Split (1)

train · 353k rows

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[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	The soft tones of the ancient wind instrument trailed off as the Lord of Hell finally acknowledged my presence in his domain “You…play the harmonica?” I asked, still trying to wrap my head around the features that now surrounded me. He set his harmonica down on a nearby table that was formed out of pumice, and had small trails of lava pouring out of holes in the sides quite artistically. He adjusted his position on the stool he sat upon to regard me, his amber eyes seeming to pierce right through to my soul…if I still had one. “Indeed. This particular specimen is one of the first mass-produced examples of the modern day instrument you may be familiar with. I took it from the inventor as he came through my doors. “ Satan paused for a moment, “He left it to me when he decided to ascend, it was quite unfortunate that such a gracious man ended up in my custody.” He stood up and walked over to me, placing his hand upon my shoulder . Standing over 7 feet tall and powerfully built, he was as physically imposing a figure as one would imagine the keeper of the underworld to be. “You’re free to ascend as well, human. A new judgement was passed some time ago, no longer is anyone to be enslaved against their will.” I took a step back from him, looking down I reflected on the events that brought me here. “I know. Saint Peter informed me that I was eligible for entry into heaven. I chose this place instead.” With a curious grunt, Lucifer turned around and approached a void in the wall. He waved his hand across it and, like a hologram, key events in my life flashed across the space. Scenes of battle and lust, bigotry and slander streamed endlessly like a video loop until he cast it away. He didn’t even turn to address me, “You seem to have committed no atrocities, no war crimes. A few petty misdeeds, and certainly things that would have led to your disgrace under the old system, but far from the worst I’ve seen.” I shook my head softly in agreement. “So,” Another pause as he turned to face me again, “What lead you to choose this place? You have no family down here, no friends, no lovers. They’re up there, “ he pointed towards the roof of the chamber we were in, “enjoying themselves. Awaiting you.” Another pause, and then softer, “Everyone’s up there nowadays.” It was at this time that I could finally regard him directly, “And when I was hungry, cold, and alone…I remember what that felt like. They never helped me, instead I was saved by a very kind man who had never known me before. He said that I should do the same thing whenever I was given the opportunity, but I never was able to do so. Until now.” The Devil’s gaze softened, and he sat down on the same stool that I had encountered him on. He motioned me to join him on a similar one. “It’s been a long time since I was enjoyed for my company. Tell me, what would you like to do?” Sitting next to him, I only had one request: “Tell me your story, from your side of things.”	I nervously walked toward Satan with my hands fumbling in my pockets. Once I got close enough, I timidly said, "S-Satan?" "What?" He replied in his once mighty, but now broken voice. I took my hands out of my pocket holding a small dab rig and some wax paper with a sheet of melted oil on it. "Want to get High?" Satan stared for a moment and then shrugged and said, "Why not?" And Satan and I smoked and lived happily ever after for about 2 hours.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	I turned down yet another path in a seemingly endless series of caverns, finally seeing some form of light at the end of the tunnel. My feet ached and my eyes were sore from squinting in the gloom, but finally there was light. Stepping out of the tunnel, I found myself in a massive cavern, lit with torches, ringed with empty thrones meant for awesome and cruel masters. It seemed to stretch upward forever, fading into dark without any sign of end. There was music from somewhere, a soulful and bluesy tune. Reminded me of the songs my dad taught me when I was a kid. I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't this. I expected a little more foot traffic. "Excuse me?" I called into the gloom. My words reverberated off the walls and echoed up the chamber. Something's wrong, I thought. One expects some manner of greeting party, maybe an orientation, at the very least some security at the gates of Hell. All I see are stones and flames. I hear nothing the but the wistful notes of the song. "Is anybody home?" I called out again. The music stopped, cut off mid-melody, the last staccato note dying just as a new sound began; the beating of great, heavy wings. The chamber filled with a torrent of air as a shape began to coalesce in the darkness above. A massive beast, larger than any living creature that walks the earth, descended from the black above. His great scaled feet smashed into the earthen floor, large cruel talons digging into the rock. His skin had the red luminescence of magma, and his eyes were rings of flame. "You have disturbed my peace, mortal!" the beast cried, his mighty voice shaking the very ground below me. "What seek you in this place? Why come before the great and terrible Lucifer, prince of Darkness?" He lowered his head to look at me, one great eye fixed upon me. For a moment, fear held me. Then, I cleared my throat and spoke. "Ahem, well, um, I'm here to file for a B-32 post-Corporeal? I was told I need to bring this to your department directly for approval." I reached into my jacket and pulled out a manila envelope, offering it to him. The lord of darkness sighed a great sigh, bathing me in warm breath. "Very well," he said, "give me the document." He took the envelope from my hands and put on his massive, evil eyeglasses. He skimmed through the paperwork for a moment, muttering to himself. "Do you have two forms of photo ID with you?" he asked. "They're in the envelope," I shouted up to him. "Hm, yes, so they are." He read for another moment or two. "This is your current address on here?" he said, pointing to a line on the paper. I nodded, and he continued reading. I crossed my arms and rock back and forth a little, looking around with the aimless nature of curiosity and boredom. The wait seemed to go on forever. Satan, King of Evil, wrote something in pen on the margins of the paper and handed it back. "That looks like it's all in order," he said, "But you'll have to file a P-906 before February if you want to keep your soul after the first 300 centuries." "Great, thanks," I said. I looked back into the gloom behind me, tucking the envelope back into my pocket. I turned back to Satan for a moment. "Which, um...?" I began. "Back through the cave you came through, third tunnel on your right, then two lefts and you're out" he said, then flew back up into the darkness. As I walked back into the cave, I could hear the metal hum of a harmonica from somewhere far away.	I died so fast... It was over in an instant, shot through the head from over a mile away. I never could have seen it coming. I've done my share of crime, and I'll be the first to admit that my life was overrun with hatred and fear. So I always knew I would go to hell... but I didn't think it'd be like this. There is no fire and brimstone. There's just.. him. It's not as if he were alone in an empty room. There is absolutely nothing but him and his harmonica. I wasn't sure if I even existed with him. He didn't seem to notice me, even though I couldn't notice anything but him. The songs he played kept changing. First they'd begin, chaotic and malformed almost as if he had forgotten how to play. Slowly they would evolve, refine and swell into something that could only be described as beautiful. But then, undoubtedly, they would cease. I didn't feel time pass like I did when I was alive, it now seemed fickle. The only thing I knew was that each song lasted for a lifetime. Then I heard it begin. My song. I KNEW this song. I've heard it a thousand times in my dream. IT'S HERE. THIS IS MY LIFE. Every note played vibrated with my very existence. The sadness, the happiness, the fear, the joy, the anger, and every other emotion and thought was being poured out into this abyss. My very essence was being played for no one. That's when it dawned on me, that this truly was hell. Everything I'd worked so hard for, every trial I'd endured, and every person I'd loved. All my deeds and my will were to be lost into the infinite darkness. With nothing to witness me except for the devil himself, but just like the other songs, I too would be forgotten. The song began to end. His lips grew weary and his breath became short. I was overwhelmed with grief. I knew what was going to happen, because I'd seen it happen before. Just before the dread of my own demise shattered what little will I had left, it appeared. A speck, the smallest speck of dust that I'd ever seen. Floating in this abyss there was the faintest memory of life. The dust heard my song. The noise was picked up by this piece of... not nothing. To be heard by anything, even this speck brought upon immeasurable fulfillment. It was there, and it heard me. In that moment, there was nothing I felt more love for than a single shred of existence. I heard a voice from somewhere within my soul. A part of the song that I'd never known existed. "Do you want to be heard?" It asked, but my voice was gone. "Do you want to be seen?" It asked, but my body was gone. I tried with all my will to answer, to plea, to beg. My song was ending so fast that I knew something must be done so I stopped trying to beg for my life and I begged for everything else. Let life exist. Stop the spiral of gluttony that the abyss seems to bring. Sate its hunger and save the next life for mine has all but been consumed. And in the moment when all hope had nearly been lost and my song reached its final notes, I noticed another speck. Then another appeared. They began to fill the nothingness, these specks of existence flourished and moved. They witnessed my song and began to dance around the man, multiplying and mixing, each with its own movements. The bloom did not stop until there was no abyss, and the warmth of existence comforted me once again. The man stopped playing my song, because now existence itself carried my voice. Now I understand that what I knew to be my life was only the beginning. Now I know what it means to cast away my pride. Now I too, will be a shred of existence, bearing witness to the songs of others so that we may forever weave the web of fate.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	"OH SHI-" were the last syllables that ever escaped my mouth while still on Earth. As far as I can figure the crash killed me instantly, probably decapitating me. But that's all in the past now, I'm over it. I mean, it's not everyday you get to discover that there is indeed an afterlife, right? Only it's not exactly how I expected it to be. Don't get me wrong, I knew I was going to Hell, I just didn't expect it to be so...empty. As I walked through the hallways I realized they look almost identical to the halls of my high school, only with a tad bit more blood running down the walls. I roamed the halls until I happened upon some stairs that descended into a massive cavern, with fire lighting the walls, and standing torches illuminating the path to the center platform. Besides the stairs, the platform was the only surface to walk on. It was like an enormous pillar jutting out of a fiery pit. In the center of this platform, sat a depressed looking Satan on a throne of bones. I walked down the stairs and as I approached the throne I said "Hey man, you doin ok?" He looked at me, clearly very upset and cried out "Am I ok? Am I ok? LOOK AROUND! There's no one here!" I was taken aback slightly, but replied "Well what happened?" His face scrunched up. "It's that douchelord Gabriel. Ever since I got sent down here he thinks he's SOOOO much better than me. Well this time he messed up. He thinks he can just waltz down here and steal the souls that were allocated to me? No way Jose. Not on my watch. So THIS time, this time I get my revenge." Extremely curious as to what the master of deceit and twisted acts would have up his sleeve for revenge on his enemies, I asked "So...what are you gonna do to him?" His expression turned to a twisted grin and he said "You'll see." With a snap of his fingers we were teleported to the parking lot of a diner in what appeared to be a small country town, and Satan was disguised as a good ole country boy. "What are we doing here?" I asked. Lucy snapped "You humans. Why can you never just be patient and appreciate a good surprise every now and then?" With that I shut up, not wanting to anger him any more. We walked inside and sat down at a corner booth that enabled us to view the entire diner. Satan whispered "See that guy over there in the big cowboy hat?" I nodded. "That's Gabriel. It's his unlucky day." I still had no clue of what was to come but I was sure it would be horrendous. Gabriel looked to be nearing the end of his meal, and a waitress brought him his desert, a raspberry pie. Satan giggled like a school boy and said "Here it comes!" and as soon as Gabriel cut into his pie, it exploded, getting pie all over him, but causing no real damage. Satan doubled over with laughter and snapped a picture of Gabriel covered in pie with a Polaroid camera. Gabriel looked over to us, visibly confused about what had just happened, until it finally dawned on him who my companion was. "Satan" he growled. Then as quickly as we had gotten there we were back in hell on the pillar. The Lord of Darkness was still laughing incessantly, but just managed to get out the words "Did...did you see his face?" between giggles. "Yes. Yes I did." I replied. "But is that the best you could do?" I asked. He took a second and said "Well...it was a little impromptu...but you have to admit that was a great gag!" "Yeah I suppose so" I said "I guess I just expected the Lord of all that is unholy to be a little more...devious." He looked offended. "Look" he said, "Just because I'm the ruler of Hell doesn't mean I don't like to have some innocent fun sometimes." I considered it for a moment. "Fair enough" I responded, "It was a pretty fun prank." I could tell he wanted to say something, but he seemed almost...nervous? "Would...would you maybe want to stay down here with me and keep me company? I know Gabriel can take you to Heaven and all, but I'm really lonely, and you seem like a cool guy!" I was shocked at his offer. Stay in Hell when I could go to Heaven? Why in the world would I do that? Then I started thinking about the past hour and I thought, "Why not? He is lonely, and he does seem like an ok enough guy..." "So you'll do it?!" he practically shouted. "Oh sorry, I was reading your mind" he added. "Well...as long as you don't do the whole mind reading thing all the time, I'll stay." I said. He looked ecstatic. "YES! FINALLY A FRIEND!" Satan hopped off his thrown and said "Come on, let me show you around!" And with that we walked up the stairs and I began my life in Hell as Satan's bestie. Hey guys so I've never really done one of these before so feedback is welcome! I know it's long, but I don't really write often and the idea just kinda took off! Anyway, hope you like it :) Edit: broke up wall of text	I died so fast... It was over in an instant, shot through the head from over a mile away. I never could have seen it coming. I've done my share of crime, and I'll be the first to admit that my life was overrun with hatred and fear. So I always knew I would go to hell... but I didn't think it'd be like this. There is no fire and brimstone. There's just.. him. It's not as if he were alone in an empty room. There is absolutely nothing but him and his harmonica. I wasn't sure if I even existed with him. He didn't seem to notice me, even though I couldn't notice anything but him. The songs he played kept changing. First they'd begin, chaotic and malformed almost as if he had forgotten how to play. Slowly they would evolve, refine and swell into something that could only be described as beautiful. But then, undoubtedly, they would cease. I didn't feel time pass like I did when I was alive, it now seemed fickle. The only thing I knew was that each song lasted for a lifetime. Then I heard it begin. My song. I KNEW this song. I've heard it a thousand times in my dream. IT'S HERE. THIS IS MY LIFE. Every note played vibrated with my very existence. The sadness, the happiness, the fear, the joy, the anger, and every other emotion and thought was being poured out into this abyss. My very essence was being played for no one. That's when it dawned on me, that this truly was hell. Everything I'd worked so hard for, every trial I'd endured, and every person I'd loved. All my deeds and my will were to be lost into the infinite darkness. With nothing to witness me except for the devil himself, but just like the other songs, I too would be forgotten. The song began to end. His lips grew weary and his breath became short. I was overwhelmed with grief. I knew what was going to happen, because I'd seen it happen before. Just before the dread of my own demise shattered what little will I had left, it appeared. A speck, the smallest speck of dust that I'd ever seen. Floating in this abyss there was the faintest memory of life. The dust heard my song. The noise was picked up by this piece of... not nothing. To be heard by anything, even this speck brought upon immeasurable fulfillment. It was there, and it heard me. In that moment, there was nothing I felt more love for than a single shred of existence. I heard a voice from somewhere within my soul. A part of the song that I'd never known existed. "Do you want to be heard?" It asked, but my voice was gone. "Do you want to be seen?" It asked, but my body was gone. I tried with all my will to answer, to plea, to beg. My song was ending so fast that I knew something must be done so I stopped trying to beg for my life and I begged for everything else. Let life exist. Stop the spiral of gluttony that the abyss seems to bring. Sate its hunger and save the next life for mine has all but been consumed. And in the moment when all hope had nearly been lost and my song reached its final notes, I noticed another speck. Then another appeared. They began to fill the nothingness, these specks of existence flourished and moved. They witnessed my song and began to dance around the man, multiplying and mixing, each with its own movements. The bloom did not stop until there was no abyss, and the warmth of existence comforted me once again. The man stopped playing my song, because now existence itself carried my voice. Now I understand that what I knew to be my life was only the beginning. Now I know what it means to cast away my pride. Now I too, will be a shred of existence, bearing witness to the songs of others so that we may forever weave the web of fate.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	Black. Nothing. Am I asleep? No. Can't wake up. Am I..... Am I dead? Think... Oh. I remember. Oh God. "Ha! Wrong name pal. Call me Lucy." A warm sweet voice called out. Who? What is happening? Where is the voice? "Lucy! The Fallen One. You just died, honey. And I'm over here, open your eyes for me." She coaxes me. I slowly blink a few times. I'm suddenly aware that I'm back in my childhood home. I can smell the drool-inducing scent of my father's waffles wafting through the old stucco house. I look over to see a blond woman, sitting at the corner of my bed. "Where am I? When am I?" I stammer. "Why, you're in hell!" She smiled warmly. What? What? Actual hell? "That can't be right. This is my old home. I'm in bed. It's just you and I here. This has to be a dream." I reason out loud. "Oh trust me, honey. This is hell. I'm here to help you transition. See, hell isn't fire and brimstone. Not always. Some people live a heavenly life, but they live it poorly, and end up here. Their experiences tend to be of the torture garden variety." She patiently explained. "Then what about me? Am I on my way to a pain buffet?" I asked nervously. "No. Others, like you, live a hellish life, and committed sins because of the situation you were put in, and yet still deemed unworthy of heaven. However I've always felt that "hell" can be loosely defined..." she said with a smirk. "I don't understand." "Lucy's Loophole. The man upstairs is still fuming because our main Hell property is dead these days. I've even turned it into my private music studio!" Her eyes lit up at the mention of music. "You play?" I was warming up to this Lucy. "Just harmonica." She smiled. "Anyhoo! My loophole is I've developed these 'personal hells' for individuals whom I have judged to have already gone through hell. I return these chosen to where they felt most safe and loved. You have been through enough, dear one. But should you ever grow lonely here, I give lessons on the main property!" I laughed. "I may have to take you up on that sometime!" I gasped. It all went dark for a moment. My parent's home. My sister came back. She was off her medication. I was there for Mother's Day. She came with an axe, she just kept swinging it and screaming. Those blood curdling screams. My mom's and dad's mixing with my own. And then her laughter. Her harsh laughter grew more manic as did the puddle of blood around me. I can't. Black. "Woah there! You alright?" Lucy was cradling my head. "What happened?" I panted. "Your transition. You can't be here for eternity without accepting the end to your past." She was so kind, I wished she would stay with me here forever. "I accept what happened, but that doesn't make it okay. It doesn't mean I'm okay..." I trail off, tears threatening to spill over. "You're safe now. And if you'd like, I offer free therapy sessions in the main property, right next door to my music studio! I would love you to come by. Some music therapy is just what you need!" So kind. I closed my eyes. I am safe. I can move on. I can begin to heal. I am safe. Soft harmonica cords floated through the air, and danced into my mind. Safe.	I died so fast... It was over in an instant, shot through the head from over a mile away. I never could have seen it coming. I've done my share of crime, and I'll be the first to admit that my life was overrun with hatred and fear. So I always knew I would go to hell... but I didn't think it'd be like this. There is no fire and brimstone. There's just.. him. It's not as if he were alone in an empty room. There is absolutely nothing but him and his harmonica. I wasn't sure if I even existed with him. He didn't seem to notice me, even though I couldn't notice anything but him. The songs he played kept changing. First they'd begin, chaotic and malformed almost as if he had forgotten how to play. Slowly they would evolve, refine and swell into something that could only be described as beautiful. But then, undoubtedly, they would cease. I didn't feel time pass like I did when I was alive, it now seemed fickle. The only thing I knew was that each song lasted for a lifetime. Then I heard it begin. My song. I KNEW this song. I've heard it a thousand times in my dream. IT'S HERE. THIS IS MY LIFE. Every note played vibrated with my very existence. The sadness, the happiness, the fear, the joy, the anger, and every other emotion and thought was being poured out into this abyss. My very essence was being played for no one. That's when it dawned on me, that this truly was hell. Everything I'd worked so hard for, every trial I'd endured, and every person I'd loved. All my deeds and my will were to be lost into the infinite darkness. With nothing to witness me except for the devil himself, but just like the other songs, I too would be forgotten. The song began to end. His lips grew weary and his breath became short. I was overwhelmed with grief. I knew what was going to happen, because I'd seen it happen before. Just before the dread of my own demise shattered what little will I had left, it appeared. A speck, the smallest speck of dust that I'd ever seen. Floating in this abyss there was the faintest memory of life. The dust heard my song. The noise was picked up by this piece of... not nothing. To be heard by anything, even this speck brought upon immeasurable fulfillment. It was there, and it heard me. In that moment, there was nothing I felt more love for than a single shred of existence. I heard a voice from somewhere within my soul. A part of the song that I'd never known existed. "Do you want to be heard?" It asked, but my voice was gone. "Do you want to be seen?" It asked, but my body was gone. I tried with all my will to answer, to plea, to beg. My song was ending so fast that I knew something must be done so I stopped trying to beg for my life and I begged for everything else. Let life exist. Stop the spiral of gluttony that the abyss seems to bring. Sate its hunger and save the next life for mine has all but been consumed. And in the moment when all hope had nearly been lost and my song reached its final notes, I noticed another speck. Then another appeared. They began to fill the nothingness, these specks of existence flourished and moved. They witnessed my song and began to dance around the man, multiplying and mixing, each with its own movements. The bloom did not stop until there was no abyss, and the warmth of existence comforted me once again. The man stopped playing my song, because now existence itself carried my voice. Now I understand that what I knew to be my life was only the beginning. Now I know what it means to cast away my pride. Now I too, will be a shred of existence, bearing witness to the songs of others so that we may forever weave the web of fate.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	The sound of a harmonica fills her ears as her eyes open and all she can see is a lightly illuminated ceiling. The music has a melancholy tone to it. It sounds so lonely. The last thing she remembers was...She can't seem to recall the last thing she did. She runs her hands over the carpet that she finds herself lying on, it's very soft and comforting to her for some reason, for a few seconds before she sits up. Her neck feels kind of sore but she doesn't remember hurting it. "Hello." She turn towards the voice and her eyes are met with the back of a recliner in front of a lit fireplace. She can see a hand holding a glass of liquid. She assumes it's some kind of liquor but it could be something else. She stands straightening our her clothes before she approaches this stranger. "Have a seat." The hand with the glass gestures to a wooden chair next to them. She does as she's told and prepares to sit but when she looks over to the person sitting in the recliner, she stops. A stunningly gorgeous man ignores her gaze as he stares into the fire, the light dancing around his face. He's wearing a suit which looks quite nice on him. He takes a sip of his drink. "Ask away. I'm sure you have questions." "Who are you?" That was the only question floating around in her mind. "I'm Lucifer." He says still staring into the fire. A laugh bubbles up her throat. Suddenly, she's bent over holding her stomach as a raucous laugh escapes her mouth. Her eyes start to water after a few minutes. It takes a bit of time for her to collect herself as she sighs, still giggling occasionally. "I haven't heard anyone laugh like that for quite some time." He sighs. "But, that doesn't change the fact that I'm the devil and you're in hell." "Prove it." She cocks her head curiously. The man sighs again but more heavily this time as his form changes. His arms and legs lengthen, his fingers begin to resemble claws and his feet transform into hooves. A tail curls up from under his bottom and horns slowly, ever so slowly, sprout from his head. He goes from a gorgeous man to a beast. He takes his time and stays in this form for no more than a few seconds before changing back into a man. "Huh," she says, "I guess you really are the devil." "You seem pretty calm about this whole thing." He glances at her, his eyes the color of ice, interested by her response to him. "Aren't you going to beg to be sent to heaven? Make excuses of why you don't belong here? Cry?" "No. I figure if I'm here I did something to deserve it." She shrugs her shoulders. "You can sit, you know?" He quirks his eyebrow. So she does as he looks back into the fire. He takes a sip of his drink. "What are you drinking?" "Whiskey." "Can I have some?" "No." "Fine." She's getting a little frustrated with his one word answers and his disinterest in her. "Where are we?" "My home." "Why?" "Because." "Isn't there supposed to be demons or whatever?" "Gone." "Where?" He looks over to her, clearly annoyed. "Does it matter?" "Kind of." She looks right back into his piercing, cold eyes. "Why were you playing such a lonely melody? Is it because everyone's gone?" Suddenly he's right in her face barely more than an inch away; his hands on either arm rest trapping her. She jumps a bit. He stares hard at her, looking for any sign of fear in her eyes. She just sits calmly. There was nothing. No fear at all. "You don't remember anything, do you?" She shakes her head. "My neck's a bit sore, though." "Of course, it is." He sighs and let's his head hang, running a hand through his sleek black hair, before going over to a window. "Come." He commands. She goes to stand next to him and a small gasp escapes her lips. There was a field of grass outside of the house. At the edges, there was only reddish brown dirt. The sky was like a void, just blackness. The scene in front of her was somehow soothing. But what surprised her wasn't the fire that ran parallel to the vast expanse of dirt, it was the fact that there was literally no one. Not a single soul. He said that the demon's were gone but she wasn't expecting all of them to be gone. There wasn't even a demon butler at his command. "Where did they all go?" She whispered. "To heaven." Again, there was a glass of whiskey in his hand which he took a long sip of before swirling it around. "I guess God banishing me from Heaven wasn't punishment enough. He came and made this huge announcement. 