Fallen, Angels, Daemons, and you -part 3

Alright, I read your comments and I will stop my other stories for this one, since everyone seems to like it so much (yeah!!!) and so yeah, here it is.

It's a little short, sorry, but it's Lucifer's point of view. It's really really important that you know he can communicate with humans and that he is supper bored. But other than that you can stop reading cus even I had to admit that this chapters a little boring.
-Zella
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Lucifer-

Lucifer jolted out of his sleep, shocked. He had heard something, just one world. Lucifer. But it wasn't just a word, behind it was raw emotion so strong it made him shiver, made him hear even in Hell. The word was pure sorrow, frustration, love, hatred, and want. It had been Eliza.

Lucifer sucked his breath in sharply, sitting up and pulling a hand through his ever long brown hair. His head hurt, trying to recall memories of Eliza, her black wings, her black hair, her milky skin, her perfect laugh, her sweet lips...

Damn it all!! He would kill to see her now. How he would love to be a Fallen like the rest of them instead of being in this... this Hell hole! This white hell hole of a dimension- Hell was a collection of dimensions- were he was forced to die of boredom and stare at nothing but white.

Lucifer looked around in disgust, at the perfect white room. That was in the perfect white castle, and in the perfect white snow barren field outside. The hole place was nothing but white, or perfectness. It disgusted Lucifer.

With a rueful smile, Lucifer got out of his white bed and let his wings spread out to the back of him, stretching he remembered how he first got here, how in a raging fit, he attacked and destroyed everything in the white castle, that night he slept in the snow, which had no temperature, cold or hot. When he woke up everything was in tact, perfect as it had been.

Lucifer sighed and stopped stretching, then stood up and walked over to the window to watched the snow fall again. It was strange, this place. There was no temperature, no time, and no sound unless he made it himself. Everything, no matter how destroyed, would become intact again soon after.

He had abandoned destroying the castle quickly. He worked out for something to do, push ups, weights, pull ups, and of course he played with his sword, destroying random things for practice. But that too, had gotten old to him, and so he found a way to communicate with humans.

He could communicate with humans, go in there mind and see what they saw, feel what they felt. He knew about the World Wars, he knew about 911, he knew about Pompey. He knew that once, Micheal became the President of the United States, his name being John F. Kennedy.

Lucifer pound his head on the window, making it shatter to a million pieces as his head bled. He ignored it, just stared out into the now empty window out at the falling snow. His life had become immeasurably boring lately, and sometimes he hit things for fun, but now it was out of frustration.

God damn was Hell torture.