Hell

       I figured out what Hell is. It’s a pit, a pit that never seems to end. When you die you fall into this pit. As you’re falling down this pit you begin to think about your life. The people you loved and lost, the things you never did, things you did and regret. You know you’ll never see them again. Even if they fall too you will always be too far away. And as you fall it gets hotter and hotter, slowly of course, so you can feel it. You fall for a hundred years, a thousand, until it’s hot enough to burn your flesh, a million more and the heat is powerful enough to crack and shatter your bones to dust, but you feel every agonizing moment of it even though your nerves were fried to cinders eons ago. And even when you finally stop falling, you crash into nearly 8000 years worth of human souls who burn in this pit. You can feel the mind numbing weight of the sinners of man piled on top of you. The screams of them all can still be heard through the rough ghostly mouths on every speck of ash and a small laugh in the background of it all can be heard. You hear the echoing screams for eons more and you try not to. You focus on the small amount of laughter, a distraction from the screaming. You take solace in it. It guides you through the torture. And as the world ends all you can hear is the laughter. In the last dying moment, there is happiness in this laughter. But the laughter begins to morph. It becomes visible. You can see every crest and trough on the sound waves, every oscillation, and then it becomes a man. The man is tall, and strong. He carries himself with an air of pride. He is clothed in dark reds, fiery oranges, the blackest black, all in contrast to his pale white skin. His blood red hair drapes down his shoulders, his piercing green eyes look to rival that of a hungry predator. You understand now what the laughter is. It is Azrael, the angel of death. You are caught in his inferno. He reaches out to you with his scythe. He strikes your heart and pulls on your soul. He tears at it, wracking you with pain, trying to rip it from your pile of ash. And your heart shatters as your soul is pulled from your ash and he flies with you, carrying all of the weight on his single great black wing all the way to the top. As he goes over the edge of the pit, he thrusts you into your body, whole again. You are at peace and alive, feeling better than you ever have. You turn to walk away and you see his face. The face you will never forget. And he pushes you into the pit and begins to laugh.