Requiem for a Devil

The great flames of Hell danced with ardent fury but only for brief moments.  Sadly they withered and receded to a pitiful dance along the brimstone walls.  An uneasy hush rippled across the throng, broken in fits and spurts by nervous whispering.  Not a soulless wretch among them dared approach for what seemed like eons, though really, time in Hell is a little funny.

Finally, painfully, slowly, little Hezzekuh crept along the crumbling stone stairway and poked his round, horned head within view, "Master, why does the almighty lord of Hell, Pain, and Suffering weep?"

Once again the fire of Hell stoked blazing hot, searing through the sulfurous air of the cavernous inferno.  No sooner had they done so then they wilted pitifully, impotently back to a sad blue ripple along the gulleys and crevices.  The rage of Hellfire had been reduced to a whimper and a gasp.

"Master, please," pleaded small Hezzekuh, a cherub in negative, "Why do we not go and sow some discord and mischief among men?  You used to like that.  We all do.  Come, let us do...evil."

The devil moaned, the villain of villains defeated at last, "Oh young Hezzekuh, don't you see?  What need does the world have of me?  What evil can I wrought that is not already being worked out feverishly in the hearts and minds of men.  Do evil, you ask?  My lad, it's all been done."

The End

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