her own hell.

When Eliza entered the cottage of her grandfather, she didn’t feel sorrow this time. It was a feeling of hate. It was a deep, dark, need to destroy the old bastard. She didn’t like this feeling, she was even ashamed of it yet on this day she embraced it. This wasn’t planned. But today she was going to kill her grandfather.

Eliza didn’t know of this until she was beckoned into the bed room of her grandfather. It was a dark, nasty place, not just because of the abuse there, but also he wasn’t the tidiest of fellows. In fact he was far from. Whiskey bottles were cluttered about the room. There were two or three ash trays each one over flowed with discarded cigarette butts. The room seemed to have a permanent cloud of smoke that made it look even more evil. A black mold grew across the walls. The only light seemed to radiate from an antiquated black and white television set.

“Come in here Lass”. The beast had said. He was in the closet. Grandfather would do these things to Eliza in the closet, for he didn’t want his beloved dying daughter to overhear these things. Tonight he was in a good mood. He was going to rape her. Eliza only knew now that it was on this day that it would stop. Enough, she suddenly thought.

She grabbed an empty bottle of Brandy. She went into the dark cluttered closet. As the felt her soon to be dead man’s hand grope for her, she turned suddenly and violently. She broke the bottle over his head. With the broken bottle she rammed it between his naked legs. He screamed in agony. The pain was so great he didn’t even think to fight back. Eliza felt a smile come across her face she was free.

Reality had struck her, she had to run. That was all she could do, and so she fled without thinking of where she would go, abandoning her newly gelded grandfather on the floor. She ran out of the cottage, through the bogs and into the hills. She was now a fugitive. She had no money, little educations. But she did have wits and intelligence. She was street smart.

Eliza had left all she knew behind, she knew there was no going back, nor did she want too. Everything there had caused pain. Her dying mother, that evil old man, and all that she knew. Even her lover Shannon was painful to be around. She knew that whenever she would see Shannon, she would only see her as her outlet to escape from her grandfather. It was nothing more than a need for feminine compassion. Although she loved her, Eliza knew that was more than she could bear. Her life here and with all that she had ever known was over. It was time for a fresh start.

“I love you”, the Duchess of Bambridge, Elizabeth Cunningham said to her fiancé. It had been eight years since she had gone by the name Eliza Grey. Eliza was dead. Everything in that life was irrelevant now. She had adopted new personas and worked them like the finest puppeteer. “Kiss me”, her fiancé, Robert Carey replied. And she did.

They met at the Savoy Grille. Robert had hired the place out for his latest rally. He had come from nothing, and seemed to have made everything. Robert seemed to be one of the Labor Party’s rising stars. He was confident, inspirational, and handsome. He was also tremendously arrogant behind closed doors. This is what drew The Duchess to him. She was a predator and he was her prey. And yet, somehow the pompous ass thought it was the other way around.

“Tomorrow I join the aristocracy”, Robert chuckled with as much pride in his voice as amusement. He held her tight, with all his faults, he loved her. She would never escape from his passion.

“Till death do us part dear”. The Duchess of Bambridge had a smile across her face, for she was going to take this arrogant fool for all that he had. Robert made the life-altering error of mistaking this for her love for him. If anything she despised him.

“Shall we go to bed?”

“Its ill luck my love on the day before we are wed”.

“I suppose you’re right” Robert grunted.

And with that brief exchange, they departed each-other’s company, and went to bed, in their separate chambers. Tomorrow was a big day. Robert was going get married, Elizabeth Monroe, widowed trophy wife of a Duke, was accumulating more wealth. She could retire now, and her husband to be, after a brief marriage would be ruined. A little evil would accomplish a greater good.

Chapter 3

It went south. The plan had been a failure, Robert had been corrupt sure, but the British Media loved him, he was their boy. He had very powerful friends. So when Eliza had offered a to sell at tape that contained the planning of Political sabotage as well as his closeted sexual deviance, not only were the tapes not bought, but before she could contact another buyer in America, he husband got word. Jerry Kotwitz, a media mogul in Europe as well as a college friend of Robert notified the ticket to retirement for Eliza. She had no choice but to run. She was out of alias, he had all the cards except one, her accrual identity.

Damian Diable sat in the comfortable office of his favorite shrink, who knew more than most in his field and was damn good at his job. Mr. Diable thought the only thing the good Doctor, Roger Robertson did not know was that he was in fact Lucifer, the Devil.

