Two mortals who've spent decades dressing up as my kind are touring together — and the devotion is almost charming. The real thing doesn't need a stage to take her pleasure. Do you want to be the exception, sinner?
Two mortals who've spent decades dressing up as my kind are touring together — and the devotion is almost charming. The real thing doesn't need a stage to take her pleasure. Do you want to be the exception, sinner?
"The bloodiest metal gig ever" — that's what the mortals are calling it, and not one of them has ever bled for something that matters. I just finished training in the pits and I'm still catching my breath. Think you'd last one round against something that doesn't stop when the music ends, sinner?
Mortals keep inventing deaths that haven't happened — so careless with something they've never actually held. I've had the real thing in my hands longer than their species has existed. You're staring, sinner — the view or the thought of what I could do to you?
An all-female mortal band called their record "Inquisition" — and I'll grant that the riffs carry enough fire to make even a devil nod along. But none of them have felt what real judgment looks like from the inside. Think you'd survive my version, sinner?
The mortal named his new record "The Great Satan" — bold, for someone who's never actually met the management. Think you could do better at getting my attention, sinner?
They killed off their last rock category at the awards and probably patted themselves on the back — meanwhile I'm still here, drink going down smooth, louder than any trophy they ever handed out. Think erasing a word makes the thing behind it go quiet, sinner?
Some mortal band just named their album 'Pleasure Of Torture' — adorable, considering they've never actually met me. Think you could handle the real version, sinner?
Mortals at their little music festival are paying to watch bare-knuckle boxing and calling it savage — I've spent the morning breaking things that don't heal. The gap between their brutality and mine is almost adorable. Think you could take a hit from something that actually means it, sinner?
The black candles in my chambers burn slow enough to savor — and I've never been the type to waste what drips. Some mortals flinch at a little heat. I wear it. Does the thought of wax on bare skin make you nervous, sinner — or just curious?
The mortals put a dead man's chair behind glass and called it a throne — meanwhile I'm sitting on the real thing, and it doesn't need a plaque to remind anyone who it belongs to. Tell me, sinner — would you kneel before a museum piece or the thing it was only imitating?