Weyland's Visit

[7twistedwishes]

On the other side of the door... Hell.

No, no fire and brimstone. A large room, half living room, half office, tastefully decorated and furnished. Thick carpet, a big couch, several recliners, an old-style desk, bookshelves, filing cabinets... and a computer too. Classical music plays in the background and the delicate scent of incense hangs in the air.

The Devil steps aside to let Weyland in enter. No need to make promises of release for him, since he is out of her purview.

Comments

[mechanicalswans]

"I prefer to test individuals on their own," he says, "without the innocent bystanders. But sometimes it is only by involving the innocent that you can see the depths of a person's character."

[7twistedwishes]

There are no true innocents in my world. "As it is written, there is none righteous, no, not one. - For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of the Lord."

"All are mine to torment until they prove themselves worthy of more."

[mechanicalswans]

"I like to test them," he says. "Sometimes some people catch my attention, either in a good way or a bad one. So I study them, as one would an exotic animal or a new species of plant. I see how they react to different situations. A good way to help boredom, I have found."

[7twistedwishes]

She smiles a bit. "I have to show you my garden, then..." The Devil pats his arm. "You should not linger here too long, the cold will eventually freeze anything."

[mechanicalswans]

"I have been to the land of the frost giants," he says. "The cold is in my blood, but I defer to you. Where is there to go from here? Back across the ice?"

[7twistedwishes]

"Yes. My avatar is waiting outside the cave, once you get there I can take you to my Garden." She nods, touching his arm again. "Take care, Weyland."

[mechanicalswans]

He reaches up, hesitantly, to smooth back her hair and stroke her cheek.

"Be well, little one," he murmurs, before turning to start back across the ice.

[7twistedwishes]

The avatar is waiting at the elevator. "Now, you know."

[mechanicalswans]

"The world is cruel," he says, lighting another cigarette. "It is enough to make one lash out, I suppose."

[7twistedwishes]

"Not all the time, for most." The elevator starts up again. "But often enough, yes."

[mechanicalswans]

"I do it when I feel the need to," he says. "Which is less often than some, probably, as I have my work. But when I do it, it is cruel. Have I told you about my favorite game?"

[7twistedwishes]

She raises a brow at Weyland, shaking head, but moves over and leans to the man's chest.

[mechanicalswans]

"I like to see what people are made of," he murmurs, settling an arm around her shoulders. "If they come to me, to ask me to work for them, it is easier; but sometimes the commissions are few and far between, so I will go looking for someone. And I will put them in a situation, and give them rules, and see what they do. I just finished a very satisfying game of it, not long ago."

[7twistedwishes]

"I do something similar." She smiles, nodding. "Just, I cheat until they realize the way to win is to not play."

[mechanicalswans]

"Sometimes they surprise me, sometimes they restore my faith that humanity--well, at least that not all of it is bad. Some individual people are still to my liking. And I reward them generously. The ones who fail, though--they deserve what they get also."

[7twistedwishes]

"And what do they get?" The elevator stops with a 'ding', and the door open to dark plains where four foot tall globes of dim light are scattered... thousands of them if not millions.

"My garden."

[mechanicalswans]

"It depends on how they behave," he says. "Some, I kill. Some I enslave, at least for a while. Some I attempt to teach a lesson to."

He steps out of the elevator, cautiously. "What do you grow here?"

[7twistedwishes]

"Souls." She walks ot, holding to his arm. "Once in a century, perhaps twice, one or two souls rise above the sea of mud of human kind."

She gestures to the orbs. "I bring them here, since Heaven would not take them."

[mechanicalswans]

"Why would Heaven not take them?" he asks. "How do the souls rise? Are they just... possessed of greater goodness than the rest? Why would you wind up with them? Are they souls of the dead?"

[7twistedwishes]

The Devil shakes head. "Because they are sinners. Heaven sends them here for eternal damnation, rejects them. But each of them has some quality that endears them to me, and I keep them safe."

[mechanicalswans]

"There is no in-between?" he asks, brow furrowed. "One is either damned or good, and there is nothing else? How dull must it be to be among the good..."

[7twistedwishes]

"No. And the catholic church spreads tales of 'Purgatory', saying you can be 'good enough', pay some after-death penance and go to heaven."

The Devil smiles. "The good and righteous, the real ones, seem to enjoy their lives of good. The fake ones enjoy promoting themselves and their faces when they arrive here are just priceless."

[mechanicalswans]

"I would never trust a system that says you can buy your way into eternal paradise," he says with a faint smirk. "That seems designed only for the earthly benefit and comfort of its priests, and not for the souls of the followers. But then, every system has its strange points. My own certainly did."

[7twistedwishes]

"If this were a business, I would pay them a share of profits. The amount of souls that end here because they trusted that theory..." She smirks. "Of course, none of those end here in my garden."

[mechanicalswans]

"I love the hypocrites," he says. "That's why I leave my game so open-ended--I like to see what people will offer, and what offers of mine they will accept. People who think themselves virtuous, who want riches or power; people who offer me riches or power in exchange for their lives. They never win."