7 Gifts

HELL

"I don't know if you know who I am. Let's say for now I'm your best fiend."
Fiend? As in Moster? Ahhhhh...He's the Devil. My luck never seems to run out.
"Calin, you should know I have no true 'beef' as you mortals say with you. I just hate your dad. So, when I killed you, I wanted to make your dad feel as if he'd see you again. As if!"
"My Dad's Dead. Don't talk about him."
"Oh, did I make the little Calin cry? Sowwie. Your dad's Grim by the way. Literally. You could see the love/disappointment in his eye when he encountered you. Do you like to play cards?"
I don't know if this comes when you're dead, but for some reason my mind just can't comprehend all this information. Basicly, my dead dad almost killed me out of love, I'm In Hell and I'm about to play card with Satin himself. I don't know which is worse, being alive or being dead.
"You should also thank me for giving you your 7 little gifts, and making sure your throat collapsed." he says smiling, as he shuffles his deck.
Let me describe him to you. Then you'll understand why I want air back in my lungs. An almost faceless man with pitch black skin, a forked tongue, a twisted mouth, without eyes, without ears, is staring back at me. The pits where his eyes should be are drilling a hole in my stomach. His endless tail ensnares the room, as his horns curl into them selves. He is Living Fear. Fear is something I cannot overcome. 
So, I play this game. Time whizzes past me as the cards a dealt, played and shuffled. It's addicting. It's almost sinful. It IS sinful.
Suddenly, I can't stop playing. At all. Like the throat collapsing. "No. Not again. I...AM...MY...OWN PERSON!"
I smash the table in half, and throw the cards into the flames.
"You little Brat! My cards!"
Then I notice what was behind the ace. Greed, the card says. Then behind the King of 
Spades. Pride. Then Gluttony, and Wrath, and all the others. I have overcome sin. What's next.
"PURGATORY"