'Everyone is hereby forgiven of their sins and may enter into my kingdom.'" Lucifer mocked in a high-pitched voice that made her smile. There was a smirk on his face in reply but it was quickly gone. "Everyone got pardoned, except me obviously, and now anyone who comes here can be cleansed and be on their way." "Even Hitler?" "Even Hitler." He sighed heavily again. "Why would anyone want to stay in hell when there's paradise waiting for them? It's the logical thing to do." He set his glass down on the windowsill. "So, you want to go right?" "I don't know." She stared out the window, and thought of the song she heard him playing before. It was so lonely and full of longing. She wouldn't want to spend eternity alone. She absentmindedly rubbed her neck as she thought of how someone would survive an existence with no one by their side. "Can you tell me what I did to end up here?" "Are you sure you want to know?" He cocked his eyebrow and he turned around to lean back. His elbows on the windowsill with his hands crossed in front of him. "Does it matter if you're going to heaven anyway?" "I want to know." She went back to her chair. "I want to decide for myself if I want to go." Lucifer watched her intently as she processed. "I hate to tell you this but I don't know either." He was feeling a little protective of this woman, he didn't like it but he did. He saw everything that happened to the people who came here. He could see the memories that she couldn't remember. He watched her write a note. He watched her kick over the chair she was standing on and he watched her twitch until she died. He hadn't felt this way since his wife. He grabbed his glass and returned to his recliner. "You're free to go." He waved his hand dismissively as he looked into the fire. "I want to stay." She blurted. "I would rather stay here." "Why? Everyone jumps at the chance to go to Heaven and you want to stay in the Fire Pit?" "Yeah." She sighed. "I've never really believed in you or God, but I do believe in fate and if that's what brought me here then this is where I'm supposed to be." "You do know what I do to people right?" "I'm aware." "And you still want to stay?" "Yes." He looked at her as if she had lost her mind but he knew that he wouldn't torture her. She had gone through enough on Earth that she took her own life. "There's nothing to do here. It's pretty boring." "That's fine." "I play the harmonica all the time." "I think it's nice." "You'll see a lot of people come through here, and some of them won't look so nice." "Then I won't look at them." "Alright." He conceded. "But you realize that you can't leave right?" She nodded her head. They stared at each other. Lucifer wondering why this girl was so determined to stay and the girl wondering what it would be like to live with the Devil in Hell. "Do you like dogs?" The girl smiled from ear to ear as she nodded her head vigorously. Lucifer got up from his chair so that he could whistle for Cerberus. "Rose." "What?" Lucifer turned to look at her from the doorway. "My name. It's Rose." "I know." Lucifer smirked devilishly at her as a giant dog came running towards the house. "Come meet my dog, Cerberus." Rose's smile never fell from her face. Thousand of years passed. All the people who came to hell almost immediately decided to go to Heaven. Lucifer and Rose passed the time with music, Him on his harmonica and her on the piano, or playing with Cerberus. Rose quickly came to realize that at the edge of Lucifer's lawn was a sheer cliff drop and she would sit out there often, always trying to remember how she died. Lucifer would watch her. He knew that she deserved to know but he didn't know how to bring it up. Sometimes he would sit with her and hold her hand. One day as their sitting on the cliff, a gentle breeze blowing, with one of Rose's hands in his and the other running through Cerberus's fur he looks at her. She's got a small smile on her lips, as always, and looks so content but he knows she's trying to remember. 'This is it.' he decides. He's got to tell her. "You hanged yourself." He said bluntly. "What?" Her smile falls and her face is full of confusion. "That's how you died." He sighs. "That's why you were sent here instead of Heaven." "Oh." She blinked a couple times. There was a long period where neither of them said anything. The memories were coming back to her. She remembered the letter she wrote and how she fought, instinctively, to get out of the noose. "I was lonely." She whispered. It was so quiet it almost couldn't be heard. "I couldn't take being so depressed and lonely all the time. It was too much." Her chest felt tight and there was a lump in her throat. "I couldn't handle it." She croaked. Lucifer watched her intently as she processed. He was afraid that she would want to leave and he would end up alone again. "I've known but I couldn't bring myself to tell you. You had already gone through so much hell. Unlike what I said when you got here, you can still decide to go to Heaven if you wish." "Thank you." To Lucifer's surprise Rose beamed at him and then looked out into the blazing horizon. "I won't leave. It's peaceful here and I enjoy spending my days with you." She squeezed his hand. "I love you, you know?" "I love you, too." This was the first time he had ever replied and the first time he had said it since his wife left him for paradise. They sat together for a long time after that just looking at the fire as the light danced across their faces.	I died so fast... It was over in an instant, shot through the head from over a mile away. I never could have seen it coming. I've done my share of crime, and I'll be the first to admit that my life was overrun with hatred and fear. So I always knew I would go to hell... but I didn't think it'd be like this. There is no fire and brimstone. There's just.. him. It's not as if he were alone in an empty room. There is absolutely nothing but him and his harmonica. I wasn't sure if I even existed with him. He didn't seem to notice me, even though I couldn't notice anything but him. The songs he played kept changing. First they'd begin, chaotic and malformed almost as if he had forgotten how to play. Slowly they would evolve, refine and swell into something that could only be described as beautiful. But then, undoubtedly, they would cease. I didn't feel time pass like I did when I was alive, it now seemed fickle. The only thing I knew was that each song lasted for a lifetime. Then I heard it begin. My song. I KNEW this song. I've heard it a thousand times in my dream. IT'S HERE. THIS IS MY LIFE. Every note played vibrated with my very existence. The sadness, the happiness, the fear, the joy, the anger, and every other emotion and thought was being poured out into this abyss. My very essence was being played for no one. That's when it dawned on me, that this truly was hell. Everything I'd worked so hard for, every trial I'd endured, and every person I'd loved. All my deeds and my will were to be lost into the infinite darkness. With nothing to witness me except for the devil himself, but just like the other songs, I too would be forgotten. The song began to end. His lips grew weary and his breath became short. I was overwhelmed with grief. I knew what was going to happen, because I'd seen it happen before. Just before the dread of my own demise shattered what little will I had left, it appeared. A speck, the smallest speck of dust that I'd ever seen. Floating in this abyss there was the faintest memory of life. The dust heard my song. The noise was picked up by this piece of... not nothing. To be heard by anything, even this speck brought upon immeasurable fulfillment. It was there, and it heard me. In that moment, there was nothing I felt more love for than a single shred of existence. I heard a voice from somewhere within my soul. A part of the song that I'd never known existed. "Do you want to be heard?" It asked, but my voice was gone. "Do you want to be seen?" It asked, but my body was gone. I tried with all my will to answer, to plea, to beg. My song was ending so fast that I knew something must be done so I stopped trying to beg for my life and I begged for everything else. Let life exist. Stop the spiral of gluttony that the abyss seems to bring. Sate its hunger and save the next life for mine has all but been consumed. And in the moment when all hope had nearly been lost and my song reached its final notes, I noticed another speck. Then another appeared. They began to fill the nothingness, these specks of existence flourished and moved. They witnessed my song and began to dance around the man, multiplying and mixing, each with its own movements. The bloom did not stop until there was no abyss, and the warmth of existence comforted me once again. The man stopped playing my song, because now existence itself carried my voice. Now I understand that what I knew to be my life was only the beginning. Now I know what it means to cast away my pride. Now I too, will be a shred of existence, bearing witness to the songs of others so that we may forever weave the web of fate.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	Hi this is my WP debut. I was very inspired by this thread even if I am late to the party! I did this on mobile at work so please excuse any errors. Feed back welcome :) ---------- The melody of the harmonica quietly resonated throughout the halls. It was a song, sweet as honey. The tune resonated deep within the mind but also pulled at the heart. Blood splattered the walls in an arching crescendo of horror. Bodies, dressed in white lined the floor unmoving. Music quietly continued to dance throughout the abandoned halls calmly, yet curious. Oblivious to state of disjointed harmony inside the complex, the world outside continued to turn. At the door to the complex a tactical team assembled. They formed a silent group of men dressed entirely in black and equipped with riot gear. There was a sudden bang of the main door being breached and subsequent pops as flash bang grenades and smoke grenades skittered, hissing, through the halls. The music stopped on que and the tactical team scattered like mice moving with a flawless, calculated efficiency up, over and around the endless amount of bodies. At the last door there was a pause. The entire building was consumed in total silence before the door was collapsed under the weight of a battering ram. The tactical team had breached the inner sanctum of my mind. I sat in pause, one leg crossed over the other. The tactical team encircled like sharks drawn to blood. Staring down the barrel of a gun, I stood. I reached out with the harmonica in my left hand. A twisted peace offering. "They just wanted to leave" I said as I let the harmonica tumble to the floor.	I died so fast... It was over in an instant, shot through the head from over a mile away. I never could have seen it coming. I've done my share of crime, and I'll be the first to admit that my life was overrun with hatred and fear. So I always knew I would go to hell... but I didn't think it'd be like this. There is no fire and brimstone. There's just.. him. It's not as if he were alone in an empty room. There is absolutely nothing but him and his harmonica. I wasn't sure if I even existed with him. He didn't seem to notice me, even though I couldn't notice anything but him. The songs he played kept changing. First they'd begin, chaotic and malformed almost as if he had forgotten how to play. Slowly they would evolve, refine and swell into something that could only be described as beautiful. But then, undoubtedly, they would cease. I didn't feel time pass like I did when I was alive, it now seemed fickle. The only thing I knew was that each song lasted for a lifetime. Then I heard it begin. My song. I KNEW this song. I've heard it a thousand times in my dream. IT'S HERE. THIS IS MY LIFE. Every note played vibrated with my very existence. The sadness, the happiness, the fear, the joy, the anger, and every other emotion and thought was being poured out into this abyss. My very essence was being played for no one. That's when it dawned on me, that this truly was hell. Everything I'd worked so hard for, every trial I'd endured, and every person I'd loved. All my deeds and my will were to be lost into the infinite darkness. With nothing to witness me except for the devil himself, but just like the other songs, I too would be forgotten. The song began to end. His lips grew weary and his breath became short. I was overwhelmed with grief. I knew what was going to happen, because I'd seen it happen before. Just before the dread of my own demise shattered what little will I had left, it appeared. A speck, the smallest speck of dust that I'd ever seen. Floating in this abyss there was the faintest memory of life. The dust heard my song. The noise was picked up by this piece of... not nothing. To be heard by anything, even this speck brought upon immeasurable fulfillment. It was there, and it heard me. In that moment, there was nothing I felt more love for than a single shred of existence. I heard a voice from somewhere within my soul. A part of the song that I'd never known existed. "Do you want to be heard?" It asked, but my voice was gone. "Do you want to be seen?" It asked, but my body was gone. I tried with all my will to answer, to plea, to beg. My song was ending so fast that I knew something must be done so I stopped trying to beg for my life and I begged for everything else. Let life exist. Stop the spiral of gluttony that the abyss seems to bring. Sate its hunger and save the next life for mine has all but been consumed. And in the moment when all hope had nearly been lost and my song reached its final notes, I noticed another speck. Then another appeared. They began to fill the nothingness, these specks of existence flourished and moved. They witnessed my song and began to dance around the man, multiplying and mixing, each with its own movements. The bloom did not stop until there was no abyss, and the warmth of existence comforted me once again. The man stopped playing my song, because now existence itself carried my voice. Now I understand that what I knew to be my life was only the beginning. Now I know what it means to cast away my pride. Now I too, will be a shred of existence, bearing witness to the songs of others so that we may forever weave the web of fate.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	"Hello?" I called out into a seemingly endless abyss. I heard a weepy wobbly minor chord play on a harmonica behind me. There, in front of my own two eyes was the lord of darkness himself, slouched back on a rocking chair playing the blues. I trembled in his presence but noticed he was unamused by me. "Um, hi." I said quietly. He spat what appeared to be lava into a spittoon that seemingly constituted itself. "What you want?" He said in a low charred voice. "Are you...the devil?" "You mean the ruler of the underworld, Diablo, king of the damned, foulest of the foul? "Yeah him." "That guy hasn't been around here for a while, looks like nobody needs him anymore. He's out of a job. It's just me, Rusty McJackoff." I could see that he was down on his luck, so I walked over to him and went down to one knee. "There's nobody here who wants to drown my blasphemous soul in lakes of fire?" I could see his eyes light up, literally, flames appeared in his eyes, but it was to no avail. "He's dead." Satan threw his harmonica yards into the distance and crossed his arms. "I bet he's here. He's just...out of practice." Satan narrowed his eyes and stuck his claw out at me, "You gonna leave like the rest of 'um?" I put my hands in my pockets and shrugged my shoulders, "Well, most of the people who I can't stand are in Heaven. And if I'm the only one here, maybe we can be friends for eternity." Satan disappeared in a cloud of smoke then reappeared in front of me, in a fine demonic suit and with a red pitch fork. "I still have to torture your soul, but we can hang out. I can promote you to demon if things go well." "I had a feeling you'd say that. Eh, that's fine." Satan looked at me and smiled, "Wow, you are a great guy, why did you even get sent here?" I sighed, "I'm gay and Jewish." Satan rolled his eyes, "You know that's bullshit. Let me check your sins...Wow, I'm impressed. Murder seems to be your favorite." "Eh, it's a living." I grin from ear to ear. We both high five. End.	I died so fast... It was over in an instant, shot through the head from over a mile away. I never could have seen it coming. I've done my share of crime, and I'll be the first to admit that my life was overrun with hatred and fear. So I always knew I would go to hell... but I didn't think it'd be like this. There is no fire and brimstone. There's just.. him. It's not as if he were alone in an empty room. There is absolutely nothing but him and his harmonica. I wasn't sure if I even existed with him. He didn't seem to notice me, even though I couldn't notice anything but him. The songs he played kept changing. First they'd begin, chaotic and malformed almost as if he had forgotten how to play. Slowly they would evolve, refine and swell into something that could only be described as beautiful. But then, undoubtedly, they would cease. I didn't feel time pass like I did when I was alive, it now seemed fickle. The only thing I knew was that each song lasted for a lifetime. Then I heard it begin. My song. I KNEW this song. I've heard it a thousand times in my dream. IT'S HERE. THIS IS MY LIFE. Every note played vibrated with my very existence. The sadness, the happiness, the fear, the joy, the anger, and every other emotion and thought was being poured out into this abyss. My very essence was being played for no one. That's when it dawned on me, that this truly was hell. Everything I'd worked so hard for, every trial I'd endured, and every person I'd loved. All my deeds and my will were to be lost into the infinite darkness. With nothing to witness me except for the devil himself, but just like the other songs, I too would be forgotten. The song began to end. His lips grew weary and his breath became short. I was overwhelmed with grief. I knew what was going to happen, because I'd seen it happen before. Just before the dread of my own demise shattered what little will I had left, it appeared. A speck, the smallest speck of dust that I'd ever seen. Floating in this abyss there was the faintest memory of life. The dust heard my song. The noise was picked up by this piece of... not nothing. To be heard by anything, even this speck brought upon immeasurable fulfillment. It was there, and it heard me. In that moment, there was nothing I felt more love for than a single shred of existence. I heard a voice from somewhere within my soul. A part of the song that I'd never known existed. "Do you want to be heard?" It asked, but my voice was gone. "Do you want to be seen?" It asked, but my body was gone. I tried with all my will to answer, to plea, to beg. My song was ending so fast that I knew something must be done so I stopped trying to beg for my life and I begged for everything else. Let life exist. Stop the spiral of gluttony that the abyss seems to bring. Sate its hunger and save the next life for mine has all but been consumed. And in the moment when all hope had nearly been lost and my song reached its final notes, I noticed another speck. Then another appeared. They began to fill the nothingness, these specks of existence flourished and moved. They witnessed my song and began to dance around the man, multiplying and mixing, each with its own movements. The bloom did not stop until there was no abyss, and the warmth of existence comforted me once again. The man stopped playing my song, because now existence itself carried my voice. Now I understand that what I knew to be my life was only the beginning. Now I know what it means to cast away my pride. Now I too, will be a shred of existence, bearing witness to the songs of others so that we may forever weave the web of fate.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	There were no screams when I entered Hell. I was shocked, having been raised in a Christian family, but there were no sounds of people being tortured, no crackling of the insane demons who resided in the pits of Hell. The only sound I was the sound of a harmonica, playing a very blues-esc tune. I did what was natural to a person in an unfamiliar landscape- I followed the sound. It walked for what felt like hours searching for the source of the music. Through lakes of fire and fields of brimstone I traveled before finally seeing who- or what- was playing the harmonica. I thought I was prepared for anything. I was not prepared to see Satan, the King of Babylon himself, playing the harmonica whilst looking miserable. He had noticed me almost immediately, and stopped playing. "Why are you still here?" He had asked, his voice filled with sadness and.. something else. Was it anger? Hatred? I couldn't tell. "What do you mean? This is Hell, where the sinners go for eternal damnation. I can't leave," I replied, staring at him. I quickly jumped back when I realized that I was having a civil conversation with the Evil One. Satan sighed, and the harmonica burned to a crisp, as though it were made out of paper. "You've noticed it, haven't you? The lack of screaming, the terrifying silence, the emptyness. People- and demons- have been leaving here, escaping their eternal punishment, all due to Him offering them salvation, even after thousands of years of sins and punishment. He updated his rules, just because of His son's return to Earth," he pauses, looking out over the fields formerly filled with scores of tortured souls. "So you are saying that I am free to go to Heaven, despite having committed the horrid crimes that I have?" He nods, looking at me. "You aren't even supposed to be in here for that. What you did was self defense. The suicide afterwards is what sent you here, but yes, mortal. You may leave. All you must do is pray towards Him. It will burn, but you will be immortalized in Heaven. No leave- I will be practicing my harmonica," at this point, he sounded downright miserable. I felt bad for the devil. I pitied Lucifer, and I shouldn't. I should fear him, but he sounds so broken. Millennia of watching over the worst people that the Earth has known, undone due to a change of God's Terms of Service. I made a decision that would define me for eternity. "I have a question for you, Abaddon," He looks at me, surprised at either being addressed directly by a mortal, or being called by his Hebrew name. "You play harmonica, but, according to an old bluegrass song, you played the fiddle. Is that true?" He laughed, grinning. "Well, seems like that old contest with Johnny is famous after all. I understand that you played the fiddle when you were among the mortal plane?" I nodded. "You could probably teach me a few things though. The question is, will you?" "Of course I will. Beware though- this training will put you through Hell," he laughed, crafting two violins out of the fire surrounding us. "It's a good thing that I'm already there then, right?" And then we played.	I died so fast... It was over in an instant, shot through the head from over a mile away. I never could have seen it coming. I've done my share of crime, and I'll be the first to admit that my life was overrun with hatred and fear. So I always knew I would go to hell... but I didn't think it'd be like this. There is no fire and brimstone. There's just.. him. It's not as if he were alone in an empty room. There is absolutely nothing but him and his harmonica. I wasn't sure if I even existed with him. He didn't seem to notice me, even though I couldn't notice anything but him. The songs he played kept changing. First they'd begin, chaotic and malformed almost as if he had forgotten how to play. Slowly they would evolve, refine and swell into something that could only be described as beautiful. But then, undoubtedly, they would cease. I didn't feel time pass like I did when I was alive, it now seemed fickle. The only thing I knew was that each song lasted for a lifetime. Then I heard it begin. My song. I KNEW this song. I've heard it a thousand times in my dream. IT'S HERE. THIS IS MY LIFE. Every note played vibrated with my very existence. The sadness, the happiness, the fear, the joy, the anger, and every other emotion and thought was being poured out into this abyss. My very essence was being played for no one. That's when it dawned on me, that this truly was hell. Everything I'd worked so hard for, every trial I'd endured, and every person I'd loved. All my deeds and my will were to be lost into the infinite darkness. With nothing to witness me except for the devil himself, but just like the other songs, I too would be forgotten. The song began to end. His lips grew weary and his breath became short. I was overwhelmed with grief. I knew what was going to happen, because I'd seen it happen before. Just before the dread of my own demise shattered what little will I had left, it appeared. A speck, the smallest speck of dust that I'd ever seen. Floating in this abyss there was the faintest memory of life. The dust heard my song. The noise was picked up by this piece of... not nothing. To be heard by anything, even this speck brought upon immeasurable fulfillment. It was there, and it heard me. In that moment, there was nothing I felt more love for than a single shred of existence. I heard a voice from somewhere within my soul. A part of the song that I'd never known existed. "Do you want to be heard?" It asked, but my voice was gone. "Do you want to be seen?" It asked, but my body was gone. I tried with all my will to answer, to plea, to beg. My song was ending so fast that I knew something must be done so I stopped trying to beg for my life and I begged for everything else. Let life exist. Stop the spiral of gluttony that the abyss seems to bring. Sate its hunger and save the next life for mine has all but been consumed. And in the moment when all hope had nearly been lost and my song reached its final notes, I noticed another speck. Then another appeared. They began to fill the nothingness, these specks of existence flourished and moved. They witnessed my song and began to dance around the man, multiplying and mixing, each with its own movements. The bloom did not stop until there was no abyss, and the warmth of existence comforted me once again. The man stopped playing my song, because now existence itself carried my voice. Now I understand that what I knew to be my life was only the beginning. Now I know what it means to cast away my pride. Now I too, will be a shred of existence, bearing witness to the songs of others so that we may forever weave the web of fate.