As you die, you wake up in a fiery place. You quickly realize you’re in hell. You ask the next demon why you are there, as you lived a very good life. “You’re not being punished”, he says. “You are the punishment.”
“Don’t worry, we have a rotation with heaven. You’ll get to go back for a while before we need you again.” The demon reassures you. That’s good, you think- the caked-on blood is probably the worst part now that the pain is gone. It will be nice to get it off- maybe your lungs won’t feel too small then either!
“Who I am here to... I don’t have to do anything right? I don’t want to hurt anyone!”
The demon smiled, squatting down so he is at your level, a smile that is far more comforting than you were led to believe when your Nana or Papa told you stories from the pages of their dusty bible. “No, you won't have to do anything. Heaven delivered us the records of what your life would’ve been like if the building hadn’t collapsed. You-” The red-skinned being looks away and sighs, “Well, no use telling you who you could’ve been.”
“Well...” That’s a comfort to you, in a way- that your life would’ve gotten better. “Who’s being punished? And ... do you need me to do something?”
Standing up, he gestures to a door, “Good men, at least so they thought. People with morals who sacrificed them for their own pleasures. You just stand there and I’ll speak.” The demon holds out his hand, a grim smile back on his face, “Sometimes they need a reminder of what price others paid.”
You nod and quickly take the offered hand- yours barely fills his up. Pausing, you turn your face upwards, “Do... Who’re you? You’re really nice for a demon.”
That earns a scoff from the being, though maybe to your young ears it sounds... fond? “The name is Mephistopheles, kid. ...Thanks for asking. Now, let’s get things going so you can get on to your family. I hear they’re waiting for you.”