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Persephone Flemming has died, and upon being judged by celestial beings, she's damned to Hell, but she finds out for herself that Hell isn't exactly what it's rumored to be. "Go to Heaven for the climate, Hell for the company." - Mark Twain Persephone Flemming has died, and upon being judged by celestial beings, she's damned to Hell, but she finds out for herself that Hell isn't exactly what it's rumored to be. Hell is a metropolis, where anything you could possibly want is at your fingertips, where violence, sex, alcohol, partying, drugs, food, and everything else is in endless supply. No rules, no consequences. But is it too good to be true? Something is up with the Lords and Ladies of Hell, and when they all start to take interest in Persephone, she's not sure whether to drink up the attention or run as far away as possible. So when does the torture begin, or has it already started?
Be to her, Persephone,
All the things I might not be:
Take her head upon your knee.
She that was so proud and wild,
Flippant, arrogant, and free,
She that had no need of me,
Is a little lonely child
Lost in Hell,—Persephone,
Take her head upon your knee:
Say to her, “My dear, my dear,
It is not so dreadful here.”
--Prayer to Persephone, Edna St Vincent Millay
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