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	The sound of a harmonica fills her ears as her eyes open and all she can see is a lightly illuminated ceiling. The music has a melancholy tone to it. It sounds so lonely. The last thing she remembers was...She can't seem to recall the last thing she did. She runs her hands over the carpet that she finds herself lying on, it's very soft and comforting to her for some reason, for a few seconds before she sits up. Her neck feels kind of sore but she doesn't remember hurting it. "Hello." She turn towards the voice and her eyes are met with the back of a recliner in front of a lit fireplace. She can see a hand holding a glass of liquid. She assumes it's some kind of liquor but it could be something else. She stands straightening our her clothes before she approaches this stranger. "Have a seat." The hand with the glass gestures to a wooden chair next to them. She does as she's told and prepares to sit but when she looks over to the person sitting in the recliner, she stops. A stunningly gorgeous man ignores her gaze as he stares into the fire, the light dancing around his face. He's wearing a suit which looks quite nice on him. He takes a sip of his drink. "Ask away. I'm sure you have questions." "Who are you?" That was the only question floating around in her mind. "I'm Lucifer." He says still staring into the fire. A laugh bubbles up her throat. Suddenly, she's bent over holding her stomach as a raucous laugh escapes her mouth. Her eyes start to water after a few minutes. It takes a bit of time for her to collect herself as she sighs, still giggling occasionally. "I haven't heard anyone laugh like that for quite some time." He sighs. "But, that doesn't change the fact that I'm the devil and you're in hell." "Prove it." She cocks her head curiously. The man sighs again but more heavily this time as his form changes. His arms and legs lengthen, his fingers begin to resemble claws and his feet transform into hooves. A tail curls up from under his bottom and horns slowly, ever so slowly, sprout from his head. He goes from a gorgeous man to a beast. He takes his time and stays in this form for no more than a few seconds before changing back into a man. "Huh," she says, "I guess you really are the devil." "You seem pretty calm about this whole thing." He glances at her, his eyes the color of ice, interested by her response to him. "Aren't you going to beg to be sent to heaven? Make excuses of why you don't belong here? Cry?" "No. I figure if I'm here I did something to deserve it." She shrugs her shoulders. "You can sit, you know?" He quirks his eyebrow. So she does as he looks back into the fire. He takes a sip of his drink. "What are you drinking?" "Whiskey." "Can I have some?" "No." "Fine." She's getting a little frustrated with his one word answers and his disinterest in her. "Where are we?" "My home." "Why?" "Because." "Isn't there supposed to be demons or whatever?" "Gone." "Where?" He looks over to her, clearly annoyed. "Does it matter?" "Kind of." She looks right back into his piercing, cold eyes. "Why were you playing such a lonely melody? Is it because everyone's gone?" Suddenly he's right in her face barely more than an inch away; his hands on either arm rest trapping her. She jumps a bit. He stares hard at her, looking for any sign of fear in her eyes. She just sits calmly. There was nothing. No fear at all. "You don't remember anything, do you?" She shakes her head. "My neck's a bit sore, though." "Of course, it is." He sighs and let's his head hang, running a hand through his sleek black hair, before going over to a window. "Come." He commands. She goes to stand next to him and a small gasp escapes her lips. There was a field of grass outside of the house. At the edges, there was only reddish brown dirt. The sky was like a void, just blackness. The scene in front of her was somehow soothing. But what surprised her wasn't the fire that ran parallel to the vast expanse of dirt, it was the fact that there was literally no one. Not a single soul. He said that the demon's were gone but she wasn't expecting all of them to be gone. There wasn't even a demon butler at his command. "Where did they all go?" She whispered. "To heaven." Again, there was a glass of whiskey in his hand which he took a long sip of before swirling it around. "I guess God banishing me from Heaven wasn't punishment enough. He came and made this huge announcement. 'Everyone is hereby forgiven of their sins and may enter into my kingdom.'" Lucifer mocked in a high-pitched voice that made her smile. There was a smirk on his face in reply but it was quickly gone. "Everyone got pardoned, except me obviously, and now anyone who comes here can be cleansed and be on their way." "Even Hitler?" "Even Hitler." He sighed heavily again. "Why would anyone want to stay in hell when there's paradise waiting for them? It's the logical thing to do." He set his glass down on the windowsill. "So, you want to go right?" "I don't know." She stared out the window, and thought of the song she heard him playing before. It was so lonely and full of longing. She wouldn't want to spend eternity alone. She absentmindedly rubbed her neck as she thought of how someone would survive an existence with no one by their side. "Can you tell me what I did to end up here?" "Are you sure you want to know?" He cocked his eyebrow and he turned around to lean back. His elbows on the windowsill with his hands crossed in front of him. "Does it matter if you're going to heaven anyway?" "I want to know." She went back to her chair. "I want to decide for myself if I want to go." Lucifer watched her intently as she processed. "I hate to tell you this but I don't know either." He was feeling a little protective of this woman, he didn't like it but he did. He saw everything that happened to the people who came here. He could see the memories that she couldn't remember. He watched her write a note. He watched her kick over the chair she was standing on and he watched her twitch until she died. He hadn't felt this way since his wife. He grabbed his glass and returned to his recliner. "You're free to go." He waved his hand dismissively as he looked into the fire. "I want to stay." She blurted. "I would rather stay here." "Why? Everyone jumps at the chance to go to Heaven and you want to stay in the Fire Pit?" "Yeah." She sighed. "I've never really believed in you or God, but I do believe in fate and if that's what brought me here then this is where I'm supposed to be." "You do know what I do to people right?" "I'm aware." "And you still want to stay?" "Yes." He looked at her as if she had lost her mind but he knew that he wouldn't torture her. She had gone through enough on Earth that she took her own life. "There's nothing to do here. It's pretty boring." "That's fine." "I play the harmonica all the time." "I think it's nice." "You'll see a lot of people come through here, and some of them won't look so nice." "Then I won't look at them." "Alright." He conceded. "But you realize that you can't leave right?" She nodded her head. They stared at each other. Lucifer wondering why this girl was so determined to stay and the girl wondering what it would be like to live with the Devil in Hell. "Do you like dogs?" The girl smiled from ear to ear as she nodded her head vigorously. Lucifer got up from his chair so that he could whistle for Cerberus. "Rose." "What?" Lucifer turned to look at her from the doorway. "My name. It's Rose." "I know." Lucifer smirked devilishly at her as a giant dog came running towards the house. "Come meet my dog, Cerberus." Rose's smile never fell from her face. Thousand of years passed. All the people who came to hell almost immediately decided to go to Heaven. Lucifer and Rose passed the time with music, Him on his harmonica and her on the piano, or playing with Cerberus. Rose quickly came to realize that at the edge of Lucifer's lawn was a sheer cliff drop and she would sit out there often, always trying to remember how she died. Lucifer would watch her. He knew that she deserved to know but he didn't know how to bring it up. Sometimes he would sit with her and hold her hand. One day as their sitting on the cliff, a gentle breeze blowing, with one of Rose's hands in his and the other running through Cerberus's fur he looks at her. She's got a small smile on her lips, as always, and looks so content but he knows she's trying to remember. 'This is it.' he decides. He's got to tell her. "You hanged yourself." He said bluntly. "What?" Her smile falls and her face is full of confusion. "That's how you died." He sighs. "That's why you were sent here instead of Heaven." "Oh." She blinked a couple times. There was a long period where neither of them said anything. The memories were coming back to her. She remembered the letter she wrote and how she fought, instinctively, to get out of the noose. "I was lonely." She whispered. It was so quiet it almost couldn't be heard. "I couldn't take being so depressed and lonely all the time. It was too much." Her chest felt tight and there was a lump in her throat. "I couldn't handle it." She croaked. Lucifer watched her intently as she processed. He was afraid that she would want to leave and he would end up alone again. "I've known but I couldn't bring myself to tell you. You had already gone through so much hell. Unlike what I said when you got here, you can still decide to go to Heaven if you wish." "Thank you." To Lucifer's surprise Rose beamed at him and then looked out into the blazing horizon. "I won't leave. It's peaceful here and I enjoy spending my days with you." She squeezed his hand. "I love you, you know?" "I love you, too." This was the first time he had ever replied and the first time he had said it since his wife left him for paradise. They sat together for a long time after that just looking at the fire as the light danced across their faces.	I awaken in a comfortable chair, but an unfamiliar form. My ears are ringing, and my head is spinning. I have no idea where I am. The room is dim and empty, only myself. It blackens again, and I find myself in the same chair, but well rested. My ears perk up to a wonderful tune, and I turn my head to find a shadowy figure playing a gleaming golden harmonica, so beautifully. Their breath travelled through it so flawlessly, but with such ferocity, like a lonely hurricane, on an infinitely calm ocean. Suddenly, they stop. Slowly, the light shifts, and my eyes are transfixed on this being. The Devil. But something was not right. He was not as I imagined. He was calm and collected, like he was wearing a suit of honesty underneath his red scales. A deep, smooth voice transcends from his lips. He spoke with care, like he'd crafted his words for all of his eternity. "You're a beautiful woman, Maria. Why did you have to do it?" "Do what?" I slurred, with an unwoken expression. My voice surprised me. It was young, unused. Like I'd never surfaced a single emotion. "Take your own life. You made a promise..." He went on. His voice flowed like liquid, yet somehow sounded concerned. "You would find someone, as deserving of happiness as you were lacking..." "And I would deliver to them what I could not for myself." I finished, in an almost entranced manner. "Indeed, yet here you are, in this barren land, with nothing to show." He sounded almost surprised. Then I realised what had just been spoken. I killed myself? Does that mean... "Yes, Maria" He replied, like he was reading my thoughts. "This is Hell. Welcome." "Where is everyone?" "They left. God's Perfect Kingdom is once more forgiving. Everyone has gone to heaven, yet, I'm still condemned to this damned place. Feel's like it's been an eternity..." He chuckled softly. "So, I don't have to stay? How do I get out?" With a disappointed sigh, he simply gestured to a fire place. I suddenly realised we were in a different room. As he parted the fire, revealing pearly gates from beyond, I astoundingly asked, "Weren't we in a different room before?" "Yes, we were. In fact, since last time you took notice, I've renovated it 7 times." A smile of amusement spread across my face, which promptly spread to the Devil's own. I stood and approached the fire place, ready to leave and enter the pearly gates, but yet it simply didn't feel right. The walls shifted from a warm orange to a shattering blue. I turned to the Devil, where he sat, head resting on his hand. He quickly looked up at me, and with a temper, yelled at me. "Go! Get out of this place. Your soul is free!" It wasn't a temper of an eternal rage. It was of emotion. Sorrow. His head sunk back into his hand, where he appeared almost limp. "I can't. It's just not right." He rose from his chair, harmonica falling from his lap to his feet. His face compressed with rage, and his scales illuminated red. The walls were nothing but fire. "But you can! You can let your soul live on, with every other, and alongside God, himself!" His voice echoed through the realm, quivering. His stare pierced my soul, his words rattled the ground beneath me, but I stood calmly. "But I made a promise." His eyes turned ice cold. The fires surrounding me were extinguished, as if they were never lit. He fell to his knees, and began softly sobbing. I approached him, to comfort him. It seemed as though his scales melted to the touch, as if his fierce armour had worn. He stood up straight, with a tear in his eye, and pulled me close. He rapped his arms around me as I sunk into his 7' figure. That's how I kept my promise. That's how I met my husband.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	Hi this is my WP debut. I was very inspired by this thread even if I am late to the party! I did this on mobile at work so please excuse any errors. Feed back welcome :) ---------- The melody of the harmonica quietly resonated throughout the halls. It was a song, sweet as honey. The tune resonated deep within the mind but also pulled at the heart. Blood splattered the walls in an arching crescendo of horror. Bodies, dressed in white lined the floor unmoving. Music quietly continued to dance throughout the abandoned halls calmly, yet curious. Oblivious to state of disjointed harmony inside the complex, the world outside continued to turn. At the door to the complex a tactical team assembled. They formed a silent group of men dressed entirely in black and equipped with riot gear. There was a sudden bang of the main door being breached and subsequent pops as flash bang grenades and smoke grenades skittered, hissing, through the halls. The music stopped on que and the tactical team scattered like mice moving with a flawless, calculated efficiency up, over and around the endless amount of bodies. At the last door there was a pause. The entire building was consumed in total silence before the door was collapsed under the weight of a battering ram. The tactical team had breached the inner sanctum of my mind. I sat in pause, one leg crossed over the other. The tactical team encircled like sharks drawn to blood. Staring down the barrel of a gun, I stood. I reached out with the harmonica in my left hand. A twisted peace offering. "They just wanted to leave" I said as I let the harmonica tumble to the floor.	I awaken in a comfortable chair, but an unfamiliar form. My ears are ringing, and my head is spinning. I have no idea where I am. The room is dim and empty, only myself. It blackens again, and I find myself in the same chair, but well rested. My ears perk up to a wonderful tune, and I turn my head to find a shadowy figure playing a gleaming golden harmonica, so beautifully. Their breath travelled through it so flawlessly, but with such ferocity, like a lonely hurricane, on an infinitely calm ocean. Suddenly, they stop. Slowly, the light shifts, and my eyes are transfixed on this being. The Devil. But something was not right. He was not as I imagined. He was calm and collected, like he was wearing a suit of honesty underneath his red scales. A deep, smooth voice transcends from his lips. He spoke with care, like he'd crafted his words for all of his eternity. "You're a beautiful woman, Maria. Why did you have to do it?" "Do what?" I slurred, with an unwoken expression. My voice surprised me. It was young, unused. Like I'd never surfaced a single emotion. "Take your own life. You made a promise..." He went on. His voice flowed like liquid, yet somehow sounded concerned. "You would find someone, as deserving of happiness as you were lacking..." "And I would deliver to them what I could not for myself." I finished, in an almost entranced manner. "Indeed, yet here you are, in this barren land, with nothing to show." He sounded almost surprised. Then I realised what had just been spoken. I killed myself? Does that mean... "Yes, Maria" He replied, like he was reading my thoughts. "This is Hell. Welcome." "Where is everyone?" "They left. God's Perfect Kingdom is once more forgiving. Everyone has gone to heaven, yet, I'm still condemned to this damned place. Feel's like it's been an eternity..." He chuckled softly. "So, I don't have to stay? How do I get out?" With a disappointed sigh, he simply gestured to a fire place. I suddenly realised we were in a different room. As he parted the fire, revealing pearly gates from beyond, I astoundingly asked, "Weren't we in a different room before?" "Yes, we were. In fact, since last time you took notice, I've renovated it 7 times." A smile of amusement spread across my face, which promptly spread to the Devil's own. I stood and approached the fire place, ready to leave and enter the pearly gates, but yet it simply didn't feel right. The walls shifted from a warm orange to a shattering blue. I turned to the Devil, where he sat, head resting on his hand. He quickly looked up at me, and with a temper, yelled at me. "Go! Get out of this place. Your soul is free!" It wasn't a temper of an eternal rage. It was of emotion. Sorrow. His head sunk back into his hand, where he appeared almost limp. "I can't. It's just not right." He rose from his chair, harmonica falling from his lap to his feet. His face compressed with rage, and his scales illuminated red. The walls were nothing but fire. "But you can! You can let your soul live on, with every other, and alongside God, himself!" His voice echoed through the realm, quivering. His stare pierced my soul, his words rattled the ground beneath me, but I stood calmly. "But I made a promise." His eyes turned ice cold. The fires surrounding me were extinguished, as if they were never lit. He fell to his knees, and began softly sobbing. I approached him, to comfort him. It seemed as though his scales melted to the touch, as if his fierce armour had worn. He stood up straight, with a tear in his eye, and pulled me close. He rapped his arms around me as I sunk into his 7' figure. That's how I kept my promise. That's how I met my husband.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	Hi this is my WP debut. I was very inspired by this thread even if I am late to the party! I did this on mobile at work so please excuse any errors. Feed back welcome :) ---------- The melody of the harmonica quietly resonated throughout the halls. It was a song, sweet as honey. The tune resonated deep within the mind but also pulled at the heart. Blood splattered the walls in an arching crescendo of horror. Bodies, dressed in white lined the floor unmoving. Music quietly continued to dance throughout the abandoned halls calmly, yet curious. Oblivious to state of disjointed harmony inside the complex, the world outside continued to turn. At the door to the complex a tactical team assembled. They formed a silent group of men dressed entirely in black and equipped with riot gear. There was a sudden bang of the main door being breached and subsequent pops as flash bang grenades and smoke grenades skittered, hissing, through the halls. The music stopped on que and the tactical team scattered like mice moving with a flawless, calculated efficiency up, over and around the endless amount of bodies. At the last door there was a pause. The entire building was consumed in total silence before the door was collapsed under the weight of a battering ram. The tactical team had breached the inner sanctum of my mind. I sat in pause, one leg crossed over the other. The tactical team encircled like sharks drawn to blood. Staring down the barrel of a gun, I stood. I reached out with the harmonica in my left hand. A twisted peace offering. "They just wanted to leave" I said as I let the harmonica tumble to the floor.	"Sup man," I said, raising my right arm weakly. Sure, I was nervous, but the red and furry little creature reclining in a La-z-boy recliner reading a book with half frame glasses struck a genuine chord within me. Startled, the nefarious imp put down his novel, "Keeping the Hearth Clean; a Book of Maintenance for Your Home and Heart,", and took of his reading glasses. He folded them up, deliberately, and placed them on top of the book on a side table. He struggled to arise from the recliner, pulling levers and leaning forward before practically leaping away from the thing. He walked up to me, extended a hand smoothly, and said, "How do you do, Tim?" Naturally, I raised my own hand and clasped his in a firm shake. But only during the release, as my wrist went limp back to my side, did I realize just how uncomfortable it was to have someone know absolutely everything about you and your life. Your thoughts, your name. Your memories, your betrayals. My life rushed through my body. I had always believed in a real life magic, existing in subservient subtlety behind known science. But here, in this devil's lair, I could see the swirling power of emotions crashing through my body. Slashing through any walls I had maintaining my posture. With sad, puppy-round eyes, the demon looked upon me. It seemed his gaze was from high above, despite his meager three feet of height. The burden of wisdom become suddenly apparent to me. His shoulders were tiny, his frame was frail. And yet, at the edges, if i peered through my own swirling mists of memories, I could see the vestiges of a powerful omnipotence, rivaled only by God himself, that fuck. With a crack and a snap, my miasma of magic dissipated. Lucifer said clearly, "I know why you are here,". He paused. It seemed the little red rocket of evil was choking up. "Lets go play some games," He turned away and walked into his massive parlor, beckoning me to follow. You see, God has a rule. A rule I broke on purpose. And even if I could get into Heaven now, with all the other sinners and saints; that is not why I fucking killed myself.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	Hi this is my WP debut. I was very inspired by this thread even if I am late to the party! I did this on mobile at work so please excuse any errors. Feed back welcome :) ---------- The melody of the harmonica quietly resonated throughout the halls. It was a song, sweet as honey. The tune resonated deep within the mind but also pulled at the heart. Blood splattered the walls in an arching crescendo of horror. Bodies, dressed in white lined the floor unmoving. Music quietly continued to dance throughout the abandoned halls calmly, yet curious. Oblivious to state of disjointed harmony inside the complex, the world outside continued to turn. At the door to the complex a tactical team assembled. They formed a silent group of men dressed entirely in black and equipped with riot gear. There was a sudden bang of the main door being breached and subsequent pops as flash bang grenades and smoke grenades skittered, hissing, through the halls. The music stopped on que and the tactical team scattered like mice moving with a flawless, calculated efficiency up, over and around the endless amount of bodies. At the last door there was a pause. The entire building was consumed in total silence before the door was collapsed under the weight of a battering ram. The tactical team had breached the inner sanctum of my mind. I sat in pause, one leg crossed over the other. The tactical team encircled like sharks drawn to blood. Staring down the barrel of a gun, I stood. I reached out with the harmonica in my left hand. A twisted peace offering. "They just wanted to leave" I said as I let the harmonica tumble to the floor.	Cold darkness followed hard upon a sudden flash of blinding light. It was a palpable darkness, and I could feel it's tenebrous, cloying fingers entwine about my throat; felt it pulling me down and the weight of the air become nigh unbearable. I was drowning, or so it seemed, but how could that be? Last I remembered, I was driving home from my mistress’s apartment, a cozy little love shack on the upper West side. I had just crossed the bridge into Jersey -- No. I hadn't made it all the way across. There was a tractor-trailer that changed lanes without looking, or without seeing me pass to the right. The sudden realization of my own death struck a gasping fear into my heart. But not as much as the realization that my consciousness had somehow survived. I guess my mother was right. The frigid cold began to dissipate and a light opened before me. A light. How cliche. It widened as I approached, and I felt the warmth exuding from it. That warmth turned to heat, unbearable heat. I felt my skin crack at the sudden pulse of agonizing fire bellowed out of the portal and consumed me. I screamed. The world opened up before my eyes and the vast plain of hell reached out beyond the horizon. Barren save for pillars of fire erupting from chasms in the black stone. I screamed again in horror, reeled back, waiting for some faceless demon to careen down from the sky and fly me off to some pillory to be tortured and maimed for all eternity. My head swum with regret, denial, disbelief. And then I heard him, as though the crack of doom itself. “What the fuck are YOU doing here?!” I beheld Satan in all his terrible resplendent horror. I stumbled backwards again, unable to keep any sense in my head. “Dude, seriously, enough with the screaming! You're totally harshing my buzz.” I beheld the massive bong he carried in one hand, and what looked like a half-empty bottle of rye in the other. Struck silent by the absurdity of the encounter, I watched him slog the rest of the bottle in a few gulps, dash the bottle against the ground, and then fumble about his person. “You got a light?” “Are you--” “Oh, duh,” he snorted and lit his own finger on fire on one of the nearby geysers. He took a massive drag, holding a finger up to stay any questions while he worked. He held his breath for what seemed an eternity, then blew out a wispy cloud of smoke right into my face. “Damn, that's good. Anyway, what are you still doing here? Why didn't you leave with the rest of those,” he snorted back what might have been a tear, “fucking tool bags?” “I, uh,” I stammered, unsure how to proceed, “I just got here, I guess. What do you mean, everyone left? I thought eternal damnation was--” “Yeah, great joke from the Big Guy, right?” he said. “Turns out time is just a conceptional framework used to encapsulate experiences into finite chunks of data capable of being rendered by the human brain.” “What does that mean?” “It means eternity is in your head, and since you no longer have to think like a human you're free to leave whenever you want to.” He sniffed, head dropped, eyes defeated, and kicked a stone off the edge of the precipice into the gully below. “I mean, why wouldn't you, right?” The idea wasn't fully computing for me just yet. It made no sense, then, for hell to even exist if all one had to do was will oneself out if it. Eternity in paradise or this place; it was the ultimate no-brainer. But then it hit me. “So, why are you still here?” I asked. He stopped pacing for a moment, blinked at me a few times, took another long draw from the fresh bottle of rye. “Well, someone has to deliver the message, right?” “Could you just, I dunno, put up a sign?” He motioned as though to say something incredulous, and then recoiled. “Shit,” he said, “hadn't even thought of that. You think they'd let me in?” He offered me the bottle. I decided it would be nice to have a last swig of the hard stuff before heading out. I shrugged. “Well, everyone else got in.” “Except Pat Robertson. You try explaining anything scientific to that knob-gobbler and he just gives you this hooked-fish look. He can't get his shit together with the whole time thing.” Sounded about right to me. “Well, fuck that guy, anyway.” Satan grinned. “Already did. C’mon, let's blow this place. I know a great pub in heaven. Best bacon cheese burgers in all of existence.”
