We are bodies without souls, purely flesh and bone. Blood pumps to and from our stone hearts and through our veins, our brains connive, scheme and process pain, and nobody looks twice when we pass him on the street. Yet we are greater than humans because we refuse to die, we laugh at love, loyalty, and loss, and we fight fearlessly. There is nothing to lose. We are already dead: corpses without the spark of life. We are pulled and animated by the strings of our sins. This is purgatory. I exist because I am Envy. I am Envy because others exist. Without humans, I am no one.
We are underground where slow Sloth tunnels through earth like a worm, laboriously hollowing a labyrinth of loops. We are in the shadows where old Pride lurks, all eyes and teeth, awaiting cloaked nightfall when he may consume the cosmos. We are at the top, where aging Wrath wrestles with rogues and sends men off to war. Have you met petty Greed who collects people like trophies? Do you fancy Miss Lust with the warmth of dry ice? Did Gluttony entomb you in an endless abyss that can never be filled, never be filled? Let the man without sin throw the first stone.
Souls are taxing. Where do they flee? Father has plans for us. We remain here – forever.