Well, indirectly, he supposed that hell was the worst possible punishment that could've been given to him.
Eric lit a new cigarette with the stub of his old one, leaning against the cold stone wall; the new flame blazed up momentarily, matching Eric's own crimson eyes in the gloom. Rain fell around him, obscuring the surrounding streets with dreary grey, dripping from the overhang he was lounging beneath. He blew smoke. The few occupants of London that had braved the unseasonal rain scurried past without sparing him a look. The glowing tip of his cigarette held no one's attention, which suited him just fine. For once, Eric was not trying to be noticed. Rather the opposite.
Brushing a hand up through his blond bangs to bring them up and out of his luminous red eyes, he surveyed the street again. Promising enough. Slick cobblestones and dark skies were bound to cause some sort of accident soon. If not, he could hurry one along. He could imagine Spears' eyebrow twitching as that appeared on the 'To Die' list. Give the old bastard a bit of a turn, for nostalgia's sake. Who would be dispatched for that one?
Hrm. Not Alan, that was for sure. Glowering up at the sky, Eric stubbed out the new cigarette, a sour taste in his mouth. "Where'd you go, then, considerin'?" he muttered, still looking into the clouds with a scowl. "Nowhere I can pull y'out, no matter what I bloody do. Just like before, eh?" He gave a laugh that was more pain than mirth.
Would it've been worth it if you'd managed it? A little voice was asking him from within his own head. He ignored it. Any hypotheticals didn't really matter, at this point. What's done was done. What he'd done hadn't worked, and he was now paying for it.
Shooting a last resentful look upwards, Eric ducked back into the alley, reflecting that - just maybe - the world would've been better off without him a whole lot sooner.
Demon Eric! Woohoo! Thanks to each and every reviewer, new and old. That's what keeps me writin'. ^^;