AN: I don't like you.

'T was a normal Christmas Eve for Sly and Bently, Murry was away, so they continued their heists with just the two of them. Sly is the thief, Bently is the brains and Murry was the muscle. "Ah, crap," Sly muttered as he was standing on the edge of a window sell, in France

"What is it?" Bently asked, fear in his voice. The only time Sly said ah, crap. Something was very bad.

"The guards are armed, they've got 50 Caliber sniper rifles, Ak-47s and Desert Eagles." Sly replied as he hooked on to a wire with his cane before he swung himself up, observing the top of the bank that they were going to rob, "if I get too close, they'll get my head. And wait… Is that the C.I.A?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so, America really wants you behind bars. Why don't we give up and come back on the twenty-sixth?"

"Hell, no." Sly replied as he crept across the wire, his dark blue outfit blended in well with the night sky. He jumped on to the roof, careful not to make a sound. He then took out a guard by snapping his neck, dragging the body behind the vent he was hiding behind. The sound of someone's neck breaking, was always nice.

He then moved from vent to vent, choking people to death or breaking their necks. It didn't matter to him. Until he reached the vent that would lead him straight to the prize. He then snapped the necks of the two guards that were blocking his path. He then hopped into the vent, crawling along its walls like a spider, following the designated path until he reached his target. A large fifteen thousand carat diamond. But of course he's stealing from a criminal, because Sly is a dick to normal people.

He snatched the diamond, before feeling something leaking out of his stomach. It was a solid crimson colored liquid, sticky too. The only thing like that in the body was blood. He had been shot underneath the heart, he would die soon. "Sorry Bently, I'm not getting out of here," Sly spoke through the headset before he coughed up blood, "I've been shot, going to die soon."

"Slyyyyy! Don't leav-." Bently was cut off as Sly hung up the call. He then fell over, the pain in his chest was excruciatingly painful. If he wasn't used to this kind of pain, he'd be dead already. But it was inevitable. He would die a slow and painful death.

"Tch, I was careless," He muttered before he looked up at the officer point a gun at his head. He would die anyway, might as well make a last stand.

"Stay down, Cooper. Just die." The officer said as Sly turned around and pointed a spare desert eagle at the officer's head.

"Fuck you," Sly replied as the both of them pulled the trigger at the exact same moment. A 16 mm round entering Sly's head while a 19 mm round entered the officer's skull.

Dying was like disappearing into nothingness. If someone knew what it felt like, they would go insane.

Cooper, are you just going to sit there and die?

"Yes, I've been shot in two places, brain and heart."

You are weak. Accepting death like that proves that you are weak.

"Maybe so, if I'm considered weak, then you're considered stupid." It wasn't the best of insults, but it was the third he's ever thrown.

Arrogant fool, you will die again, in my domain.

"Domain? Hell? No, I'd rather kill you then die again."

Fuck you.

"No thanks, I'd rather not."

It all happened too fast for Sly's brain to process it. One moment he was lying in a pool of his own blood, taking to the devil himself. Next moment he was chained up in a crucified position, shirtless and being whipped. The marks on his chest were red and bleeding.

How does it feel to be whipped?

"Stings, doesn't hurt." Sly attempted to put on the tough-guy act, though it probably wasn't going to work. Seeing that he was up against the devil himself, locked in fast paced mental combat.

I'll make you change that attitude. Seeing that you're immortal now. The devil brought out a knife and started to stab Sly in many different parts of his body. Crimson blood could be seen flowing out of the stab wounds.

The pain was absolutely horrible, Sly didn't know how much longer he could keep up the act. All Coopers went through torture as a child so that they'd never spill the beans on how they steal things. But this torture was worse than the torture he went through as a child.

Willing to keep on keeping up the act?

"F-fuck y-you," It was hard to speak now, seeing that one of his lungs were torn out of his body, but eventually it regrew. That was the sin of being immortal, his regeneration was nearly perfect, but the pain would still be there.

Suit yourself.

And so the torture continued, bones would shatter then heal. Organs would be ripped out then regrown. This kind of torture continued for seven days and seven nights, every day, more blood would be spilt.

Sly only started to scream on the sixth day, his screams could be heard all across the underworld. Currently, he was a bloody mess. His regeneration wasn't working because he couldn't concentrate. Hell, he couldn't even speak at all. His left lung had been incinerated inside of his own body, his heart was still beating barely. As for his bones, about ninety seven percent of his bones were shattered, the only bones remaining were his skull and a few of his ribs.

Give up now? If so, then we will continue. If not, I'll throw you into the pits of hell.

Sly could barely move his head, he didn't nod, only shook his head. Telling the devil that he wasn't giving up at all. He could finally concentrate now, that the torture had stopped. All of his bones, wounds and missing organs healed. He then let out a small chuckle before speaking, "I've got one thing to say…." He paused for a second so he could breath,

"….Fuck you."