Well, drat. You're dead. And you weren't exactly the best person in life either.

Instead of a realm of fire and brimstone...you were met with an endless Mesa, one which has a menacing red hue in the sky and the scent of damnation filling your lungs.

You pick yourself up, dusting off the dirt from your sudden fall...only for your blood to run cold as you realize that your fall from grace wasn't a silent one, and the gangs of Hell are on their way to capture you, and do gods-knows-what to your soul.

Start running, unless you wish to become part of the gang.

Forever.

(Want to start out as a devil? Click this helpful Daemon and embrace your wickedness)