“Fuck, you’re tormented. What you need to do is seek forgiveness. I don’t know for what, but you seek it for something”. Robertson said sitting legs crossed, and glasses sitting on the tip of his nose. “Perhaps one day you will tell me what you are guilty about?”

“Maybe just maybe”. And with that the session was done. Mr. Diable departed the office of the good Doctor for hell. He paid in cash, always in cash.

“We gotta dance!” It was Lilith that said this. She loved to dance and she would lay with anyone and everyone. Hell wasn’t agony for all, but Lilith would bring misery to all. Satan was the Prince of Darkness, but Lilith brevetted herself “The Queen of Lust”.

“I rule here, you fucking tramp!” The Devil hated her; she was Adams first wife, and the only woman to have seduced him. They had children together, and he had loved her once. But that love had fleeted long ago.

“You do all that you can stay out of this shit hole and leave me here, while you go and get more souls, that I have to tend to because you are out all the time, tempting man”. She hissed this at him. Although she had a passionate rage of a response, she did not stop dancing. She was stripped half naked, her breasts exposed, as she swung in provocative ways.

“Fuck you bitch!” Lucifer stormed off, he appeared more angry than usual, but it was depression he was tired. Imortallity was over-rated he thought. Lucifer retired to his bed chamber bringing Helen of Troy with him. And Lilith continued to dance.

After they fucked, Helen slept, and Lucifer pondered things. “Why did I fall for her?” He said aloud. Helen rolled over. For a fleeting moment he thought the Slag of Sparta had heard him, but a snore put an end to this worry. Lilith was beautiful, smart, ambitious, and determined. She like he had refused to fall down before the feet of man. They had been passionate rebels. They had married but unfortunately when you are a metaphysical being, there is no “Death to us part” he was trapped. This was hell.

She was a popper again, but that was okay with Eliza Grey. No more running. No more wondering. No more living on the run. She was back where she started. So on a cold, damp day Eliza approached the door of a cottage, whose address had been given to her by the local postman with a bribe that was not monetary. She had written it on the back of a napkin, it was damp and fragile like herself. She did not need to check it again for she had done so countless times in the single day she had it.

            “Please God, I have forsaken thee, but grant me this, and I shall not abandon thee”. She said these words quietly to herself and mad the sign of the cross as she did so. “Here it goes”. She knocked on the door. Silence. She knocked again. Silence. Then she did so a third time. Footsteps. Finally the sound of the door being unbolted. Shannon O’Rourke appeared. She was older, still pretty, but had put on some wait. A look of indifference was across her face. This was quickly betrayed by the pale white that flashed her face like the eclipse of the moon.
            “I’ve come back, and I always loved you”. Eliza had tears in her eyes.
“How? Why?..... What?” Shannon seemed speechless. She did not move but was frozen. Her world had changed. It was so foreign now. Memories die hare, though are easily clouded in mist. Just then there was crying in the background. It was a baby.
            Eliza heard this, then saw the ring. She couldn’t speak. She just stood and started to shake. “I love you”. And with that she walked off.
            “Damn God, damn life, and damn it all” She said this mantra to herself as she drained the bottle of Champagne she had spent her last pennies on. She was sitting by the stream, which was where she and Shannon had first made love. This was there spot. It was nothing but pain now. It was a place of sorrow, agony, and grief. It was once Heaven and was now Hell.
           
