Hell had always been a mystery to humanity.
For as long as people had learned to speak, they had whispered about it—painted it in fire and shadow, buried it beneath sermons and warnings, shaped it into a place to be feared. Some believed it was punishment. Others claimed it was a myth meant to control the weak. Many ran from the idea of it altogether, choosing comfort over truth.
Yet no matter how far humanity ran, hell waited.
It was destiny for almost all of them.
Dimitri woke to nothing.
No sky. No ground. No warmth or cold. Just an endless void stretching in every direction, black without depth, silent without mercy. His body felt weightless, as if he were floating, yet he could feel his heart pounding violently in his chest.
"W-Where am I?" His voice echoed faintly, as though swallowed by the darkness. "Am I… dead?"
He tried to move, but there was no sense of direction—no up, no down. Panic crept into his lungs as his breath quickened. This wasn't heaven. There were no golden gates, no light, no peace. And it didn't feel like the hell he had been taught to fear either.
"This can't be right," Dimitri whispered. "I did everything I was told."
His mind raced back through his life—years spent kneeling in prayer, fasting, obeying rules carved into him since childhood. He had sacrificed joy, desire, even doubt, all for the promise of salvation. All for God.
A sound broke the silence.
Slow. Deliberate. Like footsteps that didn't need a floor.
A presence formed within the void, darker than the darkness itself. Two burning eyes ignited first, glowing red like dying stars. Then a shape emerged—tall, towering, wrapped in shifting shadows that twisted like living smoke.
Dimitri froze.
The being smiled.
"Well," it said smoothly, its voice layered, ancient and amused, "you woke up faster than most."
Dimitri's throat tightened. "W-Who are you?"
The smile widened. "You already know the answer."
The realization hit him like a blade. "No… No, that's not possible."
"Oh, but it is." The figure spread its arms slightly, as if presenting the void itself. "I am the Devil."
Dimitri's knees buckled, though there was nothing beneath them. "This is hell?" he demanded. "This empty nothing?"
The Devil laughed softly. "Not yet. This is merely the waiting room."
Dimitri's chest burned. "Why am I here?" he shouted. "I was faithful! I devoted my life to God! I followed every command!"
The Devil tilted its head, studying him like an insect pinned to a board. "Ah," it said, almost fondly. "That."
It drifted closer, its presence suffocating. "Tell me, Dimitri—what better way to lead all of humanity to hell than to act like God?"
The words didn't make sense. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying," the Devil continued calmly, "that the god you worshipped… was never real."
Dimitri shook his head violently. "You're lying. You're the father of lies."
"Am I?" the Devil asked. "Or am I simply the one honest enough to tell the truth when it no longer matters?"
Images flooded Dimitri's mind—symbols, scriptures, rituals—twisting and cracking like broken glass.
"The religion you followed," the Devil said, "was designed. Crafted. A beautiful illusion. Fear wrapped in holiness. Obedience sold as virtue."
Dimitri screamed. "Stop!"
"You gave your life to it," the Devil went on, relentless. "Your time. Your love. Your soul. And for what? A promise written by men who never spoke to God."
Dimitri clutched his head as if he could tear the thoughts out. "No… I felt Him. I believed."
"And belief," the Devil said softly, "is the most useful weapon of all."
Something inside Dimitri cracked.
Years of faith collapsed in on themselves, crushing him beneath their weight. Every prayer felt like a betrayal. Every sacrifice, a cruel joke. Tears streamed from his eyes, vanishing into the void before they could fall.
"I gave everything," he sobbed. "I offered my life."
"Yes," the Devil replied. "You did."
Silence followed. Then the Devil stepped back, its form beginning to fade.
"Welcome to eternity, Dimitri," it said. "Enjoy the truth."
"No—wait!" Dimitri reached out desperately. "Please!"
But the Devil was already gone.
The void closed in, heavier now, colder. Dimitri was alone.
He screamed until his voice broke. He cried until there were no tears left to shed. He curled into himself, shaking, as the reality settled deep into his soul.
He had lived for a lie.
He had died for nothing.
And the void answered him with silence.