I walked through the red thorns, twisting and winding their way around what had once been a beautiful castle. Indie rock music played in the speakers of my headphones.
     People called and screamed and moaned. It was the pleas of the dead. This was his castle after all. Hell was a place of eternal suffering. It rained fire, and was unbearably hot. The scent of sulfur and burning human flesh always lingered in the air.
     The only living beings were demons. And, of course, me. I was one of the few mortals alive in Hell. Childishly, I wished to be with my family every day, and he heard, coming to my aid and pretending to be a god.
     He tricked me into selling my soul. An eternal life with my family, but I treated him as one of my family as well. If I didn't, my family would die again, and I would just be alone in Hell.
     Of course, I was getting used to it. Used to the heat, and used to the smell.

     I still loathed it down there.

My issues were resolved halfway through writing this.