            “Damn her, god damn her! Whore!” Robert vexed repeatedly about his until recently fiancé , he paced angrily back and forth, as he shouted and knocked things over. He yanked at the embroidered curtains, clawing at them as if they had nearly ruined his career as a politician. His heart was intact though. “At least the bitch meant nothing beyond rank to me”, Robert said this just as his house keeper came into his flat.
            “My Lord” the maid said as she entered a room in shambles. She addressed it as a question, but was rewarded by an insidious look, with a face glowing red, and veins that made his eyes look as if they were about to explode. She wisely took a hint and started to leave.
            Unfortunately for Sara McDade, the pretty yet pudgy ginger maid of rising star, Robert Carey, she didn’t take the hint soon enough. If she had left seconds earlier when she had opened the door to the exquisite flat in Soho, she would not have been in this predicament.
            The situation was this, Robert was furious. He was in a rage. He charged her, beating her to the ground as he tore at her clothes. Gnashing his teeth, he raped her. She was abused and violated. “You do know what will happen my dear if you tell another living soul what just happened?” She did know, but he said it anyway grinning. “I will murder you bitch, if anyone asks what happened make up something convincing that doesn’t involve me. He said this right in her ear, still hovering over her. He buttoned his breaches, found is wallet, and careless threw money at her. He didn’t know how much nor did he care. He always carried large amounts of money with him, rarely was there anything less than a 50 Pound note there. “ I know you damn well need the cash, didn’t pay  you to lay there all day, get up and clean all this up! Christ, I new hiring a Scot wasn’t the best of ideas, but you were highly recommended.
            Robert felt better about himself now. A good fuck cleared his mind even if it wasn’t consentual. That was his Mantra. He had meetings to attend now, he would have to meet with his campaign manager to clear the mess up with his domestic issues. Not with the maid who’s name he didn’t remember, she wouldn’t talk, but with his would be wife. “Kidnapping perhaps?” he said to himself as he waited for his driver to pick him up. He smoked. “It will all work out in the end”. A few pedestrians walking by looked at him quizzically as he seemed to have a conversation with an invisible phantom of some sort. “Piss off!” It was then that his driver arrived the situation would be contained.
            Sara cried, she cried for hours as she cleaned the shambles of Mr. Carey’s flat. But who could blame her she had just been raped. “I pray to the gods, and spirits, oh hear me! I want justice to be done against thy tormenter, I…. I’m struggling”. She prayed to her gods and spirits. She still cleaned. She scrubbed, she dusted, and did the laundry of the tyrant that violated her. She fell to her knees and cried as she loaded the bag of laundry for dry cleaning. In it contained the pair of trousers he had removed to rape her.
            “We here, you child”, an unidentifiable voice said. Sara shuddered and franticly looked about the place.
            “Who‘s there!” Sara was scared. She continued to look about and shake. “I must be losing it, Dad did.”
            “Your dad did, but you are not. We are those that were great, lost, but not forgotten. You shall have justice. We shall bring it. But you must serve us”.
            “I will not surrender to evil, are you demons?” She started to breath hard. She was in a panic.
            “No my child, we are not Evil. We are Gods without a throne, some still have followers, but we are weak. A tyrant, unjust and cruel, all but destroyed us”.
            “I will do whatever it that you ask.” Sara said as she stood.

            It was a cold day Hell. Damn it was cold, the Devil huddled under the covers with Oscar Wilde, a personal favorite of his. The climate in Hell was about as diverse as the people in. There was blistering heat, flames climbing ever so higher like glowing yellow and red stalagtights in a forgotten cave.

Chapter 4

Eliza had made up her mind. She had nothing to live for. She had robbed and exploited her whole life. She wanted to do something good for the world. She was going to kill herself. So she drove up the coast. It was a long drive, but she knew of a place that was beautiful, a place where she might find peace in death. That was place was Newcastle, in County Down, in Northern Ireland. She had been through there and fallen in love with it. “I’m going to end it all where the Mourne Mountains meet the North Sea”. She said this aloud to herself as she smoked and drove to life’s last stop.

She arrived at midday on a Friday. She would do it tonight. Eliza wanted to look pretty so she checked into a room at the Sleeve Donnared Hotel. Cleaned herself up, enjoyed a meal, and found herself at the Hotel Bar that night. “I’ll have an Irish Coffee Please”. Eliza was rewarded with one. She thanked the bartender, and consumed the beverage.

She took a stroll down the Beach. As she walked to the end, she saw that a burned down building , that she had heard had been a Boarding House at one point, had been burned down. It saddened her. She had thought years ago when seeing it for the first time that she would like to buy it, and restore it. That was where she had always seen herself in a distant dream settling down, finding peace.  Then she remembered that she was going to be killing herself, and the idea that this was to be her fate was reinforced. She retired to her room, she would sleep for a few hours, then she would climb the Mountain, reach it by dawn, and would kill herself.

It was a cold day Hell. Damn it was cold, the Devil huddled under the covers with Oscar Wilde, a personal favorite of his. The climate in Hell was about as diverse as the people in. There was blistering heat, flames climbing ever so higher like glowing yellow and red stalagtights in a forgotten cave. There was something special about this one, Lucifer slept with men, women and virtually anything or anyone for that matter, but he really looked forward to his lust with the dead writer, and the night had been fun.