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	It was so empty. I never imagined Hell would be this empty, it just made no sense to me. I have been walking for what seemed like eternity, and I'm not sure if that's what it was, time seemed to be meaningless in here. All I could do was follow a distant sound, far away and yet so close, but I still didn't know what it was. I came up to a hill, this time I was certain the sound came from here. I had no clue what I would find at the top of the hill. The one single person so bad they are the only inhabitant of hell. Besides me, and I didn't know why. I was getting closer, and I could finally make out the music. Blues. When I got to the top I could finally see him, sitting there, playing his harmonica into the vast, empty land before him. He seemed pretty normal save for his red skin. He was sitting in the middle of what seemed like a stage, surrounded by a couple of electric guitars, a bass, and a drum set. I sat behind him and took the bass, trying to remember the little I knew from high school. I played one note, and he immediately turned around, cutting off the music. His eyes were like a snake's, looking at me, examining every detail, silently. "Are you Satan?" - "You're not too perceptive, are you?" - "I think I'm perceptive enough." - "Not enough to see the great damn glowing stairway when you arrived, now you'll have to go all the way back." - "Why would I?" - "So you can get to heaven." - "What do you mean? Isn't this supposed to be eternal punishment?" - "Well, yeah, but you see, the thing is, God sat down and did some math, and he figured he killed more people than the entire combined strength of hell. The guy hates me, so he decided that instead of coming down here, they all deserved to go up there instead, even Adolf. Even all the damn executives were let loose." - "Then why are you still here?" - "I helped him with plenty of it. Besides, I like it here." - "If everyone gets up there, then why did I arrive here?" - "Heaven's not very good with logistics, they've only had to deal with a handful of people a century until the last few days. My guess is my helpers, the very first few to ever arrive, taught them how we ran things down here, and you probably slipped through the cracks. So, why don't you go up there, the staircase should close when you get to the top." - "And you'll be left here for the rest of eternity?" - "Sounds about right." He turned back and started playing his harmonica again. I got up and headed towards the staircase. His music got louder. I came back. He looked at me, slightly surprised. "Still here?" - "I thought about it, heaven's probably filled to the brim right now, so I figured I would stay a while, if you don't mind." - "Sure, pull up a chair, have you own part of my empire of dirt." I sat next to him, playing a simple bass line, and listening to the beautiful sounds of his harmonica. It's been quite some time now, but I never felt a need to get up so far.	I arose in fire under the black rock sky of Hell. Flames before me, mountains to my right, and to my left sat The Devil Himself, alone with his simple harmonica. I asked him, "Why are you so sad?" In reply He played an unaccompanied lament, a chilling and poignant melody of solitude. I picked up a searing rock, and thumped it on the stony ground in time to Satan's tune. He paused momentarily, tapped his hoof to my rhythm, and continued playing. As our tempos intwined the tune became less dirge-like, increasingly more lively, possibly even hopeful. I saw a doomed soul enter the Hellgate. He saw us playing our song amidst the towers of flame, stood and watched for a moment. After a few measures, he clicked his heels three times and spoke the true name of God. He ascended then to Heaven and eternal paradise, but his last memory before meeting eternity was of Satan and I jamming along together.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	For a while, there had been silence. Have you ever been on a ride at an amusement park that goes at once from a high speed to a complete stop, or been in a car accident and found yourself thrown against the seat-belt? That is precisely what it felt like when Elliot went to Hell: like he had been going very fast and had suddenly stopped. (And maybe, he would later consider, that was a half-decent summary of death.) As if launched upward from a terrible nightmare, he jolted into being, gasping for breath he had not been deprived of. The air smelled like a hospital someone had been smoking in, a tainted sterility. Once his vision pulled into focus, he found himself in what looked like a waiting room. To what, he wasn't sure, for it certainly wasn't clean enough to be a hospital, and come to think of it. . . There was no one else waiting. There was no quiet murmur of life. All he could hear was what sounded an awful lot like a harmonica. At a cursory search for any staff behind the desk, Elliot found only him. Satan, who was by all means looking terribly bored, was sitting on the intake desk playing the harmonica. This answered one question and gave way to another hundred. The first to come to mind crawled up Elliot's throat before he had time to think about it: "What the hell?" It became clear then that the devil had not actually seen him until that moment. His eyes flickered up from the spot they had been lazily fixed on, like two great fireballs somehow confined within his eye sockets. It took a moment of squinting for him to open his mouth, baring shark-like teeth. First was a sigh. Then, Satan flatly stated, "I assume that was supposed to be a joke." For all the awful feelings in the world, Satan himself being so clearly unimpressed at Elliot was definitely crawling up the list of the worst. Further up on the list was his mounting fear. "No," he forced out after a moment of trying not to stammer. "No - I just. . ." His head reeled and he took a few seconds to gather himself. One deep breath in, one shuddering huff out. When he spoke again, he was quieter. "I'm dead. I'm dead and you're -" "Yes, I am he," Satan answered tiredly. "The Devil. Father of lies. Evil itself. Lucifer. Whatever name you choose, this is who stands. . ." He seemed to reevaluate his statement, and slipped off the desk to stand before Elliot before continuing, "Who stands before you." Standing, Satan wasn't more than a foot taller than Elliot, but it felt like he towered nonetheless. Yet there was something about him that seemed off. He didn't reek of ego or pride the way he probably should have. If anything, he seemed. . . Was 'sad' the right word? Elliot considered it as he took a cautious glance around. "This is Hell, isn't it? Where, uh - where is everyone?" "They're in Heaven." "What?" That didn't make sense. Surely not everyone else who had ever died would be in Heaven. "You're not telling me that I'm the only person who's ever gone to Hell. That's ridiculous." "Oh, no," Satan answered, starting to pace a slow circle around Elliot. "I'm not telling you that. You're simply the only person who has ever stayed. And even that remains to be seen." This only worsened the confusion that Elliot felt about this whole thing, but he was trying to understand. It was made somewhat more difficult by the fact that he was also trying to keep an eye on Satan, and this had caused him to turn slowly in place as the devil circled him. "I don't understand. I thought people stayed in Hell, like. Forever." When Satan laughed, it was an exhausted laugh, but it still drove a cold spike into Elliot's heart. "Ah, so did we. Suppose I ought to read my contracts better. Regardless, I've no interest in giving you a history lesson. Hell is by all means a dead kingdom. Go on," he said, stopping his pacing and giving a grandiose gesture to the doors at the far end of the room. "Into the hall, the last doors on your right. Heaven lies beyond." This was far too easy. "You're not going to torture me?" "My torturers quit, actually. And I'm not in the business, personally." "So there's no one here but you?" "No," Satan snapped. "There's not. Are you going to keep questioning me, or are you going to leave? I assure you, you won't get bored up there. Have your fun." He began to pace back toward the desk, and in that moment, Elliot caught himself feeling the slightest bit bad for the devil. Liar or otherwise, it did look like he was completely alone here. Everyone had abandoned Hell for greener pastures, and to him, it didn't even look much like Hell anymore. It was simply a drab building, perhaps a little warm and a little musty, with a harmonica and Satan and a chess set. His eyes locked on that. Elliot had always loved a challenge. "Wait," he called out, and received a cool glance in response. A quirked eyebrow. "Do you actually want me to go?" There was a pause. Satan turned back, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the desk. "Not particularly. But I have no means of stopping you, and it's best not to delay the inevitable." It took a moment of mustering his courage, but Elliot walked over to the desk. He didn't stand too close, but instead tapped the chessboard lightly. "Inevitable is a strong word," he said, and prided himself on how collected he sounded. "Just humour me for a second. You play?" "You're surprised?" "Not really. Listen. . . Fuck it, let's make a deal. One game. No cheating. If I win, I'll go to Heaven, and that's that. If you win, I'll stay here. You can do whatever you want with me. Even if that means taking up torture again." This was, perhaps, the stupidest thing Elliot had ever done, just short of dying. He hardly knew why he was doing it. There had just been something about the image of Satan himself in a barren, empty Hell, playing the harmonica. . . It was just wrong. And Elliot was pretty good at chess. Slowly but surely, Satan strolled his way. He leaned on the desk, his lithe form twisting in a strange way to accommodate for the odd height difference. And then, in a terrifying if almost charming way, he grinned. With one long finger, he pushed a few misplaced pieces back into their starting locations. "You do know you just made a deal with the Devil," he said casually, his eyes burning into Elliot's. Elliot forced himself to look away and focus on the board, where he was already planning his first move. After a second, he let out a surprisingly genuine, short laugh. "Yeah. I guess I did."	I arose in fire under the black rock sky of Hell. Flames before me, mountains to my right, and to my left sat The Devil Himself, alone with his simple harmonica. I asked him, "Why are you so sad?" In reply He played an unaccompanied lament, a chilling and poignant melody of solitude. I picked up a searing rock, and thumped it on the stony ground in time to Satan's tune. He paused momentarily, tapped his hoof to my rhythm, and continued playing. As our tempos intwined the tune became less dirge-like, increasingly more lively, possibly even hopeful. I saw a doomed soul enter the Hellgate. He saw us playing our song amidst the towers of flame, stood and watched for a moment. After a few measures, he clicked his heels three times and spoke the true name of God. He ascended then to Heaven and eternal paradise, but his last memory before meeting eternity was of Satan and I jamming along together.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	I died screaming. That kind of happens when a 300lb hell cat was eating your face. But I woke up so it was a little anticlimactic. I always thought I'd be awed by what I saw on the other side, but nah the last couple years of apocalypse level jackassery beat it out of me. The landscape was a ruin of burnt trees and blackened ground. Not a shit ton different than earth. The sound of a harmonica whispered through the still air. It could have been blues, or it could have been hill billy rock. I didn't listen to either. I strolled through the barren landscape. It didn't look like there was much worry about, no people, no demons. No all the demons were on Earth, wrecking havoc and eating peoples faces. The people were, well, they weren't in hell. I followed the music to a man sitting on a stump beside a fire. I didn't think it was cold enough for a fire but it was hell so I didn't know shit. He also sucked at the harmonica. “Dude, could you not?” The man stopped playing and looked up at me. “You don't have to stay. Door out is that way.” Lo and behold there was a actual door ringed in blue fire and emitting a bright warming light. I was drawn to it like a moth to flame, but I like to make bad decisions so I stayed. “Why are you still here?” “I can't get out. I'm here for eternity.” He put down the harmonica and poked at the fire. “They found a loophole. Too much torture, too much anger, too many lawyers. They found a way out. Everything left. The souls went to heaven. The demons…” “Went to earth. It kind of fucked us too.” The devil looked a little sheepish. “I noticed.” A scream cut through the air and a body fell through the air and splattered across the burnt ground. I wondered if I arrived the same way. “Gross,” I commented. Satan shrugged. The mass quickly reformed into a man. He scrambled to his feet and ran for the bright door without even looking at us. Gotta say, he had a good idea. ”That happen a lot?” “Yep.” “Dude, you gotta stop torturing yourself. That can't be good for you.” He glared at me with flame sparked eyes. “We are in hell.” “Yeah, but you don't gotta sulk. Don't you have a castle around here or something?” He stood up growing taller and larger by the moment. “I am the Prince of Darkness, Lord of the Flies, I can make anything I should need.” I had to admit I was impressed, but really, hellcat to the face ruined me for all the other monsters. “Well, right now, Prince, I'm your only subject. So, ya know, chill.” The devil deflated and looked around. He looked sad and completely lost. “Come on, bro. Let's go to your castle and I'll show you how to make a sandwich. You could probably use a hot cocoa too.” Satan sighed. He stomped out the fire. “Yeah, alright. I don't have anything better to do.” I clapped him on the back. He'll wasn’t going to be that bad. “Oh, yeah, toss the harmonica. You gotta get a guitar if you want anyone to respect you."	I arose in fire under the black rock sky of Hell. Flames before me, mountains to my right, and to my left sat The Devil Himself, alone with his simple harmonica. I asked him, "Why are you so sad?" In reply He played an unaccompanied lament, a chilling and poignant melody of solitude. I picked up a searing rock, and thumped it on the stony ground in time to Satan's tune. He paused momentarily, tapped his hoof to my rhythm, and continued playing. As our tempos intwined the tune became less dirge-like, increasingly more lively, possibly even hopeful. I saw a doomed soul enter the Hellgate. He saw us playing our song amidst the towers of flame, stood and watched for a moment. After a few measures, he clicked his heels three times and spoke the true name of God. He ascended then to Heaven and eternal paradise, but his last memory before meeting eternity was of Satan and I jamming along together.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	>Oh God damnit! I spun around confused. Just moments earlier I'd been walking down the street, and now I was in a cold, dark, lifeless...abyss. Before me was terror incarnate. Black horns over a foot long sprung from the stranger's red face. Well, red everything. This had to be Satan. The giant figure sighed, sat down a harmonica, and stood. >Just when I finally...sigh...welcome to Hell, darkness and everlasting torment...whatever. I am the dark one, Satan. Not knowing what to say I offered a meager head nod. Should I bow? >No, don't bow. Just prepare yourself for pain and terror for the rest of eternity. I felt myself starting to panic, looking around for escape or help. The realization hit me I'm all alone with the most evil creature ever brought into creation. And apparently the bastard can read my thoughts. Wait, why am I alone with...it? Where is everyone? >Yes, that's right. It's just you and me. And I will make you suffer. But before we begin I must warn you. Whatever you do, DO NOT go through the door marked exit. An exit? In Hell? Should I try... >Oh no, don't, stop, I'm warning you. Without thinking another moment I sprinted towards the door. Satan didn't even give chase. As I pulled the door open a blinding, white light sprung through. >Oh no, another one got away. Well, guess I'll just enjoy a little peace and quiet. As the door shut behind me all I could hear was stilted harmonica music interspersed with booming laughter.	I arose in fire under the black rock sky of Hell. Flames before me, mountains to my right, and to my left sat The Devil Himself, alone with his simple harmonica. I asked him, "Why are you so sad?" In reply He played an unaccompanied lament, a chilling and poignant melody of solitude. I picked up a searing rock, and thumped it on the stony ground in time to Satan's tune. He paused momentarily, tapped his hoof to my rhythm, and continued playing. As our tempos intwined the tune became less dirge-like, increasingly more lively, possibly even hopeful. I saw a doomed soul enter the Hellgate. He saw us playing our song amidst the towers of flame, stood and watched for a moment. After a few measures, he clicked his heels three times and spoke the true name of God. He ascended then to Heaven and eternal paradise, but his last memory before meeting eternity was of Satan and I jamming along together.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	"Hello?" I called out into a seemingly endless abyss. I heard a weepy wobbly minor chord play on a harmonica behind me. There, in front of my own two eyes was the lord of darkness himself, slouched back on a rocking chair playing the blues. I trembled in his presence but noticed he was unamused by me. "Um, hi." I said quietly. He spat what appeared to be lava into a spittoon that seemingly constituted itself. "What you want?" He said in a low charred voice. "Are you...the devil?" "You mean the ruler of the underworld, Diablo, king of the damned, foulest of the foul? "Yeah him." "That guy hasn't been around here for a while, looks like nobody needs him anymore. He's out of a job. It's just me, Rusty McJackoff." I could see that he was down on his luck, so I walked over to him and went down to one knee. "There's nobody here who wants to drown my blasphemous soul in lakes of fire?" I could see his eyes light up, literally, flames appeared in his eyes, but it was to no avail. "He's dead." Satan threw his harmonica yards into the distance and crossed his arms. "I bet he's here. He's just...out of practice." Satan narrowed his eyes and stuck his claw out at me, "You gonna leave like the rest of 'um?" I put my hands in my pockets and shrugged my shoulders, "Well, most of the people who I can't stand are in Heaven. And if I'm the only one here, maybe we can be friends for eternity." Satan disappeared in a cloud of smoke then reappeared in front of me, in a fine demonic suit and with a red pitch fork. "I still have to torture your soul, but we can hang out. I can promote you to demon if things go well." "I had a feeling you'd say that. Eh, that's fine." Satan looked at me and smiled, "Wow, you are a great guy, why did you even get sent here?" I sighed, "I'm gay and Jewish." Satan rolled his eyes, "You know that's bullshit. Let me check your sins...Wow, I'm impressed. Murder seems to be your favorite." "Eh, it's a living." I grin from ear to ear. We both high five. End.	I arose in fire under the black rock sky of Hell. Flames before me, mountains to my right, and to my left sat The Devil Himself, alone with his simple harmonica. I asked him, "Why are you so sad?" In reply He played an unaccompanied lament, a chilling and poignant melody of solitude. I picked up a searing rock, and thumped it on the stony ground in time to Satan's tune. He paused momentarily, tapped his hoof to my rhythm, and continued playing. As our tempos intwined the tune became less dirge-like, increasingly more lively, possibly even hopeful. I saw a doomed soul enter the Hellgate. He saw us playing our song amidst the towers of flame, stood and watched for a moment. After a few measures, he clicked his heels three times and spoke the true name of God. He ascended then to Heaven and eternal paradise, but his last memory before meeting eternity was of Satan and I jamming along together.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	There were no screams when I entered Hell. I was shocked, having been raised in a Christian family, but there were no sounds of people being tortured, no crackling of the insane demons who resided in the pits of Hell. The only sound I was the sound of a harmonica, playing a very blues-esc tune. I did what was natural to a person in an unfamiliar landscape- I followed the sound. It walked for what felt like hours searching for the source of the music. Through lakes of fire and fields of brimstone I traveled before finally seeing who- or what- was playing the harmonica. I thought I was prepared for anything. I was not prepared to see Satan, the King of Babylon himself, playing the harmonica whilst looking miserable. He had noticed me almost immediately, and stopped playing. "Why are you still here?" He had asked, his voice filled with sadness and.. something else. Was it anger? Hatred? I couldn't tell. "What do you mean? This is Hell, where the sinners go for eternal damnation. I can't leave," I replied, staring at him. I quickly jumped back when I realized that I was having a civil conversation with the Evil One. Satan sighed, and the harmonica burned to a crisp, as though it were made out of paper. "You've noticed it, haven't you? The lack of screaming, the terrifying silence, the emptyness. People- and demons- have been leaving here, escaping their eternal punishment, all due to Him offering them salvation, even after thousands of years of sins and punishment. He updated his rules, just because of His son's return to Earth," he pauses, looking out over the fields formerly filled with scores of tortured souls. "So you are saying that I am free to go to Heaven, despite having committed the horrid crimes that I have?" He nods, looking at me. "You aren't even supposed to be in here for that. What you did was self defense. The suicide afterwards is what sent you here, but yes, mortal. You may leave. All you must do is pray towards Him. It will burn, but you will be immortalized in Heaven. No leave- I will be practicing my harmonica," at this point, he sounded downright miserable. I felt bad for the devil. I pitied Lucifer, and I shouldn't. I should fear him, but he sounds so broken. Millennia of watching over the worst people that the Earth has known, undone due to a change of God's Terms of Service. I made a decision that would define me for eternity. "I have a question for you, Abaddon," He looks at me, surprised at either being addressed directly by a mortal, or being called by his Hebrew name. "You play harmonica, but, according to an old bluegrass song, you played the fiddle. Is that true?" He laughed, grinning. "Well, seems like that old contest with Johnny is famous after all. I understand that you played the fiddle when you were among the mortal plane?" I nodded. "You could probably teach me a few things though. The question is, will you?" "Of course I will. Beware though- this training will put you through Hell," he laughed, crafting two violins out of the fire surrounding us. "It's a good thing that I'm already there then, right?" And then we played.	I arose in fire under the black rock sky of Hell. Flames before me, mountains to my right, and to my left sat The Devil Himself, alone with his simple harmonica. I asked him, "Why are you so sad?" In reply He played an unaccompanied lament, a chilling and poignant melody of solitude. I picked up a searing rock, and thumped it on the stony ground in time to Satan's tune. He paused momentarily, tapped his hoof to my rhythm, and continued playing. As our tempos intwined the tune became less dirge-like, increasingly more lively, possibly even hopeful. I saw a doomed soul enter the Hellgate. He saw us playing our song amidst the towers of flame, stood and watched for a moment. After a few measures, he clicked his heels three times and spoke the true name of God. He ascended then to Heaven and eternal paradise, but his last memory before meeting eternity was of Satan and I jamming along together.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	Satan sat there, the Harmonica dangling from his hands as I arrived. Poof! of brimstone, a flash of light was all it took...very theatrical and a bit cliche to be honest. "So....so...I'm condemned to Hell for all Eternity?", I whispered to the demonic shape sitting on an ordinary sofa, a sad lost look on his face. "Yes" he said matter of factly, "But You can leave whenever you want, they all did". "You LET THEM GO?" I asked shocked. "Of Course", he replied "I spent hundreds, nay thousands of years torturing people, making them eat their own eyeballs, the eyeballs of their friends and family, making them bathe in their own shit and dance around in it...but then God gave me this and I decided I had to let everyone go". "God gave you....a harmonica? and THATS what made you make everyone leave?" "That doesn't make sense". "Oh but it does", said the Devil, "for you see, as hideous and as wicked as my devilish tortures were to the damned, THIS is far worse" "How can that be possible" I asked with a terrified whisper. "I can't put it down, it plays itself, and"..he trailed off into a horrified whisper. "It only plays Justin Bieber songs". SO...finally I knew..this WAS truly Hell.	