Come closer, let me tell you my tale...listen to my deep, bellow of a voice...

It was horrible, torture, pain. They all did it for pleasure. Brimstone towered among all of us, like cages. The sky burned a blood red, the clouds being a darker, red, misty hue in the air. I escaped though. Oh yes I did. I got out, a cloak around me to hide my identity from those who control the grinding gears of the ultimate source of pain. And if they would've listened close, they would've heard a maddening, cackling laughter of relief. As I ran past few gray, crippled trees, the bony heels of my feet making tracks in the red sand, the tower of torture behind me, I escaped far away to a distant plain of existence. And it is so close. So close to yours. I set up camp there, broadcasting my voice to the masses. Sooner or later, my voice will run dry, and many will forget my sayings, my preaching, my visuals, everything. But it is all ok. The plan will forever run fresh like pure, red blood. I will be the instrument of armageddon against this pain. Fear not, it will be all over soon.