The smell of sulfur linering in the stale air

A mixture of blood and lava slowly flowing into a pool under the throne of the "Red King"

Screams of the burned and beat echo in the distance of this barre, burning waste land

Beings with flesh hanging off of them as if it was a scarf surrond the throne and crowed the so called "streets"

All is silent now as the King raises his hand, creaking a smirk that shows black teeth as dark as his soul

He lifts his head and looks upon his ghastly kingdom

His eyes burn into your very being

He slowly opens his mouth and utters 3 small words that make even the gods in the heavens tremble in fear

"Welcome to Hell"