Sometimes I hate being a demon. Countless millennia spent tormenting, various hauntings, and even being summoned by mortals in search of something “greater” can be a bit boring. Don’t get me wrong, I cherish their screams. From the sulphur pits to the converted skeptics, their screams and wails are music to my ears. It’s just so… repetitive? Mundane? Something seems to be missing, no matter the misery inflicted. Perhaps they’re not the only ones being tormented.
Another day, another few souls tossed into my pit. I almost roll my eyes as they fall into my domain. Humans, they’re so tedious. Their sins brought them here, one way or another. Yet they always plead for mercy or forgiveness, as if I’m capable of either. I’m often left wondering what would happen if I just let them go. Maybe I’d end up suffering tortures far merciless than them, maybe I’d be exiled from the pit I generally call home. Maybe nothing would happen, and I’d be left in absolute boredom. I’m practically lost in thought while starting in on the new souls, when the soft glow of a summoning illuminates around me. A chuckle breaks from my mouth as I wave menacingly to the confused people before me. Little break for us all, I think just before I vanish.