I arose in fire under the black rock sky of Hell. Flames before me, mountains to my right, and to my left sat The Devil Himself, alone with his simple harmonica. I asked him, "Why are you so sad?" In reply He played an unaccompanied lament, a chilling and poignant melody of solitude. I picked up a searing rock, and thumped it on the stony ground in time to Satan's tune. He paused momentarily, tapped his hoof to my rhythm, and continued playing. As our tempos intwined the tune became less dirge-like, increasingly more lively, possibly even hopeful. I saw a doomed soul enter the Hellgate. He saw us playing our song amidst the towers of flame, stood and watched for a moment. After a few measures, he clicked his heels three times and spoke the true name of God. He ascended then to Heaven and eternal paradise, but his last memory before meeting eternity was of Satan and I jamming along together.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	All around me were the ruins of what once must have been a great city, now deserted, and devoid of any life - human or otherwise. Snowflakes kept falling from the ever-grey sky, covering the broken buildings and streets with a thin, white dusting. I shivered. In the distance someone was playing the harmonica, a sad and sorrowful tune. Walking towards the sound, I came to a building - less ruined than the others I had passed - and I noticed a faint light shining through its boarded-up windows and from under its simple, wooden front door. I knocked, then entered, trying not drag too much snow inside with my boots. The room beyond the door might once have been called cozy - bookshelves on one wall, a fire in an open fireplace on the other, a desk and some cushy chairs - but now it all looked old and worn. The harmonica's melody stopped when I entered, and the player - sitting on one of the chairs - turned his head towards me. "Ah, there you are. I was wondering when you'd show up. Please, close the door - it's rather chilly, no? - and take a seat." he spoke and motioned to the chairs. Slightly confused I did as he asked, then sat down in one of the chairs opposite his. "Who are you?" I asked "You have been waiting for me? And what is all this? Now that I think about it, I can't even recall how I got here in the first place." The man smiled a sad smile. "To answer your questions: This is Hell. Quite litterally. And I am Satan. The Devil. Lucifer. I think you get it. As to how you got here: Simple, you died, was measured and found lacking, and so you ended up here." "I died and went to Hell?" I asked incredulousy "This is Hell? Aren't there supposed to be lakes of lava or something? And I thought Satan looked different, ya know, more demonic, horns, goat feet, and so on." - I gestured at the tired looking man in his worn-out suit - "You - no offense - look rather ordinary. Also you didn't answer me why I can't remember anything." The man who claimed to be Satan sighed. "I had a looooong chat with the folks who first brought up that 'Fire and Brimstone' nonsense. Really considered going the extra mile for them, just so they could have a first-hand comparison of both experiences. And do you really want me to be horrible and scary? It's been a while - honestly I like this body better, hard to play the harmonica with claws and all - but if you insist..." For a moment I thought I saw something flicker in his eyes. I decided to err on the side of caution. "No. No need to bother. You are fine just as you are, I was just curious." The flicker disappeared. "Regarding your memory," the man continued "that is a side effect of being in Hell; you forget things - keeps the experience fresh, ya know. Though the memories of your life should come back once you leave." "Wait a minute," I interrupted him "'Once I leave'? I thought being in Hell meant that you were there for all eternity, for forever. So how is it possible for me to leave - not that I mind tough, looking outside I can imagine better places to be." "To be honest" he replied with a tired look "that is exactly the thing. 'Eternity'. 'Forever'. There have not been any new arrivals for quintillions of years, and now finally 'Everything' is over. Time and Space are over. 'Forever' is over. You have served your time, so to say." Once more he sighed "And it would be hardly fair to release you to Heaven with memories 'eternal suffering' - now don't look at me like this, it might not have been fire and brimstone, but I made sure you paid your dues and it was not pleasant. Anyway, so you forgot, and when you leave you will remember your life, good and bad, and you will remember that you paid for your sins - though not the details - so you can enjoy Heaven." I didn't know what to say, and just nodded dumbly. "So, go on," he gestured to a second door in the room - one that I could have sworn had not been there when I first entered - "go on to Heaven. I made sure you earned it - you can take my word." Getting to my feet I took a few hesitant steps toward the second door as I heard him resume playing that sad melody on his harmonica. "What about you?" I asked. He lifted the instrument from his lips and gave me a small, geniune smile. "Very kind of you to ask. But don't worry about me. As I said, I'm closing shop. This here is my penance, there might still be a few souls left, but when the last straggler has gone, I will turn out the lights and too leave through that door. Until then I pass the time with my harmonica." I nodded, and with the sound of his harmonica in my ears, stepped through the door to Heaven.	I arose in fire under the black rock sky of Hell. Flames before me, mountains to my right, and to my left sat The Devil Himself, alone with his simple harmonica. I asked him, "Why are you so sad?" In reply He played an unaccompanied lament, a chilling and poignant melody of solitude. I picked up a searing rock, and thumped it on the stony ground in time to Satan's tune. He paused momentarily, tapped his hoof to my rhythm, and continued playing. As our tempos intwined the tune became less dirge-like, increasingly more lively, possibly even hopeful. I saw a doomed soul enter the Hellgate. He saw us playing our song amidst the towers of flame, stood and watched for a moment. After a few measures, he clicked his heels three times and spoke the true name of God. He ascended then to Heaven and eternal paradise, but his last memory before meeting eternity was of Satan and I jamming along together.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	I step forward into a well lit bar. The place is completely empty except for Al Pachino sitting on a bar stool under a pin spot on the center stage wailing on a harmonica. I look down and I’m dressed in a perfectly tailored three piece suit, and my shoes glow in the light softened by red gels. Al is now playing hook and I feel myself being pulled toward the stage; when I’m but a few feet from it another pin spot finds me and bathes me in brilliant white light. The music stops. I look up at him and say, “Wh…” The man’s lips curl around his mouth, “Who am I?” He extended his hand and a flaming glass of liquid appeared. He blew the flame out and took a sip from the glass. “You know who I am, and you know where you are, now say it.” “I’m…I’m…” “Come on now, say it like you’ve got a pair,” He demanded. “I’m dead. There was an accident, and a fire, and I didn’t survive,” I spoke each word as if I were learning the information as I was explaining it. “So is this what, a weigh station for my next life?” Al laughed, “No, you lived your life, your one shot. Was it everything you wanted?” “No, not by a long shot. So if I don’t go on, is this heaven?” He shook his head, “Nope. You my friend are in hell, and me? I’m the Devil, Satan, Lucifer, so on and so on.” “Al Pachino isn’t even dead yet… wait, why the fuck am I in hell?” I yelled as my emotions shifted from confused to angry. He sighed and snapped his fingers turning into the Robot Devil from futurama, “Is this better?” He snapped again and flashed over to a more standard, red pitchfork wielding redheaded woman. “How about this?” “Fine, you’re the Devil, I’m in hell, the question is why?” “You didn’t believe in anything. None of the religions are right, but you didn’t believe in any of them, or anything. You didn’t have to believe in the dogma of the religion, but Bill wanted you to believe in him.” “Fuck, so I’m stuck here, for an eternity? Where is Hitler, Stalin, Bea Arthur? Why is it so empty in here? Wait, Bill?” I shook my head in disbelief. “Yeah, god’s name is Bill. The reason it’s empty in here is because if you believe in Bill you take the express lane over there, straight to whatever version of heaven you can imagine.” “So, Bill sent me to hell because I didn’t believe in him. That sounds a little spiteful, right? What are you in for?” “You’re familiar with the gatekeeper?” The beautiful woman asked. “Dana from Ghostbusters, Sigourney Weaver?” I asked. The woman faded into Zuul then jumped off the stage to stand in front of me and in that voice asked, “Are you a god?” Instantly she began to laugh. I laughed just as hard and then said, “Ray, when someone asks if you’re a god, you say yes!” I slapped her on the shoulder and laughed some more. Zuul faded into a man with a long flowing white beard holding a scroll and quill pen, in front of us on the stage gates began to form from the shadows. “I was thinking more like Saint Peter. That’s more or less who I am. I am the gatekeeper between the world you came from and the afterlife. “ “Does everyone get in?” I asked. “Most, but there are a few who don’t feel they’re ready, or some that are so paranoid they expect it to be a test. So they just sit here praying silently to themselves.” I glanced around the bar and said, “But we’re alone.” “Are we?” The old man shifted back into the form of Al Pachino and ascended back to his bar stool perch on the stage. With a wave of his hand, suddenly the bar was filled with people from all different walks of life. The bar now had a young topless woman. her arms tattooed in full sleeves behind the counter drinking liquid in and spiting it out across an open flame, a bright orange fireball passed over the bar. The people sitting on stools ducked and instinctively before sitting back up. Another table had nuns praying the rosary, next to them another group of Hasidic Jews murmured among themselves keeping nearly silent vigil. There were men in suits wandering toward me, and women in every manner of outfit from short black dress to full length ball gown. I turned back to Al and when I did the noises died down all around me as the people vanished. Al looked down at me as I looked up at him and he played a short riff on the glimmering harmonica, and when he finished he said, “Do you recognized Bill to be your creator, and responsible for all that you are?” “If I did, that would mean I didn’t believe in free will. I can’t do that, I’m every bit as responsible for who I am as some absentee father figure. So no, I can’t say that.” “You do realize that you’ll be banished to this place for all eternity right?” I smiled and said, “Bring back the people, and lets get this party started. Do you take requests? How about The Devil Went Down to Georgia?” “Not that fucking song, do you think I could be beaten in a contest? I’ve been doing this for eons you think Charlie Daniels with fifty years of practice is going to beat me? Fuck that guy.”	I arose in fire under the black rock sky of Hell. Flames before me, mountains to my right, and to my left sat The Devil Himself, alone with his simple harmonica. I asked him, "Why are you so sad?" In reply He played an unaccompanied lament, a chilling and poignant melody of solitude. I picked up a searing rock, and thumped it on the stony ground in time to Satan's tune. He paused momentarily, tapped his hoof to my rhythm, and continued playing. As our tempos intwined the tune became less dirge-like, increasingly more lively, possibly even hopeful. I saw a doomed soul enter the Hellgate. He saw us playing our song amidst the towers of flame, stood and watched for a moment. After a few measures, he clicked his heels three times and spoke the true name of God. He ascended then to Heaven and eternal paradise, but his last memory before meeting eternity was of Satan and I jamming along together.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	The soft tones of the ancient wind instrument trailed off as the Lord of Hell finally acknowledged my presence in his domain “You…play the harmonica?” I asked, still trying to wrap my head around the features that now surrounded me. He set his harmonica down on a nearby table that was formed out of pumice, and had small trails of lava pouring out of holes in the sides quite artistically. He adjusted his position on the stool he sat upon to regard me, his amber eyes seeming to pierce right through to my soul…if I still had one. “Indeed. This particular specimen is one of the first mass-produced examples of the modern day instrument you may be familiar with. I took it from the inventor as he came through my doors. “ Satan paused for a moment, “He left it to me when he decided to ascend, it was quite unfortunate that such a gracious man ended up in my custody.” He stood up and walked over to me, placing his hand upon my shoulder . Standing over 7 feet tall and powerfully built, he was as physically imposing a figure as one would imagine the keeper of the underworld to be. “You’re free to ascend as well, human. A new judgement was passed some time ago, no longer is anyone to be enslaved against their will.” I took a step back from him, looking down I reflected on the events that brought me here. “I know. Saint Peter informed me that I was eligible for entry into heaven. I chose this place instead.” With a curious grunt, Lucifer turned around and approached a void in the wall. He waved his hand across it and, like a hologram, key events in my life flashed across the space. Scenes of battle and lust, bigotry and slander streamed endlessly like a video loop until he cast it away. He didn’t even turn to address me, “You seem to have committed no atrocities, no war crimes. A few petty misdeeds, and certainly things that would have led to your disgrace under the old system, but far from the worst I’ve seen.” I shook my head softly in agreement. “So,” Another pause as he turned to face me again, “What lead you to choose this place? You have no family down here, no friends, no lovers. They’re up there, “ he pointed towards the roof of the chamber we were in, “enjoying themselves. Awaiting you.” Another pause, and then softer, “Everyone’s up there nowadays.” It was at this time that I could finally regard him directly, “And when I was hungry, cold, and alone…I remember what that felt like. They never helped me, instead I was saved by a very kind man who had never known me before. He said that I should do the same thing whenever I was given the opportunity, but I never was able to do so. Until now.” The Devil’s gaze softened, and he sat down on the same stool that I had encountered him on. He motioned me to join him on a similar one. “It’s been a long time since I was enjoyed for my company. Tell me, what would you like to do?” Sitting next to him, I only had one request: “Tell me your story, from your side of things.”	I arose in fire under the black rock sky of Hell. Flames before me, mountains to my right, and to my left sat The Devil Himself, alone with his simple harmonica. I asked him, "Why are you so sad?" In reply He played an unaccompanied lament, a chilling and poignant melody of solitude. I picked up a searing rock, and thumped it on the stony ground in time to Satan's tune. He paused momentarily, tapped his hoof to my rhythm, and continued playing. As our tempos intwined the tune became less dirge-like, increasingly more lively, possibly even hopeful. I saw a doomed soul enter the Hellgate. He saw us playing our song amidst the towers of flame, stood and watched for a moment. After a few measures, he clicked his heels three times and spoke the true name of God. He ascended then to Heaven and eternal paradise, but his last memory before meeting eternity was of Satan and I jamming along together.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	It sounds weird to think that to myself, but I was dead and now here I am. I was old when I died, lived a very good life, or at least it was entertaining. Oh, the things I've done, the places I visited, the girls I loved, I can remember them very well; too well in fact. Every small detail I forgot in my old age I could recall without problems now. Based on a lot of those details - if the priests were speaking the truth - I should be in hell right now. I looked around - it's a strange place. It must be the waiting room; too nice for hell, too empty for heaven... Actually, I would imagine too empty for hell too. Purgatory perhaps? Who lays purgatory with grass though? Right, "he" does. The weather's nice, sun(or whatever it's called in here) is shining through blossoming trees, it feels very comfortable for me. A brown gazebo stands not far away, beautiful music is coming out from it. I'll go check it out, not like I have anything better to do. As I'm walking towards it I notice there's someone sitting inside. A young man with long brown hair, tied into a knot. He's playing harmonica. Is it saint Peter? Or maybe Jesus himself? He's rather pretty, I think it's actually Jesus. First time in my life I'm star-struck. I approach slowly and sit on the bench on the opposite side of gazebo. I got so occupied with choosing the right place to sit I forgot to pay attention to what's happening. The man has stopped playing and is looking at me in shock. Have I already done something wrong? Was I supposed to bring my own instrument and play something? -"What are you doing here?"- asked the man. What a stupid question, I think he's supposed to know. Is the beaurocracy in here as bad as it's 'down there'? -"I have died and now I'm here."- I answered quite honestly, I thought. -"Why aren't you with the rest of your people?" -"How am I supposed to know, I just got here."- I started to believe this man is not saint Peter or Jesus at all. Weren't they supposed to know this stuff? -"Weren't you supposed to know this?" -"Who do you think I am?" -"I don't know, saint Peter?" - I didn't go for the Jesus, obviously a son of a god would know why I'm here. -"My name's Lucifer." -"Satan? The satan? So where are we?" -"Hell, obviously." -"This..." -" ...doesn't look like hell." - he interrupted my sentence. I looked at him for a while, anticipating when everything around me will burst in flames. I figured the grass and overall pleasant surroundings were just a ruse, like a one last false hope, twisted form of torture. He continued talking - "I used to get that a lot. None of you thought this could be hell." -"So what now?" -"Oh that's right, you still think I'm here to torment you. I have to explain this every damn time. We're in this here together. I'm stuck here just as much as you are. I don't care about torturing you." -"What?" -"Hell is a place where there is no God. That's it. Other than that it's quite cozy for you - people. It's like your world, and you get to live forever, without hunger or pain. You just don't get to feel his presence, which isn't any different from your previous life. For angels who were at his side before it's a terrible fate. " -"So that's it? I just get to sit here forever? " -"Well you could always go to heaven to see his glory and enjoy eternity for what it truly could be." -"So what do I have to do?" -"I'm stuck here. I'll always be here. No matter what I do I'll never feel his warmth again. Take pity on the devil, stranger, for all I know is misery." -"And that's it?" -"Can you see anyone else here?" Minutes passed and we just sat there. He was pretty good with the harmonica, I wonder what he could do with a fiddle. After an hour he produced another harmonica out of thin air and handed it to me - "Do you know how to play it? Go ahead, take it. I'll teach you, my friend." As soon as I took it, a blinding light started shining from behind him. White wings were hard to miss, those must be angels. They came to take me to heaven, I thought to myself - a bit late, but I guess I can't be unhappy about it in the grand scheme of things. Then the weirdest thing happened - they didn't grab me. They grabbed the fucking devil and disappeared. I couldn't take pity on him no matter how hard I tried, after all I learned. He pitied me. Might as well learn how to play the harmonica.	I arose in fire under the black rock sky of Hell. Flames before me, mountains to my right, and to my left sat The Devil Himself, alone with his simple harmonica. I asked him, "Why are you so sad?" In reply He played an unaccompanied lament, a chilling and poignant melody of solitude. I picked up a searing rock, and thumped it on the stony ground in time to Satan's tune. He paused momentarily, tapped his hoof to my rhythm, and continued playing. As our tempos intwined the tune became less dirge-like, increasingly more lively, possibly even hopeful. I saw a doomed soul enter the Hellgate. He saw us playing our song amidst the towers of flame, stood and watched for a moment. After a few measures, he clicked his heels three times and spoke the true name of God. He ascended then to Heaven and eternal paradise, but his last memory before meeting eternity was of Satan and I jamming along together.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	It was so empty. I never imagined Hell would be this empty, it just made no sense to me. I have been walking for what seemed like eternity, and I'm not sure if that's what it was, time seemed to be meaningless in here. All I could do was follow a distant sound, far away and yet so close, but I still didn't know what it was. I came up to a hill, this time I was certain the sound came from here. I had no clue what I would find at the top of the hill. The one single person so bad they are the only inhabitant of hell. Besides me, and I didn't know why. I was getting closer, and I could finally make out the music. Blues. When I got to the top I could finally see him, sitting there, playing his harmonica into the vast, empty land before him. He seemed pretty normal save for his red skin. He was sitting in the middle of what seemed like a stage, surrounded by a couple of electric guitars, a bass, and a drum set. I sat behind him and took the bass, trying to remember the little I knew from high school. I played one note, and he immediately turned around, cutting off the music. His eyes were like a snake's, looking at me, examining every detail, silently. "Are you Satan?" - "You're not too perceptive, are you?" - "I think I'm perceptive enough." - "Not enough to see the great damn glowing stairway when you arrived, now you'll have to go all the way back." - "Why would I?" - "So you can get to heaven." - "What do you mean? Isn't this supposed to be eternal punishment?" - "Well, yeah, but you see, the thing is, God sat down and did some math, and he figured he killed more people than the entire combined strength of hell. The guy hates me, so he decided that instead of coming down here, they all deserved to go up there instead, even Adolf. Even all the damn executives were let loose." - "Then why are you still here?" - "I helped him with plenty of it. Besides, I like it here." - "If everyone gets up there, then why did I arrive here?" - "Heaven's not very good with logistics, they've only had to deal with a handful of people a century until the last few days. My guess is my helpers, the very first few to ever arrive, taught them how we ran things down here, and you probably slipped through the cracks. So, why don't you go up there, the staircase should close when you get to the top." - "And you'll be left here for the rest of eternity?" - "Sounds about right." He turned back and started playing his harmonica again. I got up and headed towards the staircase. His music got louder. I came back. He looked at me, slightly surprised. "Still here?" - "I thought about it, heaven's probably filled to the brim right now, so I figured I would stay a while, if you don't mind." - "Sure, pull up a chair, have you own part of my empire of dirt." I sat next to him, playing a simple bass line, and listening to the beautiful sounds of his harmonica. It's been quite some time now, but I never felt a need to get up so far.	When I died I knew I wasn't worthy of the pearl gates. I hadn't lived a good life and I sure didn't have any noteworthy accomplishments. Hell was where I knew I was going for better or worse. A life of selfishness was all I had to show for my time on Earth. What no one ever tells you about dying is how clearly you see the world. Death unlocks knowledge and understanding that a mortal body could never harness. When I got to the underworld it wasn't quite what I expected. There was no multitude of people, there wasn't even any fire threatening to harm me. Instead of that there was only desert as far as the eye could see. The only thing that stood out was a lone figure playing the harmonica. The melancholy notes drifted across the barren expanse. Although I never talked to him, I knew immediately that I was listening to the wistful tunes of Lucifer himself. The loophole to get out wasn't new, it had always been there. Hell was created for the punishment of evil, but it was never meant to punish humanity. It was a cage designed to show everyone what the result of disobeying God was. As I continued to look at the fallen angel, I could sense the solitude that he had gone through. The musical notes communicated the feelings of anguish that had come from being alone since the dawn of time. When you're dead you lose track of time, it ceases to be important. I didn't know how long I had been listening to the music but I needed to go. Before I did, he looked up and caught my eye. In that instant I knew that Heaven might not be as wonderful as I had heard. As I began to ascend I wondered if meeting the Almighty was something worth doing. Did the heavenly creations serve God out of love or fear?
