Satan was not happy. And when he's not happy, people pay for it.
He watched the tortured souls of hell through his window. He could change the view to any city he wanted. Right now, he was watching the roof of a hospital in Piedmont California. The smell of sulfur and blood wafted on the burning wind. He turned back inside to his office.
It was large, 1940s era, and covered in the flags of many countries, all with corruption, death, and disease running amok. Even the U.S had a few problems. He sat in his desk, a large one made of mahogany, once owned by the man notorious for the murder of hundreds in WWII, and covered in pieces if paper that revealed faces, moving faces, that were his most wanted sinners.
Although, time does slow down on earth when your in heaven or hell, or is it it speeds up in heaven or hell. Maybe it's both.
Satan shook his head. He never did get an explanation for that, God worked in weird way. He returned his attention to papers. A man standing at a curb, who was normally a model citizen, had a dirty little secret. He would partake in prostitution, gambling, larceny, rape, oh the list goes on.
Satan flexed his hand, and a piano dropped on the man, crushing him flat. This classic death normally brought a smile to his face, but not today. Not. Even. A. Twitch.
To many things occupied his mind. He got up and walked over to the window again, and watched the sinners be whipped with the nine-tail cat. His attention was drawn to a boy with a pine tree cap.
His blood began to boil as he watched Dipper whipped with the nine-tail, but he tried, and failed, to shake it off.
"What's wrong with you, it's one child, whys he so special?" he growled at himself.
"Because of this," a voice said behind him. He turned slowly to see an angel standing before him. An angel that he used to be. Lucifer held up a piece of paper unlike the rest. It was a letter, written to him all those years ago. He closed his eyes and looked away. He had memorized it, but still couldn't come to grips with it.
Dear Tom, (an alias, I mean, who's gonna say, my names Satan, the devil, or just the guy that causes all the pain and suffering in the world, will you go on a date with me? Anyway,)
It's been some months, and I know you probably don't remember or care about me, but I just wanted to tell you something. I'm pregnant. It's yours. I've met a man, and he's proposed to me, despite the fact that he's not the father. He'll be a father to it, and when the time is right, I'll tell it whose its real father. I would like for you to be there, so they can get to know you. Maybe not as a father, but as a friend.
Signed, with love,
Marisa Davison, soon to be Marisa Pines.
That's correct. Dipper Pines and Mabel Pines are Satan's kids, the anti-Christs.
"It doesn't change anything," he growled at the angle.
"It changes everything, he's your son Satan, help him," lucifer said, taking a step forward.
"Why should I, I'm the devil, the harbinger of damnation, I don't help anyone but myself," Satan said, taking a step back. Lucifer shook his head.
"What about me? You used to be angel looking for love, and it's right there being tortured," Lucifer said, holding out his free hand out the window towards the hospital roof. Dipper was in his side, a demon kicking him in the gut repeatedly. Saran shook his head again.
"Rules are rules," he said as a last defense. Lucifer tilted his head and raised an eyebrow in an "don't give me that shit" look.
"Since when do you care about rules?" He asked confused.
"Never," he said, as he vanished in a cloud of fire.
Ok, second chapter done! Thanks to, gravityfaller302 or something like that, a random guest, and M.T Mystery Twin for reviewing and causing me to post this.