Excerpt from "Patron's War"

"There is not now, nor ever has there been, such a thing as in intelligent question," Apathy sighed, swaying back and forth in dismal misery. His blood-stained surgeon's smock was caked in what looked like fresh gore. Off-white sleeves rolled to his elbows, hands scrubbed and sterile, the chiurgeon stumbled to one side and took a seat on the edge of the table. The slick, black stitches that sealed his eyes beneath swollen eyelids seemed to parallel the deep frown of annoyance he wore on his face.

"We've heard you know everything."

"Everything worth knowing. Depressing, huh?"

"Then... you know a way out?"

Apathy shrugged. "I do."

The air was pregnant with anticipation. Minutes passed. Apathy began to whistle tunelessly. He stopped and sighed again. "'Can you tell us the way out of Hell?'" he asked in a falsetto. "I could, but I won't. What good would it do me, if you got out of here?"

"You snivelling little..."

"Disappointing reaction. Anger is a cliche down here, you know. But then, I shouldn't expect too much." He waved a sterile finger at the space just left of where the other man stood. "There are people who get very anxious when I am threatened, you know. More anxious than I care to contemplate, honestly, but that is Indulgence for you."

"Why? You help them often enough, why can't you help us? We could give you anything!"

Apathy fixed his stitced-up sockets on the other man, giving him the distinct impression that the Sin was trying to roll his eyes. He eventually gave up and just sighed once more.

"I know it is hard to accept, but face the facts: You are in Hell. Forever. What would you do if you got out? Where would you hide from the Angels and Reapers? For how long? A decade? A century? A thousand centuries? Do you think they will just say, 'ah, well, I suppose we'll let this one slide,' and let you go? It is meaningless. Trivial. You might as well give up."

"There's got to be something... some hope..."

Apathy gave him an apologetic smile and shrugged helplessly. "All I can do is give you a little false hope, if you'd like. 'It'll all be okay. You are terribly important. You'll find a way out without anybody's help.' Any good?"

"Or," he offered, pulling a hacksaw from the operating table and brandishing it suggestively, "I could operate. You won't care about Eternal Damnation afterwards, I promise. Doctor's honor."

The other man spat in Apathy's face and stormed from the derelect hospital.

A figure detatched itself from the shadows and stood behind his counterpart. "You are taken with lying these days, my sweet friend?" The voice was rasping and infectious, like oil split on a torrid sea. It actually sounded forked.

"I like you better with the mask on," Apathy lamented, leaning forward and resting his chin in his palm as the man's spit rolled down his cheek. "Anyway, I thought I'd lie for a few weeks. See if it discourages these daily chats. No change so far, I see."

Passion's inhuman snout was inches from Apathy's ear, whisps of smouldering ash blowing out in breathless anticipation. "We worry for you, dear man. Kings should not wile away their days with isolation and meaningless games. So much to do... so many people to do it to..." Passion's tongue langoriously licked his polished fangs, leaving a layer of saliva so thick, it might have been honey.

"Eh."

Passion drew back, still grinning despite the rebuke. "Perhaps tomorrow, then. Averice will come by with gifts. Won't that be wonderful? Then, perhaps, you will share what you know of the Silver Key with your dutiful brothers and sisters?"