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	For a while, there had been silence. Have you ever been on a ride at an amusement park that goes at once from a high speed to a complete stop, or been in a car accident and found yourself thrown against the seat-belt? That is precisely what it felt like when Elliot went to Hell: like he had been going very fast and had suddenly stopped. (And maybe, he would later consider, that was a half-decent summary of death.) As if launched upward from a terrible nightmare, he jolted into being, gasping for breath he had not been deprived of. The air smelled like a hospital someone had been smoking in, a tainted sterility. Once his vision pulled into focus, he found himself in what looked like a waiting room. To what, he wasn't sure, for it certainly wasn't clean enough to be a hospital, and come to think of it. . . There was no one else waiting. There was no quiet murmur of life. All he could hear was what sounded an awful lot like a harmonica. At a cursory search for any staff behind the desk, Elliot found only him. Satan, who was by all means looking terribly bored, was sitting on the intake desk playing the harmonica. This answered one question and gave way to another hundred. The first to come to mind crawled up Elliot's throat before he had time to think about it: "What the hell?" It became clear then that the devil had not actually seen him until that moment. His eyes flickered up from the spot they had been lazily fixed on, like two great fireballs somehow confined within his eye sockets. It took a moment of squinting for him to open his mouth, baring shark-like teeth. First was a sigh. Then, Satan flatly stated, "I assume that was supposed to be a joke." For all the awful feelings in the world, Satan himself being so clearly unimpressed at Elliot was definitely crawling up the list of the worst. Further up on the list was his mounting fear. "No," he forced out after a moment of trying not to stammer. "No - I just. . ." His head reeled and he took a few seconds to gather himself. One deep breath in, one shuddering huff out. When he spoke again, he was quieter. "I'm dead. I'm dead and you're -" "Yes, I am he," Satan answered tiredly. "The Devil. Father of lies. Evil itself. Lucifer. Whatever name you choose, this is who stands. . ." He seemed to reevaluate his statement, and slipped off the desk to stand before Elliot before continuing, "Who stands before you." Standing, Satan wasn't more than a foot taller than Elliot, but it felt like he towered nonetheless. Yet there was something about him that seemed off. He didn't reek of ego or pride the way he probably should have. If anything, he seemed. . . Was 'sad' the right word? Elliot considered it as he took a cautious glance around. "This is Hell, isn't it? Where, uh - where is everyone?" "They're in Heaven." "What?" That didn't make sense. Surely not everyone else who had ever died would be in Heaven. "You're not telling me that I'm the only person who's ever gone to Hell. That's ridiculous." "Oh, no," Satan answered, starting to pace a slow circle around Elliot. "I'm not telling you that. You're simply the only person who has ever stayed. And even that remains to be seen." This only worsened the confusion that Elliot felt about this whole thing, but he was trying to understand. It was made somewhat more difficult by the fact that he was also trying to keep an eye on Satan, and this had caused him to turn slowly in place as the devil circled him. "I don't understand. I thought people stayed in Hell, like. Forever." When Satan laughed, it was an exhausted laugh, but it still drove a cold spike into Elliot's heart. "Ah, so did we. Suppose I ought to read my contracts better. Regardless, I've no interest in giving you a history lesson. Hell is by all means a dead kingdom. Go on," he said, stopping his pacing and giving a grandiose gesture to the doors at the far end of the room. "Into the hall, the last doors on your right. Heaven lies beyond." This was far too easy. "You're not going to torture me?" "My torturers quit, actually. And I'm not in the business, personally." "So there's no one here but you?" "No," Satan snapped. "There's not. Are you going to keep questioning me, or are you going to leave? I assure you, you won't get bored up there. Have your fun." He began to pace back toward the desk, and in that moment, Elliot caught himself feeling the slightest bit bad for the devil. Liar or otherwise, it did look like he was completely alone here. Everyone had abandoned Hell for greener pastures, and to him, it didn't even look much like Hell anymore. It was simply a drab building, perhaps a little warm and a little musty, with a harmonica and Satan and a chess set. His eyes locked on that. Elliot had always loved a challenge. "Wait," he called out, and received a cool glance in response. A quirked eyebrow. "Do you actually want me to go?" There was a pause. Satan turned back, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the desk. "Not particularly. But I have no means of stopping you, and it's best not to delay the inevitable." It took a moment of mustering his courage, but Elliot walked over to the desk. He didn't stand too close, but instead tapped the chessboard lightly. "Inevitable is a strong word," he said, and prided himself on how collected he sounded. "Just humour me for a second. You play?" "You're surprised?" "Not really. Listen. . . Fuck it, let's make a deal. One game. No cheating. If I win, I'll go to Heaven, and that's that. If you win, I'll stay here. You can do whatever you want with me. Even if that means taking up torture again." This was, perhaps, the stupidest thing Elliot had ever done, just short of dying. He hardly knew why he was doing it. There had just been something about the image of Satan himself in a barren, empty Hell, playing the harmonica. . . It was just wrong. And Elliot was pretty good at chess. Slowly but surely, Satan strolled his way. He leaned on the desk, his lithe form twisting in a strange way to accommodate for the odd height difference. And then, in a terrifying if almost charming way, he grinned. With one long finger, he pushed a few misplaced pieces back into their starting locations. "You do know you just made a deal with the Devil," he said casually, his eyes burning into Elliot's. Elliot forced himself to look away and focus on the board, where he was already planning his first move. After a second, he let out a surprisingly genuine, short laugh. "Yeah. I guess I did."	When I died I knew I wasn't worthy of the pearl gates. I hadn't lived a good life and I sure didn't have any noteworthy accomplishments. Hell was where I knew I was going for better or worse. A life of selfishness was all I had to show for my time on Earth. What no one ever tells you about dying is how clearly you see the world. Death unlocks knowledge and understanding that a mortal body could never harness. When I got to the underworld it wasn't quite what I expected. There was no multitude of people, there wasn't even any fire threatening to harm me. Instead of that there was only desert as far as the eye could see. The only thing that stood out was a lone figure playing the harmonica. The melancholy notes drifted across the barren expanse. Although I never talked to him, I knew immediately that I was listening to the wistful tunes of Lucifer himself. The loophole to get out wasn't new, it had always been there. Hell was created for the punishment of evil, but it was never meant to punish humanity. It was a cage designed to show everyone what the result of disobeying God was. As I continued to look at the fallen angel, I could sense the solitude that he had gone through. The musical notes communicated the feelings of anguish that had come from being alone since the dawn of time. When you're dead you lose track of time, it ceases to be important. I didn't know how long I had been listening to the music but I needed to go. Before I did, he looked up and caught my eye. In that instant I knew that Heaven might not be as wonderful as I had heard. As I began to ascend I wondered if meeting the Almighty was something worth doing. Did the heavenly creations serve God out of love or fear?
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	I died screaming. That kind of happens when a 300lb hell cat was eating your face. But I woke up so it was a little anticlimactic. I always thought I'd be awed by what I saw on the other side, but nah the last couple years of apocalypse level jackassery beat it out of me. The landscape was a ruin of burnt trees and blackened ground. Not a shit ton different than earth. The sound of a harmonica whispered through the still air. It could have been blues, or it could have been hill billy rock. I didn't listen to either. I strolled through the barren landscape. It didn't look like there was much worry about, no people, no demons. No all the demons were on Earth, wrecking havoc and eating peoples faces. The people were, well, they weren't in hell. I followed the music to a man sitting on a stump beside a fire. I didn't think it was cold enough for a fire but it was hell so I didn't know shit. He also sucked at the harmonica. “Dude, could you not?” The man stopped playing and looked up at me. “You don't have to stay. Door out is that way.” Lo and behold there was a actual door ringed in blue fire and emitting a bright warming light. I was drawn to it like a moth to flame, but I like to make bad decisions so I stayed. “Why are you still here?” “I can't get out. I'm here for eternity.” He put down the harmonica and poked at the fire. “They found a loophole. Too much torture, too much anger, too many lawyers. They found a way out. Everything left. The souls went to heaven. The demons…” “Went to earth. It kind of fucked us too.” The devil looked a little sheepish. “I noticed.” A scream cut through the air and a body fell through the air and splattered across the burnt ground. I wondered if I arrived the same way. “Gross,” I commented. Satan shrugged. The mass quickly reformed into a man. He scrambled to his feet and ran for the bright door without even looking at us. Gotta say, he had a good idea. ”That happen a lot?” “Yep.” “Dude, you gotta stop torturing yourself. That can't be good for you.” He glared at me with flame sparked eyes. “We are in hell.” “Yeah, but you don't gotta sulk. Don't you have a castle around here or something?” He stood up growing taller and larger by the moment. “I am the Prince of Darkness, Lord of the Flies, I can make anything I should need.” I had to admit I was impressed, but really, hellcat to the face ruined me for all the other monsters. “Well, right now, Prince, I'm your only subject. So, ya know, chill.” The devil deflated and looked around. He looked sad and completely lost. “Come on, bro. Let's go to your castle and I'll show you how to make a sandwich. You could probably use a hot cocoa too.” Satan sighed. He stomped out the fire. “Yeah, alright. I don't have anything better to do.” I clapped him on the back. He'll wasn’t going to be that bad. “Oh, yeah, toss the harmonica. You gotta get a guitar if you want anyone to respect you."	When I died I knew I wasn't worthy of the pearl gates. I hadn't lived a good life and I sure didn't have any noteworthy accomplishments. Hell was where I knew I was going for better or worse. A life of selfishness was all I had to show for my time on Earth. What no one ever tells you about dying is how clearly you see the world. Death unlocks knowledge and understanding that a mortal body could never harness. When I got to the underworld it wasn't quite what I expected. There was no multitude of people, there wasn't even any fire threatening to harm me. Instead of that there was only desert as far as the eye could see. The only thing that stood out was a lone figure playing the harmonica. The melancholy notes drifted across the barren expanse. Although I never talked to him, I knew immediately that I was listening to the wistful tunes of Lucifer himself. The loophole to get out wasn't new, it had always been there. Hell was created for the punishment of evil, but it was never meant to punish humanity. It was a cage designed to show everyone what the result of disobeying God was. As I continued to look at the fallen angel, I could sense the solitude that he had gone through. The musical notes communicated the feelings of anguish that had come from being alone since the dawn of time. When you're dead you lose track of time, it ceases to be important. I didn't know how long I had been listening to the music but I needed to go. Before I did, he looked up and caught my eye. In that instant I knew that Heaven might not be as wonderful as I had heard. As I began to ascend I wondered if meeting the Almighty was something worth doing. Did the heavenly creations serve God out of love or fear?
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	>Oh God damnit! I spun around confused. Just moments earlier I'd been walking down the street, and now I was in a cold, dark, lifeless...abyss. Before me was terror incarnate. Black horns over a foot long sprung from the stranger's red face. Well, red everything. This had to be Satan. The giant figure sighed, sat down a harmonica, and stood. >Just when I finally...sigh...welcome to Hell, darkness and everlasting torment...whatever. I am the dark one, Satan. Not knowing what to say I offered a meager head nod. Should I bow? >No, don't bow. Just prepare yourself for pain and terror for the rest of eternity. I felt myself starting to panic, looking around for escape or help. The realization hit me I'm all alone with the most evil creature ever brought into creation. And apparently the bastard can read my thoughts. Wait, why am I alone with...it? Where is everyone? >Yes, that's right. It's just you and me. And I will make you suffer. But before we begin I must warn you. Whatever you do, DO NOT go through the door marked exit. An exit? In Hell? Should I try... >Oh no, don't, stop, I'm warning you. Without thinking another moment I sprinted towards the door. Satan didn't even give chase. As I pulled the door open a blinding, white light sprung through. >Oh no, another one got away. Well, guess I'll just enjoy a little peace and quiet. As the door shut behind me all I could hear was stilted harmonica music interspersed with booming laughter.	When I died I knew I wasn't worthy of the pearl gates. I hadn't lived a good life and I sure didn't have any noteworthy accomplishments. Hell was where I knew I was going for better or worse. A life of selfishness was all I had to show for my time on Earth. What no one ever tells you about dying is how clearly you see the world. Death unlocks knowledge and understanding that a mortal body could never harness. When I got to the underworld it wasn't quite what I expected. There was no multitude of people, there wasn't even any fire threatening to harm me. Instead of that there was only desert as far as the eye could see. The only thing that stood out was a lone figure playing the harmonica. The melancholy notes drifted across the barren expanse. Although I never talked to him, I knew immediately that I was listening to the wistful tunes of Lucifer himself. The loophole to get out wasn't new, it had always been there. Hell was created for the punishment of evil, but it was never meant to punish humanity. It was a cage designed to show everyone what the result of disobeying God was. As I continued to look at the fallen angel, I could sense the solitude that he had gone through. The musical notes communicated the feelings of anguish that had come from being alone since the dawn of time. When you're dead you lose track of time, it ceases to be important. I didn't know how long I had been listening to the music but I needed to go. Before I did, he looked up and caught my eye. In that instant I knew that Heaven might not be as wonderful as I had heard. As I began to ascend I wondered if meeting the Almighty was something worth doing. Did the heavenly creations serve God out of love or fear?
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	"Hello?" I called out into a seemingly endless abyss. I heard a weepy wobbly minor chord play on a harmonica behind me. There, in front of my own two eyes was the lord of darkness himself, slouched back on a rocking chair playing the blues. I trembled in his presence but noticed he was unamused by me. "Um, hi." I said quietly. He spat what appeared to be lava into a spittoon that seemingly constituted itself. "What you want?" He said in a low charred voice. "Are you...the devil?" "You mean the ruler of the underworld, Diablo, king of the damned, foulest of the foul? "Yeah him." "That guy hasn't been around here for a while, looks like nobody needs him anymore. He's out of a job. It's just me, Rusty McJackoff." I could see that he was down on his luck, so I walked over to him and went down to one knee. "There's nobody here who wants to drown my blasphemous soul in lakes of fire?" I could see his eyes light up, literally, flames appeared in his eyes, but it was to no avail. "He's dead." Satan threw his harmonica yards into the distance and crossed his arms. "I bet he's here. He's just...out of practice." Satan narrowed his eyes and stuck his claw out at me, "You gonna leave like the rest of 'um?" I put my hands in my pockets and shrugged my shoulders, "Well, most of the people who I can't stand are in Heaven. And if I'm the only one here, maybe we can be friends for eternity." Satan disappeared in a cloud of smoke then reappeared in front of me, in a fine demonic suit and with a red pitch fork. "I still have to torture your soul, but we can hang out. I can promote you to demon if things go well." "I had a feeling you'd say that. Eh, that's fine." Satan looked at me and smiled, "Wow, you are a great guy, why did you even get sent here?" I sighed, "I'm gay and Jewish." Satan rolled his eyes, "You know that's bullshit. Let me check your sins...Wow, I'm impressed. Murder seems to be your favorite." "Eh, it's a living." I grin from ear to ear. We both high five. End.	When I died I knew I wasn't worthy of the pearl gates. I hadn't lived a good life and I sure didn't have any noteworthy accomplishments. Hell was where I knew I was going for better or worse. A life of selfishness was all I had to show for my time on Earth. What no one ever tells you about dying is how clearly you see the world. Death unlocks knowledge and understanding that a mortal body could never harness. When I got to the underworld it wasn't quite what I expected. There was no multitude of people, there wasn't even any fire threatening to harm me. Instead of that there was only desert as far as the eye could see. The only thing that stood out was a lone figure playing the harmonica. The melancholy notes drifted across the barren expanse. Although I never talked to him, I knew immediately that I was listening to the wistful tunes of Lucifer himself. The loophole to get out wasn't new, it had always been there. Hell was created for the punishment of evil, but it was never meant to punish humanity. It was a cage designed to show everyone what the result of disobeying God was. As I continued to look at the fallen angel, I could sense the solitude that he had gone through. The musical notes communicated the feelings of anguish that had come from being alone since the dawn of time. When you're dead you lose track of time, it ceases to be important. I didn't know how long I had been listening to the music but I needed to go. Before I did, he looked up and caught my eye. In that instant I knew that Heaven might not be as wonderful as I had heard. As I began to ascend I wondered if meeting the Almighty was something worth doing. Did the heavenly creations serve God out of love or fear?
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	There were no screams when I entered Hell. I was shocked, having been raised in a Christian family, but there were no sounds of people being tortured, no crackling of the insane demons who resided in the pits of Hell. The only sound I was the sound of a harmonica, playing a very blues-esc tune. I did what was natural to a person in an unfamiliar landscape- I followed the sound. It walked for what felt like hours searching for the source of the music. Through lakes of fire and fields of brimstone I traveled before finally seeing who- or what- was playing the harmonica. I thought I was prepared for anything. I was not prepared to see Satan, the King of Babylon himself, playing the harmonica whilst looking miserable. He had noticed me almost immediately, and stopped playing. "Why are you still here?" He had asked, his voice filled with sadness and.. something else. Was it anger? Hatred? I couldn't tell. "What do you mean? This is Hell, where the sinners go for eternal damnation. I can't leave," I replied, staring at him. I quickly jumped back when I realized that I was having a civil conversation with the Evil One. Satan sighed, and the harmonica burned to a crisp, as though it were made out of paper. "You've noticed it, haven't you? The lack of screaming, the terrifying silence, the emptyness. People- and demons- have been leaving here, escaping their eternal punishment, all due to Him offering them salvation, even after thousands of years of sins and punishment. He updated his rules, just because of His son's return to Earth," he pauses, looking out over the fields formerly filled with scores of tortured souls. "So you are saying that I am free to go to Heaven, despite having committed the horrid crimes that I have?" He nods, looking at me. "You aren't even supposed to be in here for that. What you did was self defense. The suicide afterwards is what sent you here, but yes, mortal. You may leave. All you must do is pray towards Him. It will burn, but you will be immortalized in Heaven. No leave- I will be practicing my harmonica," at this point, he sounded downright miserable. I felt bad for the devil. I pitied Lucifer, and I shouldn't. I should fear him, but he sounds so broken. Millennia of watching over the worst people that the Earth has known, undone due to a change of God's Terms of Service. I made a decision that would define me for eternity. "I have a question for you, Abaddon," He looks at me, surprised at either being addressed directly by a mortal, or being called by his Hebrew name. "You play harmonica, but, according to an old bluegrass song, you played the fiddle. Is that true?" He laughed, grinning. "Well, seems like that old contest with Johnny is famous after all. I understand that you played the fiddle when you were among the mortal plane?" I nodded. "You could probably teach me a few things though. The question is, will you?" "Of course I will. Beware though- this training will put you through Hell," he laughed, crafting two violins out of the fire surrounding us. "It's a good thing that I'm already there then, right?" And then we played.	When I died I knew I wasn't worthy of the pearl gates. I hadn't lived a good life and I sure didn't have any noteworthy accomplishments. Hell was where I knew I was going for better or worse. A life of selfishness was all I had to show for my time on Earth. What no one ever tells you about dying is how clearly you see the world. Death unlocks knowledge and understanding that a mortal body could never harness. When I got to the underworld it wasn't quite what I expected. There was no multitude of people, there wasn't even any fire threatening to harm me. Instead of that there was only desert as far as the eye could see. The only thing that stood out was a lone figure playing the harmonica. The melancholy notes drifted across the barren expanse. Although I never talked to him, I knew immediately that I was listening to the wistful tunes of Lucifer himself. The loophole to get out wasn't new, it had always been there. Hell was created for the punishment of evil, but it was never meant to punish humanity. It was a cage designed to show everyone what the result of disobeying God was. As I continued to look at the fallen angel, I could sense the solitude that he had gone through. The musical notes communicated the feelings of anguish that had come from being alone since the dawn of time. When you're dead you lose track of time, it ceases to be important. I didn't know how long I had been listening to the music but I needed to go. Before I did, he looked up and caught my eye. In that instant I knew that Heaven might not be as wonderful as I had heard. As I began to ascend I wondered if meeting the Almighty was something worth doing. Did the heavenly creations serve God out of love or fear?
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	Satan sat there, the Harmonica dangling from his hands as I arrived. Poof! of brimstone, a flash of light was all it took...very theatrical and a bit cliche to be honest. "So....so...I'm condemned to Hell for all Eternity?", I whispered to the demonic shape sitting on an ordinary sofa, a sad lost look on his face. "Yes" he said matter of factly, "But You can leave whenever you want, they all did". "You LET THEM GO?" I asked shocked. "Of Course", he replied "I spent hundreds, nay thousands of years torturing people, making them eat their own eyeballs, the eyeballs of their friends and family, making them bathe in their own shit and dance around in it...but then God gave me this and I decided I had to let everyone go". "God gave you....a harmonica? and THATS what made you make everyone leave?" "That doesn't make sense". "Oh but it does", said the Devil, "for you see, as hideous and as wicked as my devilish tortures were to the damned, THIS is far worse" "How can that be possible" I asked with a terrified whisper. "I can't put it down, it plays itself, and"..he trailed off into a horrified whisper. "It only plays Justin Bieber songs". SO...finally I knew..this WAS truly Hell.	When I died I knew I wasn't worthy of the pearl gates. I hadn't lived a good life and I sure didn't have any noteworthy accomplishments. Hell was where I knew I was going for better or worse. A life of selfishness was all I had to show for my time on Earth. What no one ever tells you about dying is how clearly you see the world. Death unlocks knowledge and understanding that a mortal body could never harness. When I got to the underworld it wasn't quite what I expected. There was no multitude of people, there wasn't even any fire threatening to harm me. Instead of that there was only desert as far as the eye could see. The only thing that stood out was a lone figure playing the harmonica. The melancholy notes drifted across the barren expanse. Although I never talked to him, I knew immediately that I was listening to the wistful tunes of Lucifer himself. The loophole to get out wasn't new, it had always been there. Hell was created for the punishment of evil, but it was never meant to punish humanity. It was a cage designed to show everyone what the result of disobeying God was. As I continued to look at the fallen angel, I could sense the solitude that he had gone through. The musical notes communicated the feelings of anguish that had come from being alone since the dawn of time. When you're dead you lose track of time, it ceases to be important. I didn't know how long I had been listening to the music but I needed to go. Before I did, he looked up and caught my eye. In that instant I knew that Heaven might not be as wonderful as I had heard. As I began to ascend I wondered if meeting the Almighty was something worth doing. Did the heavenly creations serve God out of love or fear?
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	All around me were the ruins of what once must have been a great city, now deserted, and devoid of any life - human or otherwise. Snowflakes kept falling from the ever-grey sky, covering the broken buildings and streets with a thin, white dusting. I shivered. In the distance someone was playing the harmonica, a sad and sorrowful tune. Walking towards the sound, I came to a building - less ruined than the others I had passed - and I noticed a faint light shining through its boarded-up windows and from under its simple, wooden front door. I knocked, then entered, trying not drag too much snow inside with my boots. The room beyond the door might once have been called cozy - bookshelves on one wall, a fire in an open fireplace on the other, a desk and some cushy chairs - but now it all looked old and worn. The harmonica's melody stopped when I entered, and the player - sitting on one of the chairs - turned his head towards me. "Ah, there you are. I was wondering when you'd show up. Please, close the door - it's rather chilly, no? - and take a seat." he spoke and motioned to the chairs. Slightly confused I did as he asked, then sat down in one of the chairs opposite his. "Who are you?" I asked "You have been waiting for me? And what is all this? Now that I think about it, I can't even recall how I got here in the first place." The man smiled a sad smile. "To answer your questions: This is Hell. Quite litterally. And I am Satan. The Devil. Lucifer. I think you get it. As to how you got here: Simple, you died, was measured and found lacking, and so you ended up here." "I died and went to Hell?" I asked incredulousy "This is Hell? Aren't there supposed to be lakes of lava or something? And I thought Satan looked different, ya know, more demonic, horns, goat feet, and so on." - I gestured at the tired looking man in his worn-out suit - "You - no offense - look rather ordinary. Also you didn't answer me why I can't remember anything." The man who claimed to be Satan sighed. "I had a looooong chat with the folks who first brought up that 'Fire and Brimstone' nonsense. Really considered going the extra mile for them, just so they could have a first-hand comparison of both experiences. And do you really want me to be horrible and scary? It's been a while - honestly I like this body better, hard to play the harmonica with claws and all - but if you insist..." For a moment I thought I saw something flicker in his eyes. I decided to err on the side of caution. "No. No need to bother. You are fine just as you are, I was just curious." The flicker disappeared. "Regarding your memory," the man continued "that is a side effect of being in Hell; you forget things - keeps the experience fresh, ya know. Though the memories of your life should come back once you leave." "Wait a minute," I interrupted him "'Once I leave'? I thought being in Hell meant that you were there for all eternity, for forever. So how is it possible for me to leave - not that I mind tough, looking outside I can imagine better places to be." "To be honest" he replied with a tired look "that is exactly the thing. 'Eternity'. 'Forever'. There have not been any new arrivals for quintillions of years, and now finally 'Everything' is over. Time and Space are over. 'Forever' is over. You have served your time, so to say." Once more he sighed "And it would be hardly fair to release you to Heaven with memories 'eternal suffering' - now don't look at me like this, it might not have been fire and brimstone, but I made sure you paid your dues and it was not pleasant. Anyway, so you forgot, and when you leave you will remember your life, good and bad, and you will remember that you paid for your sins - though not the details - so you can enjoy Heaven." I didn't know what to say, and just nodded dumbly. "So, go on," he gestured to a second door in the room - one that I could have sworn had not been there when I first entered - "go on to Heaven. I made sure you earned it - you can take my word." Getting to my feet I took a few hesitant steps toward the second door as I heard him resume playing that sad melody on his harmonica. "What about you?" I asked. He lifted the instrument from his lips and gave me a small, geniune smile. "Very kind of you to ask. But don't worry about me. As I said, I'm closing shop. This here is my penance, there might still be a few souls left, but when the last straggler has gone, I will turn out the lights and too leave through that door. Until then I pass the time with my harmonica." I nodded, and with the sound of his harmonica in my ears, stepped through the door to Heaven.	When I died I knew I wasn't worthy of the pearl gates. I hadn't lived a good life and I sure didn't have any noteworthy accomplishments. Hell was where I knew I was going for better or worse. A life of selfishness was all I had to show for my time on Earth. What no one ever tells you about dying is how clearly you see the world. Death unlocks knowledge and understanding that a mortal body could never harness. When I got to the underworld it wasn't quite what I expected. There was no multitude of people, there wasn't even any fire threatening to harm me. Instead of that there was only desert as far as the eye could see. The only thing that stood out was a lone figure playing the harmonica. The melancholy notes drifted across the barren expanse. Although I never talked to him, I knew immediately that I was listening to the wistful tunes of Lucifer himself. The loophole to get out wasn't new, it had always been there. Hell was created for the punishment of evil, but it was never meant to punish humanity. It was a cage designed to show everyone what the result of disobeying God was. As I continued to look at the fallen angel, I could sense the solitude that he had gone through. The musical notes communicated the feelings of anguish that had come from being alone since the dawn of time. When you're dead you lose track of time, it ceases to be important. I didn't know how long I had been listening to the music but I needed to go. Before I did, he looked up and caught my eye. In that instant I knew that Heaven might not be as wonderful as I had heard. As I began to ascend I wondered if meeting the Almighty was something worth doing. Did the heavenly creations serve God out of love or fear?
