Eternity
Iblis' fires, he decided, would last for an eternity.
The urns they left would never seem to face. The dark tattoo of a memory implanted on the body for the remainder of its natural life, stinging, tingling, would force others to reconcile in fear. True justice would prevail, the fires of the one true Hell reawakened.
He would let his sparks rage for an eternity.
The humans would tremble in fear at the unnatural magnitude of justice he-the King of Fire-would display. They'd be so startled in their terror that they'd hesitate even to move, to speak, to breathe. Their own beating hearts would startle them half to death.
And Iblis would rule over this destruction, watching immortal mortals burn for fire, hearing their pleasurable shrieks, smelling the pleasant pungeance of burning spirits. Iblis would rule, watch, smile as the humans suffered for his own enjoyment, as he revived from the fictional texts of the Bible the very meaning of Hell.
And his weak, gentle father, who so lovingly tended to his every need, would be right there with them, the main attraction to God's freak show, the final act of the circus performance, the most magnificent carving created from a rock of pure blaze.
But it would wait. His time was not there yet. But he knew, with a dark smirk on his face-he knew that the world of Gehenna would know his glory, and Assiah's downfall would be engraved in stone.
I doubt that the next few themes would be anything other than mental descriptions. Such is where my inspiration has led me. I'm slowly clawing my way out of this dark pit that I've dug for myself.