Crooked paintings of sobbing angels pointed hellward, towards the earth and the heat and all we deserve. And none of the mortals noticed them weeping, noticed them writhing, noticed them falling, towards the depths of a ***** soul, and they fell and never stopped doing so. Yet as they let a wicked gravity pull their calloused feet, they still believed they were on their way to wrong, leaving their home. Of course, this makes sense, since the cruelest fae and most twisted demons were always the one to believe themselves holy. And so is told the tale;
Seven sins split hellward, going where they belonged: among humans.