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	I step forward into a well lit bar. The place is completely empty except for Al Pachino sitting on a bar stool under a pin spot on the center stage wailing on a harmonica. I look down and I’m dressed in a perfectly tailored three piece suit, and my shoes glow in the light softened by red gels. Al is now playing hook and I feel myself being pulled toward the stage; when I’m but a few feet from it another pin spot finds me and bathes me in brilliant white light. The music stops. I look up at him and say, “Wh…” The man’s lips curl around his mouth, “Who am I?” He extended his hand and a flaming glass of liquid appeared. He blew the flame out and took a sip from the glass. “You know who I am, and you know where you are, now say it.” “I’m…I’m…” “Come on now, say it like you’ve got a pair,” He demanded. “I’m dead. There was an accident, and a fire, and I didn’t survive,” I spoke each word as if I were learning the information as I was explaining it. “So is this what, a weigh station for my next life?” Al laughed, “No, you lived your life, your one shot. Was it everything you wanted?” “No, not by a long shot. So if I don’t go on, is this heaven?” He shook his head, “Nope. You my friend are in hell, and me? I’m the Devil, Satan, Lucifer, so on and so on.” “Al Pachino isn’t even dead yet… wait, why the fuck am I in hell?” I yelled as my emotions shifted from confused to angry. He sighed and snapped his fingers turning into the Robot Devil from futurama, “Is this better?” He snapped again and flashed over to a more standard, red pitchfork wielding redheaded woman. “How about this?” “Fine, you’re the Devil, I’m in hell, the question is why?” “You didn’t believe in anything. None of the religions are right, but you didn’t believe in any of them, or anything. You didn’t have to believe in the dogma of the religion, but Bill wanted you to believe in him.” “Fuck, so I’m stuck here, for an eternity? Where is Hitler, Stalin, Bea Arthur? Why is it so empty in here? Wait, Bill?” I shook my head in disbelief. “Yeah, god’s name is Bill. The reason it’s empty in here is because if you believe in Bill you take the express lane over there, straight to whatever version of heaven you can imagine.” “So, Bill sent me to hell because I didn’t believe in him. That sounds a little spiteful, right? What are you in for?” “You’re familiar with the gatekeeper?” The beautiful woman asked. “Dana from Ghostbusters, Sigourney Weaver?” I asked. The woman faded into Zuul then jumped off the stage to stand in front of me and in that voice asked, “Are you a god?” Instantly she began to laugh. I laughed just as hard and then said, “Ray, when someone asks if you’re a god, you say yes!” I slapped her on the shoulder and laughed some more. Zuul faded into a man with a long flowing white beard holding a scroll and quill pen, in front of us on the stage gates began to form from the shadows. “I was thinking more like Saint Peter. That’s more or less who I am. I am the gatekeeper between the world you came from and the afterlife. “ “Does everyone get in?” I asked. “Most, but there are a few who don’t feel they’re ready, or some that are so paranoid they expect it to be a test. So they just sit here praying silently to themselves.” I glanced around the bar and said, “But we’re alone.” “Are we?” The old man shifted back into the form of Al Pachino and ascended back to his bar stool perch on the stage. With a wave of his hand, suddenly the bar was filled with people from all different walks of life. The bar now had a young topless woman. her arms tattooed in full sleeves behind the counter drinking liquid in and spiting it out across an open flame, a bright orange fireball passed over the bar. The people sitting on stools ducked and instinctively before sitting back up. Another table had nuns praying the rosary, next to them another group of Hasidic Jews murmured among themselves keeping nearly silent vigil. There were men in suits wandering toward me, and women in every manner of outfit from short black dress to full length ball gown. I turned back to Al and when I did the noises died down all around me as the people vanished. Al looked down at me as I looked up at him and he played a short riff on the glimmering harmonica, and when he finished he said, “Do you recognized Bill to be your creator, and responsible for all that you are?” “If I did, that would mean I didn’t believe in free will. I can’t do that, I’m every bit as responsible for who I am as some absentee father figure. So no, I can’t say that.” “You do realize that you’ll be banished to this place for all eternity right?” I smiled and said, “Bring back the people, and lets get this party started. Do you take requests? How about The Devil Went Down to Georgia?” “Not that fucking song, do you think I could be beaten in a contest? I’ve been doing this for eons you think Charlie Daniels with fifty years of practice is going to beat me? Fuck that guy.”	When I died I knew I wasn't worthy of the pearl gates. I hadn't lived a good life and I sure didn't have any noteworthy accomplishments. Hell was where I knew I was going for better or worse. A life of selfishness was all I had to show for my time on Earth. What no one ever tells you about dying is how clearly you see the world. Death unlocks knowledge and understanding that a mortal body could never harness. When I got to the underworld it wasn't quite what I expected. There was no multitude of people, there wasn't even any fire threatening to harm me. Instead of that there was only desert as far as the eye could see. The only thing that stood out was a lone figure playing the harmonica. The melancholy notes drifted across the barren expanse. Although I never talked to him, I knew immediately that I was listening to the wistful tunes of Lucifer himself. The loophole to get out wasn't new, it had always been there. Hell was created for the punishment of evil, but it was never meant to punish humanity. It was a cage designed to show everyone what the result of disobeying God was. As I continued to look at the fallen angel, I could sense the solitude that he had gone through. The musical notes communicated the feelings of anguish that had come from being alone since the dawn of time. When you're dead you lose track of time, it ceases to be important. I didn't know how long I had been listening to the music but I needed to go. Before I did, he looked up and caught my eye. In that instant I knew that Heaven might not be as wonderful as I had heard. As I began to ascend I wondered if meeting the Almighty was something worth doing. Did the heavenly creations serve God out of love or fear?
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	The soft tones of the ancient wind instrument trailed off as the Lord of Hell finally acknowledged my presence in his domain “You…play the harmonica?” I asked, still trying to wrap my head around the features that now surrounded me. He set his harmonica down on a nearby table that was formed out of pumice, and had small trails of lava pouring out of holes in the sides quite artistically. He adjusted his position on the stool he sat upon to regard me, his amber eyes seeming to pierce right through to my soul…if I still had one. “Indeed. This particular specimen is one of the first mass-produced examples of the modern day instrument you may be familiar with. I took it from the inventor as he came through my doors. “ Satan paused for a moment, “He left it to me when he decided to ascend, it was quite unfortunate that such a gracious man ended up in my custody.” He stood up and walked over to me, placing his hand upon my shoulder . Standing over 7 feet tall and powerfully built, he was as physically imposing a figure as one would imagine the keeper of the underworld to be. “You’re free to ascend as well, human. A new judgement was passed some time ago, no longer is anyone to be enslaved against their will.” I took a step back from him, looking down I reflected on the events that brought me here. “I know. Saint Peter informed me that I was eligible for entry into heaven. I chose this place instead.” With a curious grunt, Lucifer turned around and approached a void in the wall. He waved his hand across it and, like a hologram, key events in my life flashed across the space. Scenes of battle and lust, bigotry and slander streamed endlessly like a video loop until he cast it away. He didn’t even turn to address me, “You seem to have committed no atrocities, no war crimes. A few petty misdeeds, and certainly things that would have led to your disgrace under the old system, but far from the worst I’ve seen.” I shook my head softly in agreement. “So,” Another pause as he turned to face me again, “What lead you to choose this place? You have no family down here, no friends, no lovers. They’re up there, “ he pointed towards the roof of the chamber we were in, “enjoying themselves. Awaiting you.” Another pause, and then softer, “Everyone’s up there nowadays.” It was at this time that I could finally regard him directly, “And when I was hungry, cold, and alone…I remember what that felt like. They never helped me, instead I was saved by a very kind man who had never known me before. He said that I should do the same thing whenever I was given the opportunity, but I never was able to do so. Until now.” The Devil’s gaze softened, and he sat down on the same stool that I had encountered him on. He motioned me to join him on a similar one. “It’s been a long time since I was enjoyed for my company. Tell me, what would you like to do?” Sitting next to him, I only had one request: “Tell me your story, from your side of things.”	When I died I knew I wasn't worthy of the pearl gates. I hadn't lived a good life and I sure didn't have any noteworthy accomplishments. Hell was where I knew I was going for better or worse. A life of selfishness was all I had to show for my time on Earth. What no one ever tells you about dying is how clearly you see the world. Death unlocks knowledge and understanding that a mortal body could never harness. When I got to the underworld it wasn't quite what I expected. There was no multitude of people, there wasn't even any fire threatening to harm me. Instead of that there was only desert as far as the eye could see. The only thing that stood out was a lone figure playing the harmonica. The melancholy notes drifted across the barren expanse. Although I never talked to him, I knew immediately that I was listening to the wistful tunes of Lucifer himself. The loophole to get out wasn't new, it had always been there. Hell was created for the punishment of evil, but it was never meant to punish humanity. It was a cage designed to show everyone what the result of disobeying God was. As I continued to look at the fallen angel, I could sense the solitude that he had gone through. The musical notes communicated the feelings of anguish that had come from being alone since the dawn of time. When you're dead you lose track of time, it ceases to be important. I didn't know how long I had been listening to the music but I needed to go. Before I did, he looked up and caught my eye. In that instant I knew that Heaven might not be as wonderful as I had heard. As I began to ascend I wondered if meeting the Almighty was something worth doing. Did the heavenly creations serve God out of love or fear?
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	It sounds weird to think that to myself, but I was dead and now here I am. I was old when I died, lived a very good life, or at least it was entertaining. Oh, the things I've done, the places I visited, the girls I loved, I can remember them very well; too well in fact. Every small detail I forgot in my old age I could recall without problems now. Based on a lot of those details - if the priests were speaking the truth - I should be in hell right now. I looked around - it's a strange place. It must be the waiting room; too nice for hell, too empty for heaven... Actually, I would imagine too empty for hell too. Purgatory perhaps? Who lays purgatory with grass though? Right, "he" does. The weather's nice, sun(or whatever it's called in here) is shining through blossoming trees, it feels very comfortable for me. A brown gazebo stands not far away, beautiful music is coming out from it. I'll go check it out, not like I have anything better to do. As I'm walking towards it I notice there's someone sitting inside. A young man with long brown hair, tied into a knot. He's playing harmonica. Is it saint Peter? Or maybe Jesus himself? He's rather pretty, I think it's actually Jesus. First time in my life I'm star-struck. I approach slowly and sit on the bench on the opposite side of gazebo. I got so occupied with choosing the right place to sit I forgot to pay attention to what's happening. The man has stopped playing and is looking at me in shock. Have I already done something wrong? Was I supposed to bring my own instrument and play something? -"What are you doing here?"- asked the man. What a stupid question, I think he's supposed to know. Is the beaurocracy in here as bad as it's 'down there'? -"I have died and now I'm here."- I answered quite honestly, I thought. -"Why aren't you with the rest of your people?" -"How am I supposed to know, I just got here."- I started to believe this man is not saint Peter or Jesus at all. Weren't they supposed to know this stuff? -"Weren't you supposed to know this?" -"Who do you think I am?" -"I don't know, saint Peter?" - I didn't go for the Jesus, obviously a son of a god would know why I'm here. -"My name's Lucifer." -"Satan? The satan? So where are we?" -"Hell, obviously." -"This..." -" ...doesn't look like hell." - he interrupted my sentence. I looked at him for a while, anticipating when everything around me will burst in flames. I figured the grass and overall pleasant surroundings were just a ruse, like a one last false hope, twisted form of torture. He continued talking - "I used to get that a lot. None of you thought this could be hell." -"So what now?" -"Oh that's right, you still think I'm here to torment you. I have to explain this every damn time. We're in this here together. I'm stuck here just as much as you are. I don't care about torturing you." -"What?" -"Hell is a place where there is no God. That's it. Other than that it's quite cozy for you - people. It's like your world, and you get to live forever, without hunger or pain. You just don't get to feel his presence, which isn't any different from your previous life. For angels who were at his side before it's a terrible fate. " -"So that's it? I just get to sit here forever? " -"Well you could always go to heaven to see his glory and enjoy eternity for what it truly could be." -"So what do I have to do?" -"I'm stuck here. I'll always be here. No matter what I do I'll never feel his warmth again. Take pity on the devil, stranger, for all I know is misery." -"And that's it?" -"Can you see anyone else here?" Minutes passed and we just sat there. He was pretty good with the harmonica, I wonder what he could do with a fiddle. After an hour he produced another harmonica out of thin air and handed it to me - "Do you know how to play it? Go ahead, take it. I'll teach you, my friend." As soon as I took it, a blinding light started shining from behind him. White wings were hard to miss, those must be angels. They came to take me to heaven, I thought to myself - a bit late, but I guess I can't be unhappy about it in the grand scheme of things. Then the weirdest thing happened - they didn't grab me. They grabbed the fucking devil and disappeared. I couldn't take pity on him no matter how hard I tried, after all I learned. He pitied me. Might as well learn how to play the harmonica.	When I died I knew I wasn't worthy of the pearl gates. I hadn't lived a good life and I sure didn't have any noteworthy accomplishments. Hell was where I knew I was going for better or worse. A life of selfishness was all I had to show for my time on Earth. What no one ever tells you about dying is how clearly you see the world. Death unlocks knowledge and understanding that a mortal body could never harness. When I got to the underworld it wasn't quite what I expected. There was no multitude of people, there wasn't even any fire threatening to harm me. Instead of that there was only desert as far as the eye could see. The only thing that stood out was a lone figure playing the harmonica. The melancholy notes drifted across the barren expanse. Although I never talked to him, I knew immediately that I was listening to the wistful tunes of Lucifer himself. The loophole to get out wasn't new, it had always been there. Hell was created for the punishment of evil, but it was never meant to punish humanity. It was a cage designed to show everyone what the result of disobeying God was. As I continued to look at the fallen angel, I could sense the solitude that he had gone through. The musical notes communicated the feelings of anguish that had come from being alone since the dawn of time. When you're dead you lose track of time, it ceases to be important. I didn't know how long I had been listening to the music but I needed to go. Before I did, he looked up and caught my eye. In that instant I knew that Heaven might not be as wonderful as I had heard. As I began to ascend I wondered if meeting the Almighty was something worth doing. Did the heavenly creations serve God out of love or fear?
