[ WP ] You receive a handwritten letter from Satan himself , congratulating you on committing every possible sin .

`` The fuck is this?'' 
 
 Clearly the courier is n't excessively comfortable with being in this particular place, because he keeps glancing over his shoulder as if something is following him - which it is, an army of flies clinging to the walls in the shadows, watching. 
 
 `` It's a letter, ma'am, from uh... you know, down stairs...'' 
 
 I have to stare at him for a while, trying to figure out what the hell he means. Down stairs? 
 
 `` No one down stairs in this place is sending letters. I killed them all when I was done with them.'' 
 
 Now he looks even more uncomfortable, staring at my chest. For any other woman it might be annoying, objectifying. For me, I realize that one of my little friends has crawled out from under the bandages over my bra, under my button-down and tie - or it wiggled between the bandages on my neck and crawled down over the cloth. 
 
 `` I-Is that a fucking...'' 
 
 `` It's a parasite. Special kind, all for me. He's a little friend, you see... put him in someone's mouth and he'll squirm and wiggle into their gums and then up and around and through, chewing and squirming until he hits the brain. People belong to me then, for a few hours... but they putrify so fast because of his excretions,'' I murmur, chuckling softly and plucking the segmented black worm like thing off my shirt and opening my mouth. I've gotten used to the cloths adhering to my skin, thanks to the special material and basic magic. He crawls down my throat, squirming down into my stomach. 
 
 I can feel his lovely little body wiggling through my intestinal wall so he can return to sleeping inside, where all of my little friends sleep. Such sweet, sweet little friends. 
 
 He looks sick now. Poor cute little man, young and sweet and delicious looking. It's such a shame he's actually an innocent, from the smell of him. They always give me indigestion. Pure... might burn me a little. 
 
 Lucky lucky, he gets to live. 
 
 `` So, son... downstairs?'' 
 
 ``... Hell, ma'am. Lucifer. It's a letter from the king of hell.'' 
 
 I laugh again, licking at my lips. They taste like blood. Delicious. 
 
 `` Oh, my, my. Luci dearest sent me a letter? I'm flattered. Leave it on the desk and get out. Some of my... experiments... are a touch hungry. I suggest sticking to the well lit areas,'' I tell him. 
 
 `` W-Why...?'' 
 
 I lean forward, reach up slowly, and unwind the bandages from around my face after taking off my hat and wig. I can see in his eyes my reflection, a bald head, sickly greenish whitish flesh. Countless scars and wounds, some still held shut with staples. One eye, with centipedes nested in the empty, lidless socket. Sores and blisters from one side of my mouth up to the ear. He turns and vomits onto the floor, and I ca n't help but laugh some more. I figure the stink of rot probably got to him. I really need me a new head sometime soon, but transferring my brain is such a chore... maybe I'll just get a whole new body this time... 
 
 `` W-What the fuck... what the fuck are you!?'' he demands, staggering backwards. 
 
 `` Stay on point, sonny. You asked why you should stick to the well lit areas, remember? Well, there are things worse than me out there in the dimness of this place, my little servants, my friends and children... So stick to the light, little innocent,'' I answer, keeping my tone even. I remember before all this, centuries ago even, though the memories are foggy and vague. Undying. Unreclaimable soul. Mutator of pestilence. Queen of flies. `` I'm the Hive of Sin, kiddo... emphasis on the hive. Now get out of here.'' 
 
 He turns tail and runs, keeping to the isle of light in cutting down the center of the dark warehouse. When he's gone, I wave a hand and a grotesque black and yellow spider leg extends from the blackness and shuts the door, leaving me alone with my desk and my babies. 
 
 The letter is in a thick envelope, some kind of parchment maybe, or... vellum, perhaps? It smells good, so I'll probably eat it in a few minutes. The letter though, that's what's wonderful. It's written in the blood of the damned and has a faint scent of brimstone and his cologne - an impeccable masculine scent reeking of sexy. 
 
 And his handwriting, fuck me sideways, it's beautiful. 
 
 `` Dear Zed, as I hear you are called these days. Our record keeper has come to me today to inform me that you have done the unthinkable. You have committed every sin that there is! How amazing, truly,'' I read, chuckling with almost every sentence. He thinks I'm amazing! I mean, of course he does, simply because I am. Look at all the money and drugs and cars and women and men I've had in my life... I have everything I want or need at my fingertips - and if anyone tries to take it from me, they will feel my wrath. Greed, gluttony, lust, pride, wrath... that lengthy period of sloth where I slept for ten years except for beer runs... 
 
 All I am missing is power. His power. I so wish his power was mine. Ahhh, to call Hell mine, to fuck his woman in the pits of Tartarus... 
 
 And then eat her. 
 
 Lilith must taste *incredible. * 
 
 Right, the letter. 
 
 `` You have stolen so many different items, my dear. Small lighters costing a quarter all the way to cars and then, as if you had n't broken reality's rules enough, you stole lives as well. You've fucked too many things to list, you carry more horrific parasites and diseases than I can imagine and command them, you spit in the face of god and, as the kids say, flip dear old Death the bird. It's so amusing... I love hearing of your exploits. Robbing that drug cartel was particularly interesting. I had no idea a person's body could withstand that kind of treatment and still be used for intercourse.'' 
 
 Heh. 
 
 That was a loooot of needles. 
 
 `` At any rate, this is a congratulations, my dear. I have something you might enjoy for you as a reward for doing what we thought was impossible. A way for you to die, my dear, perhaps. You'll have to investigate on your own. The name may ring a bell. Faust. We tracked down Mephistopheles, the bloody traitor... and we made him talk. You were a secret he spilled.'' 
 
 Holy shit. 
 
 Someone who knows where I came from? 
 
 `` Unfortunately, his soul expired after a time, by his own hand - we're still investigating how he did that. At any rate, you will find answers you are looking for in Germany. There are GPS coordinates listed below. I look forward to seeing you... after all, you have a place in our court and these are trying times for us all down here in the Pit. Hurry on, Hive of Sin, hurry on.'' 
 
 Oh gosh... 
 
 If my cheeks were n't half puss, I might be blushing. 
 
... oops... not blushing. Oozing. 
 
 I rise, absent mindedly munching on the envelope and occasionally licking at the blood on the letter - though, not the coordinates. One of my babies skitters out of the dark, her many eyes glinting in the light. When she reaches me, I pat her on the head and chuckle softly. 
 
 `` Get the others. We're going to the jet.'' 
 
 I smile as the sounds of insects, hissing and chirping and clicking fill the air. 
 
 I finally... get to die! I mean, I killed myself way back, that was my first big sin. But now... it's for real, maybe. 
 
 Oh god, and it'll hurt, too. 
 
 I could n't be wetter.
