Diary Day 18,304

I haven’t returned to the demonic plane.

After the spectacle in the square, guards shackled us to the floor of a cage. We’re an attraction. Something that the people of the Nether can gawk at and jeer. They toss bits of food at us and watch to see who runs for the scraps. I refuse to lower myself to the level of a violent beast. Though it’s interesting feeling hunger again. I haven’t felt it in so long.

Being a soul whose only purpose is to suffer means that pain is the one thing we’re forced to feel. I suppose those who partook in gluttony would face the pains of hunger as a punishment, though. The punishment always matches the crime.

The days are loud. The Nether is a thriving kingdom of life and power. Beings with might and abilities I didn’t know were possible. I watched a woman use her mind to lift a piece of meat from her open palm to the open mouth of a fellow damned soul. Only to have it disintegrate before he could chew it.

The crowds are constant. People coming and going. Eyes constantly on us. But I look them in the eyes. Something in me refuses to cower under their stare. Something in me forces my eyes to theirs.

A plea to make me one of them, possibly.

I suppose we’ll be here until someone decides it time for more violence.

Until then. We sit.