For the grand finale, her ladyship has chosen none other than the ninth circle of hell, home to the treacherous - the most famous of which is Lucifer himself. Check out the description of Lucifer in the 9th Circle here.
After the strung out abstraction of Thursday's story about Violence (Suicide) I felt a lighter touch was in order.
“Don’t believe me then.” His face was the colour of lemon tart, lickable almost. One of his faces. Barry shrugged.
“Well I don’t. You don’t look like the Devil. The Devil has pointy horns and goat feet.” They both looked down at the thick layer of ice which circled the monster’s navel, turning his ragged skin black with cold.
A tear rolled down his blood-red cheek. It reminded Barry of ice-cream dribbled with raspberry sauce.
“I might have goat-feet, under here,” the Devil said. “For all you know.”
“Why are you stuck here then? This is hell. You’re supposed to be in charge. I want to sell my soul to the boss man, the big kahuna. You’re stuck in ice. And you’re ugly. The Devil’s meant to be hot. Handsome devil and all that.”
The Devil looked at him calmly. “Fuck off Gabriel.”
Barry grinned, wings sprouting. “How d’ya guess?”