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“Oh now, it’s not all that bad,” said the Dark Prince.
I reacted in appropriate horror. “Are you kidding? It’s hideous. Could we just go with the traditional lake of fire with demons wielding pitchforks?” I knew I was whining, but what more could he do to me?
“This isn’t on me. I wasn’t the one who spent decades swilling booze, snorting coke, and who ended up committing suicide after bankrupting his family.”
He had me there. I was a louse. There were reasons but they didn’t matter.
“It’s not forever,” he said smiling. “Just until you redeem your soul.”