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	It was so empty. I never imagined Hell would be this empty, it just made no sense to me. I have been walking for what seemed like eternity, and I'm not sure if that's what it was, time seemed to be meaningless in here. All I could do was follow a distant sound, far away and yet so close, but I still didn't know what it was. I came up to a hill, this time I was certain the sound came from here. I had no clue what I would find at the top of the hill. The one single person so bad they are the only inhabitant of hell. Besides me, and I didn't know why. I was getting closer, and I could finally make out the music. Blues. When I got to the top I could finally see him, sitting there, playing his harmonica into the vast, empty land before him. He seemed pretty normal save for his red skin. He was sitting in the middle of what seemed like a stage, surrounded by a couple of electric guitars, a bass, and a drum set. I sat behind him and took the bass, trying to remember the little I knew from high school. I played one note, and he immediately turned around, cutting off the music. His eyes were like a snake's, looking at me, examining every detail, silently. "Are you Satan?" - "You're not too perceptive, are you?" - "I think I'm perceptive enough." - "Not enough to see the great damn glowing stairway when you arrived, now you'll have to go all the way back." - "Why would I?" - "So you can get to heaven." - "What do you mean? Isn't this supposed to be eternal punishment?" - "Well, yeah, but you see, the thing is, God sat down and did some math, and he figured he killed more people than the entire combined strength of hell. The guy hates me, so he decided that instead of coming down here, they all deserved to go up there instead, even Adolf. Even all the damn executives were let loose." - "Then why are you still here?" - "I helped him with plenty of it. Besides, I like it here." - "If everyone gets up there, then why did I arrive here?" - "Heaven's not very good with logistics, they've only had to deal with a handful of people a century until the last few days. My guess is my helpers, the very first few to ever arrive, taught them how we ran things down here, and you probably slipped through the cracks. So, why don't you go up there, the staircase should close when you get to the top." - "And you'll be left here for the rest of eternity?" - "Sounds about right." He turned back and started playing his harmonica again. I got up and headed towards the staircase. His music got louder. I came back. He looked at me, slightly surprised. "Still here?" - "I thought about it, heaven's probably filled to the brim right now, so I figured I would stay a while, if you don't mind." - "Sure, pull up a chair, have you own part of my empire of dirt." I sat next to him, playing a simple bass line, and listening to the beautiful sounds of his harmonica. It's been quite some time now, but I never felt a need to get up so far.	'It's not your fault everyone left, buddy' I sighed, this was definitely starting to get.... awkward. 'Everyone hates me! I can't do anything right it's just SO unfair!!!' 'Just because everyone left you, literally climbing over each other to leave does not mean it was because of you'. Convincing the Devil he was a nice guy at heart is not really how I expected this Sunday to go. 'Lucy, this happens every year when the people start escaping again.' I was beginning to plead, 'Let's just go out, maybe watch a few episodes of Supernatural and you'll be happy again'. 'The writers of fucking Supernatural hate me aswell!' 'Yeh but the fan girls on Tumblr love you' 'Fuck off, Dave'
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	For a while, there had been silence. Have you ever been on a ride at an amusement park that goes at once from a high speed to a complete stop, or been in a car accident and found yourself thrown against the seat-belt? That is precisely what it felt like when Elliot went to Hell: like he had been going very fast and had suddenly stopped. (And maybe, he would later consider, that was a half-decent summary of death.) As if launched upward from a terrible nightmare, he jolted into being, gasping for breath he had not been deprived of. The air smelled like a hospital someone had been smoking in, a tainted sterility. Once his vision pulled into focus, he found himself in what looked like a waiting room. To what, he wasn't sure, for it certainly wasn't clean enough to be a hospital, and come to think of it. . . There was no one else waiting. There was no quiet murmur of life. All he could hear was what sounded an awful lot like a harmonica. At a cursory search for any staff behind the desk, Elliot found only him. Satan, who was by all means looking terribly bored, was sitting on the intake desk playing the harmonica. This answered one question and gave way to another hundred. The first to come to mind crawled up Elliot's throat before he had time to think about it: "What the hell?" It became clear then that the devil had not actually seen him until that moment. His eyes flickered up from the spot they had been lazily fixed on, like two great fireballs somehow confined within his eye sockets. It took a moment of squinting for him to open his mouth, baring shark-like teeth. First was a sigh. Then, Satan flatly stated, "I assume that was supposed to be a joke." For all the awful feelings in the world, Satan himself being so clearly unimpressed at Elliot was definitely crawling up the list of the worst. Further up on the list was his mounting fear. "No," he forced out after a moment of trying not to stammer. "No - I just. . ." His head reeled and he took a few seconds to gather himself. One deep breath in, one shuddering huff out. When he spoke again, he was quieter. "I'm dead. I'm dead and you're -" "Yes, I am he," Satan answered tiredly. "The Devil. Father of lies. Evil itself. Lucifer. Whatever name you choose, this is who stands. . ." He seemed to reevaluate his statement, and slipped off the desk to stand before Elliot before continuing, "Who stands before you." Standing, Satan wasn't more than a foot taller than Elliot, but it felt like he towered nonetheless. Yet there was something about him that seemed off. He didn't reek of ego or pride the way he probably should have. If anything, he seemed. . . Was 'sad' the right word? Elliot considered it as he took a cautious glance around. "This is Hell, isn't it? Where, uh - where is everyone?" "They're in Heaven." "What?" That didn't make sense. Surely not everyone else who had ever died would be in Heaven. "You're not telling me that I'm the only person who's ever gone to Hell. That's ridiculous." "Oh, no," Satan answered, starting to pace a slow circle around Elliot. "I'm not telling you that. You're simply the only person who has ever stayed. And even that remains to be seen." This only worsened the confusion that Elliot felt about this whole thing, but he was trying to understand. It was made somewhat more difficult by the fact that he was also trying to keep an eye on Satan, and this had caused him to turn slowly in place as the devil circled him. "I don't understand. I thought people stayed in Hell, like. Forever." When Satan laughed, it was an exhausted laugh, but it still drove a cold spike into Elliot's heart. "Ah, so did we. Suppose I ought to read my contracts better. Regardless, I've no interest in giving you a history lesson. Hell is by all means a dead kingdom. Go on," he said, stopping his pacing and giving a grandiose gesture to the doors at the far end of the room. "Into the hall, the last doors on your right. Heaven lies beyond." This was far too easy. "You're not going to torture me?" "My torturers quit, actually. And I'm not in the business, personally." "So there's no one here but you?" "No," Satan snapped. "There's not. Are you going to keep questioning me, or are you going to leave? I assure you, you won't get bored up there. Have your fun." He began to pace back toward the desk, and in that moment, Elliot caught himself feeling the slightest bit bad for the devil. Liar or otherwise, it did look like he was completely alone here. Everyone had abandoned Hell for greener pastures, and to him, it didn't even look much like Hell anymore. It was simply a drab building, perhaps a little warm and a little musty, with a harmonica and Satan and a chess set. His eyes locked on that. Elliot had always loved a challenge. "Wait," he called out, and received a cool glance in response. A quirked eyebrow. "Do you actually want me to go?" There was a pause. Satan turned back, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the desk. "Not particularly. But I have no means of stopping you, and it's best not to delay the inevitable." It took a moment of mustering his courage, but Elliot walked over to the desk. He didn't stand too close, but instead tapped the chessboard lightly. "Inevitable is a strong word," he said, and prided himself on how collected he sounded. "Just humour me for a second. You play?" "You're surprised?" "Not really. Listen. . . Fuck it, let's make a deal. One game. No cheating. If I win, I'll go to Heaven, and that's that. If you win, I'll stay here. You can do whatever you want with me. Even if that means taking up torture again." This was, perhaps, the stupidest thing Elliot had ever done, just short of dying. He hardly knew why he was doing it. There had just been something about the image of Satan himself in a barren, empty Hell, playing the harmonica. . . It was just wrong. And Elliot was pretty good at chess. Slowly but surely, Satan strolled his way. He leaned on the desk, his lithe form twisting in a strange way to accommodate for the odd height difference. And then, in a terrifying if almost charming way, he grinned. With one long finger, he pushed a few misplaced pieces back into their starting locations. "You do know you just made a deal with the Devil," he said casually, his eyes burning into Elliot's. Elliot forced himself to look away and focus on the board, where he was already planning his first move. After a second, he let out a surprisingly genuine, short laugh. "Yeah. I guess I did."	'It's not your fault everyone left, buddy' I sighed, this was definitely starting to get.... awkward. 'Everyone hates me! I can't do anything right it's just SO unfair!!!' 'Just because everyone left you, literally climbing over each other to leave does not mean it was because of you'. Convincing the Devil he was a nice guy at heart is not really how I expected this Sunday to go. 'Lucy, this happens every year when the people start escaping again.' I was beginning to plead, 'Let's just go out, maybe watch a few episodes of Supernatural and you'll be happy again'. 'The writers of fucking Supernatural hate me aswell!' 'Yeh but the fan girls on Tumblr love you' 'Fuck off, Dave'
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	I died screaming. That kind of happens when a 300lb hell cat was eating your face. But I woke up so it was a little anticlimactic. I always thought I'd be awed by what I saw on the other side, but nah the last couple years of apocalypse level jackassery beat it out of me. The landscape was a ruin of burnt trees and blackened ground. Not a shit ton different than earth. The sound of a harmonica whispered through the still air. It could have been blues, or it could have been hill billy rock. I didn't listen to either. I strolled through the barren landscape. It didn't look like there was much worry about, no people, no demons. No all the demons were on Earth, wrecking havoc and eating peoples faces. The people were, well, they weren't in hell. I followed the music to a man sitting on a stump beside a fire. I didn't think it was cold enough for a fire but it was hell so I didn't know shit. He also sucked at the harmonica. “Dude, could you not?” The man stopped playing and looked up at me. “You don't have to stay. Door out is that way.” Lo and behold there was a actual door ringed in blue fire and emitting a bright warming light. I was drawn to it like a moth to flame, but I like to make bad decisions so I stayed. “Why are you still here?” “I can't get out. I'm here for eternity.” He put down the harmonica and poked at the fire. “They found a loophole. Too much torture, too much anger, too many lawyers. They found a way out. Everything left. The souls went to heaven. The demons…” “Went to earth. It kind of fucked us too.” The devil looked a little sheepish. “I noticed.” A scream cut through the air and a body fell through the air and splattered across the burnt ground. I wondered if I arrived the same way. “Gross,” I commented. Satan shrugged. The mass quickly reformed into a man. He scrambled to his feet and ran for the bright door without even looking at us. Gotta say, he had a good idea. ”That happen a lot?” “Yep.” “Dude, you gotta stop torturing yourself. That can't be good for you.” He glared at me with flame sparked eyes. “We are in hell.” “Yeah, but you don't gotta sulk. Don't you have a castle around here or something?” He stood up growing taller and larger by the moment. “I am the Prince of Darkness, Lord of the Flies, I can make anything I should need.” I had to admit I was impressed, but really, hellcat to the face ruined me for all the other monsters. “Well, right now, Prince, I'm your only subject. So, ya know, chill.” The devil deflated and looked around. He looked sad and completely lost. “Come on, bro. Let's go to your castle and I'll show you how to make a sandwich. You could probably use a hot cocoa too.” Satan sighed. He stomped out the fire. “Yeah, alright. I don't have anything better to do.” I clapped him on the back. He'll wasn’t going to be that bad. “Oh, yeah, toss the harmonica. You gotta get a guitar if you want anyone to respect you."	'It's not your fault everyone left, buddy' I sighed, this was definitely starting to get.... awkward. 'Everyone hates me! I can't do anything right it's just SO unfair!!!' 'Just because everyone left you, literally climbing over each other to leave does not mean it was because of you'. Convincing the Devil he was a nice guy at heart is not really how I expected this Sunday to go. 'Lucy, this happens every year when the people start escaping again.' I was beginning to plead, 'Let's just go out, maybe watch a few episodes of Supernatural and you'll be happy again'. 'The writers of fucking Supernatural hate me aswell!' 'Yeh but the fan girls on Tumblr love you' 'Fuck off, Dave'
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	>Oh God damnit! I spun around confused. Just moments earlier I'd been walking down the street, and now I was in a cold, dark, lifeless...abyss. Before me was terror incarnate. Black horns over a foot long sprung from the stranger's red face. Well, red everything. This had to be Satan. The giant figure sighed, sat down a harmonica, and stood. >Just when I finally...sigh...welcome to Hell, darkness and everlasting torment...whatever. I am the dark one, Satan. Not knowing what to say I offered a meager head nod. Should I bow? >No, don't bow. Just prepare yourself for pain and terror for the rest of eternity. I felt myself starting to panic, looking around for escape or help. The realization hit me I'm all alone with the most evil creature ever brought into creation. And apparently the bastard can read my thoughts. Wait, why am I alone with...it? Where is everyone? >Yes, that's right. It's just you and me. And I will make you suffer. But before we begin I must warn you. Whatever you do, DO NOT go through the door marked exit. An exit? In Hell? Should I try... >Oh no, don't, stop, I'm warning you. Without thinking another moment I sprinted towards the door. Satan didn't even give chase. As I pulled the door open a blinding, white light sprung through. >Oh no, another one got away. Well, guess I'll just enjoy a little peace and quiet. As the door shut behind me all I could hear was stilted harmonica music interspersed with booming laughter.	'It's not your fault everyone left, buddy' I sighed, this was definitely starting to get.... awkward. 'Everyone hates me! I can't do anything right it's just SO unfair!!!' 'Just because everyone left you, literally climbing over each other to leave does not mean it was because of you'. Convincing the Devil he was a nice guy at heart is not really how I expected this Sunday to go. 'Lucy, this happens every year when the people start escaping again.' I was beginning to plead, 'Let's just go out, maybe watch a few episodes of Supernatural and you'll be happy again'. 'The writers of fucking Supernatural hate me aswell!' 'Yeh but the fan girls on Tumblr love you' 'Fuck off, Dave'
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	"Hello?" I called out into a seemingly endless abyss. I heard a weepy wobbly minor chord play on a harmonica behind me. There, in front of my own two eyes was the lord of darkness himself, slouched back on a rocking chair playing the blues. I trembled in his presence but noticed he was unamused by me. "Um, hi." I said quietly. He spat what appeared to be lava into a spittoon that seemingly constituted itself. "What you want?" He said in a low charred voice. "Are you...the devil?" "You mean the ruler of the underworld, Diablo, king of the damned, foulest of the foul? "Yeah him." "That guy hasn't been around here for a while, looks like nobody needs him anymore. He's out of a job. It's just me, Rusty McJackoff." I could see that he was down on his luck, so I walked over to him and went down to one knee. "There's nobody here who wants to drown my blasphemous soul in lakes of fire?" I could see his eyes light up, literally, flames appeared in his eyes, but it was to no avail. "He's dead." Satan threw his harmonica yards into the distance and crossed his arms. "I bet he's here. He's just...out of practice." Satan narrowed his eyes and stuck his claw out at me, "You gonna leave like the rest of 'um?" I put my hands in my pockets and shrugged my shoulders, "Well, most of the people who I can't stand are in Heaven. And if I'm the only one here, maybe we can be friends for eternity." Satan disappeared in a cloud of smoke then reappeared in front of me, in a fine demonic suit and with a red pitch fork. "I still have to torture your soul, but we can hang out. I can promote you to demon if things go well." "I had a feeling you'd say that. Eh, that's fine." Satan looked at me and smiled, "Wow, you are a great guy, why did you even get sent here?" I sighed, "I'm gay and Jewish." Satan rolled his eyes, "You know that's bullshit. Let me check your sins...Wow, I'm impressed. Murder seems to be your favorite." "Eh, it's a living." I grin from ear to ear. We both high five. End.	'It's not your fault everyone left, buddy' I sighed, this was definitely starting to get.... awkward. 'Everyone hates me! I can't do anything right it's just SO unfair!!!' 'Just because everyone left you, literally climbing over each other to leave does not mean it was because of you'. Convincing the Devil he was a nice guy at heart is not really how I expected this Sunday to go. 'Lucy, this happens every year when the people start escaping again.' I was beginning to plead, 'Let's just go out, maybe watch a few episodes of Supernatural and you'll be happy again'. 'The writers of fucking Supernatural hate me aswell!' 'Yeh but the fan girls on Tumblr love you' 'Fuck off, Dave'
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	There were no screams when I entered Hell. I was shocked, having been raised in a Christian family, but there were no sounds of people being tortured, no crackling of the insane demons who resided in the pits of Hell. The only sound I was the sound of a harmonica, playing a very blues-esc tune. I did what was natural to a person in an unfamiliar landscape- I followed the sound. It walked for what felt like hours searching for the source of the music. Through lakes of fire and fields of brimstone I traveled before finally seeing who- or what- was playing the harmonica. I thought I was prepared for anything. I was not prepared to see Satan, the King of Babylon himself, playing the harmonica whilst looking miserable. He had noticed me almost immediately, and stopped playing. "Why are you still here?" He had asked, his voice filled with sadness and.. something else. Was it anger? Hatred? I couldn't tell. "What do you mean? This is Hell, where the sinners go for eternal damnation. I can't leave," I replied, staring at him. I quickly jumped back when I realized that I was having a civil conversation with the Evil One. Satan sighed, and the harmonica burned to a crisp, as though it were made out of paper. "You've noticed it, haven't you? The lack of screaming, the terrifying silence, the emptyness. People- and demons- have been leaving here, escaping their eternal punishment, all due to Him offering them salvation, even after thousands of years of sins and punishment. He updated his rules, just because of His son's return to Earth," he pauses, looking out over the fields formerly filled with scores of tortured souls. "So you are saying that I am free to go to Heaven, despite having committed the horrid crimes that I have?" He nods, looking at me. "You aren't even supposed to be in here for that. What you did was self defense. The suicide afterwards is what sent you here, but yes, mortal. You may leave. All you must do is pray towards Him. It will burn, but you will be immortalized in Heaven. No leave- I will be practicing my harmonica," at this point, he sounded downright miserable. I felt bad for the devil. I pitied Lucifer, and I shouldn't. I should fear him, but he sounds so broken. Millennia of watching over the worst people that the Earth has known, undone due to a change of God's Terms of Service. I made a decision that would define me for eternity. "I have a question for you, Abaddon," He looks at me, surprised at either being addressed directly by a mortal, or being called by his Hebrew name. "You play harmonica, but, according to an old bluegrass song, you played the fiddle. Is that true?" He laughed, grinning. "Well, seems like that old contest with Johnny is famous after all. I understand that you played the fiddle when you were among the mortal plane?" I nodded. "You could probably teach me a few things though. The question is, will you?" "Of course I will. Beware though- this training will put you through Hell," he laughed, crafting two violins out of the fire surrounding us. "It's a good thing that I'm already there then, right?" And then we played.	'It's not your fault everyone left, buddy' I sighed, this was definitely starting to get.... awkward. 'Everyone hates me! I can't do anything right it's just SO unfair!!!' 'Just because everyone left you, literally climbing over each other to leave does not mean it was because of you'. Convincing the Devil he was a nice guy at heart is not really how I expected this Sunday to go. 'Lucy, this happens every year when the people start escaping again.' I was beginning to plead, 'Let's just go out, maybe watch a few episodes of Supernatural and you'll be happy again'. 'The writers of fucking Supernatural hate me aswell!' 'Yeh but the fan girls on Tumblr love you' 'Fuck off, Dave'
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	Satan sat there, the Harmonica dangling from his hands as I arrived. Poof! of brimstone, a flash of light was all it took...very theatrical and a bit cliche to be honest. "So....so...I'm condemned to Hell for all Eternity?", I whispered to the demonic shape sitting on an ordinary sofa, a sad lost look on his face. "Yes" he said matter of factly, "But You can leave whenever you want, they all did". "You LET THEM GO?" I asked shocked. "Of Course", he replied "I spent hundreds, nay thousands of years torturing people, making them eat their own eyeballs, the eyeballs of their friends and family, making them bathe in their own shit and dance around in it...but then God gave me this and I decided I had to let everyone go". "God gave you....a harmonica? and THATS what made you make everyone leave?" "That doesn't make sense". "Oh but it does", said the Devil, "for you see, as hideous and as wicked as my devilish tortures were to the damned, THIS is far worse" "How can that be possible" I asked with a terrified whisper. "I can't put it down, it plays itself, and"..he trailed off into a horrified whisper. "It only plays Justin Bieber songs". SO...finally I knew..this WAS truly Hell.	'It's not your fault everyone left, buddy' I sighed, this was definitely starting to get.... awkward. 'Everyone hates me! I can't do anything right it's just SO unfair!!!' 'Just because everyone left you, literally climbing over each other to leave does not mean it was because of you'. Convincing the Devil he was a nice guy at heart is not really how I expected this Sunday to go. 'Lucy, this happens every year when the people start escaping again.' I was beginning to plead, 'Let's just go out, maybe watch a few episodes of Supernatural and you'll be happy again'. 'The writers of fucking Supernatural hate me aswell!' 'Yeh but the fan girls on Tumblr love you' 'Fuck off, Dave'
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	All around me were the ruins of what once must have been a great city, now deserted, and devoid of any life - human or otherwise. Snowflakes kept falling from the ever-grey sky, covering the broken buildings and streets with a thin, white dusting. I shivered. In the distance someone was playing the harmonica, a sad and sorrowful tune. Walking towards the sound, I came to a building - less ruined than the others I had passed - and I noticed a faint light shining through its boarded-up windows and from under its simple, wooden front door. I knocked, then entered, trying not drag too much snow inside with my boots. The room beyond the door might once have been called cozy - bookshelves on one wall, a fire in an open fireplace on the other, a desk and some cushy chairs - but now it all looked old and worn. The harmonica's melody stopped when I entered, and the player - sitting on one of the chairs - turned his head towards me. "Ah, there you are. I was wondering when you'd show up. Please, close the door - it's rather chilly, no? - and take a seat." he spoke and motioned to the chairs. Slightly confused I did as he asked, then sat down in one of the chairs opposite his. "Who are you?" I asked "You have been waiting for me? And what is all this? Now that I think about it, I can't even recall how I got here in the first place." The man smiled a sad smile. "To answer your questions: This is Hell. Quite litterally. And I am Satan. The Devil. Lucifer. I think you get it. As to how you got here: Simple, you died, was measured and found lacking, and so you ended up here." "I died and went to Hell?" I asked incredulousy "This is Hell? Aren't there supposed to be lakes of lava or something? And I thought Satan looked different, ya know, more demonic, horns, goat feet, and so on." - I gestured at the tired looking man in his worn-out suit - "You - no offense - look rather ordinary. Also you didn't answer me why I can't remember anything." The man who claimed to be Satan sighed. "I had a looooong chat with the folks who first brought up that 'Fire and Brimstone' nonsense. Really considered going the extra mile for them, just so they could have a first-hand comparison of both experiences. And do you really want me to be horrible and scary? It's been a while - honestly I like this body better, hard to play the harmonica with claws and all - but if you insist..." For a moment I thought I saw something flicker in his eyes. I decided to err on the side of caution. "No. No need to bother. You are fine just as you are, I was just curious." The flicker disappeared. "Regarding your memory," the man continued "that is a side effect of being in Hell; you forget things - keeps the experience fresh, ya know. Though the memories of your life should come back once you leave." "Wait a minute," I interrupted him "'Once I leave'? I thought being in Hell meant that you were there for all eternity, for forever. So how is it possible for me to leave - not that I mind tough, looking outside I can imagine better places to be." "To be honest" he replied with a tired look "that is exactly the thing. 'Eternity'. 'Forever'. There have not been any new arrivals for quintillions of years, and now finally 'Everything' is over. Time and Space are over. 'Forever' is over. You have served your time, so to say." Once more he sighed "And it would be hardly fair to release you to Heaven with memories 'eternal suffering' - now don't look at me like this, it might not have been fire and brimstone, but I made sure you paid your dues and it was not pleasant. Anyway, so you forgot, and when you leave you will remember your life, good and bad, and you will remember that you paid for your sins - though not the details - so you can enjoy Heaven." I didn't know what to say, and just nodded dumbly. "So, go on," he gestured to a second door in the room - one that I could have sworn had not been there when I first entered - "go on to Heaven. I made sure you earned it - you can take my word." Getting to my feet I took a few hesitant steps toward the second door as I heard him resume playing that sad melody on his harmonica. "What about you?" I asked. He lifted the instrument from his lips and gave me a small, geniune smile. "Very kind of you to ask. But don't worry about me. As I said, I'm closing shop. This here is my penance, there might still be a few souls left, but when the last straggler has gone, I will turn out the lights and too leave through that door. Until then I pass the time with my harmonica." I nodded, and with the sound of his harmonica in my ears, stepped through the door to Heaven.	'It's not your fault everyone left, buddy' I sighed, this was definitely starting to get.... awkward. 'Everyone hates me! I can't do anything right it's just SO unfair!!!' 'Just because everyone left you, literally climbing over each other to leave does not mean it was because of you'. Convincing the Devil he was a nice guy at heart is not really how I expected this Sunday to go. 'Lucy, this happens every year when the people start escaping again.' I was beginning to plead, 'Let's just go out, maybe watch a few episodes of Supernatural and you'll be happy again'. 'The writers of fucking Supernatural hate me aswell!' 'Yeh but the fan girls on Tumblr love you' 'Fuck off, Dave'
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	I step forward into a well lit bar. The place is completely empty except for Al Pachino sitting on a bar stool under a pin spot on the center stage wailing on a harmonica. I look down and I’m dressed in a perfectly tailored three piece suit, and my shoes glow in the light softened by red gels. Al is now playing hook and I feel myself being pulled toward the stage; when I’m but a few feet from it another pin spot finds me and bathes me in brilliant white light. The music stops. I look up at him and say, “Wh…” The man’s lips curl around his mouth, “Who am I?” He extended his hand and a flaming glass of liquid appeared. He blew the flame out and took a sip from the glass. “You know who I am, and you know where you are, now say it.” “I’m…I’m…” “Come on now, say it like you’ve got a pair,” He demanded. “I’m dead. There was an accident, and a fire, and I didn’t survive,” I spoke each word as if I were learning the information as I was explaining it. “So is this what, a weigh station for my next life?” Al laughed, “No, you lived your life, your one shot. Was it everything you wanted?” “No, not by a long shot. So if I don’t go on, is this heaven?” He shook his head, “Nope. You my friend are in hell, and me? I’m the Devil, Satan, Lucifer, so on and so on.” “Al Pachino isn’t even dead yet… wait, why the fuck am I in hell?” I yelled as my emotions shifted from confused to angry. He sighed and snapped his fingers turning into the Robot Devil from futurama, “Is this better?” He snapped again and flashed over to a more standard, red pitchfork wielding redheaded woman. “How about this?” “Fine, you’re the Devil, I’m in hell, the question is why?” “You didn’t believe in anything. None of the religions are right, but you didn’t believe in any of them, or anything. You didn’t have to believe in the dogma of the religion, but Bill wanted you to believe in him.” “Fuck, so I’m stuck here, for an eternity? Where is Hitler, Stalin, Bea Arthur? Why is it so empty in here? Wait, Bill?” I shook my head in disbelief. “Yeah, god’s name is Bill. The reason it’s empty in here is because if you believe in Bill you take the express lane over there, straight to whatever version of heaven you can imagine.” “So, Bill sent me to hell because I didn’t believe in him. That sounds a little spiteful, right? What are you in for?” “You’re familiar with the gatekeeper?” The beautiful woman asked. “Dana from Ghostbusters, Sigourney Weaver?” I asked. The woman faded into Zuul then jumped off the stage to stand in front of me and in that voice asked, “Are you a god?” Instantly she began to laugh. I laughed just as hard and then said, “Ray, when someone asks if you’re a god, you say yes!” I slapped her on the shoulder and laughed some more. Zuul faded into a man with a long flowing white beard holding a scroll and quill pen, in front of us on the stage gates began to form from the shadows. “I was thinking more like Saint Peter. That’s more or less who I am. I am the gatekeeper between the world you came from and the afterlife. “ “Does everyone get in?” I asked. “Most, but there are a few who don’t feel they’re ready, or some that are so paranoid they expect it to be a test. So they just sit here praying silently to themselves.” I glanced around the bar and said, “But we’re alone.” “Are we?” The old man shifted back into the form of Al Pachino and ascended back to his bar stool perch on the stage. With a wave of his hand, suddenly the bar was filled with people from all different walks of life. The bar now had a young topless woman. her arms tattooed in full sleeves behind the counter drinking liquid in and spiting it out across an open flame, a bright orange fireball passed over the bar. The people sitting on stools ducked and instinctively before sitting back up. Another table had nuns praying the rosary, next to them another group of Hasidic Jews murmured among themselves keeping nearly silent vigil. There were men in suits wandering toward me, and women in every manner of outfit from short black dress to full length ball gown. I turned back to Al and when I did the noises died down all around me as the people vanished. Al looked down at me as I looked up at him and he played a short riff on the glimmering harmonica, and when he finished he said, “Do you recognized Bill to be your creator, and responsible for all that you are?” “If I did, that would mean I didn’t believe in free will. I can’t do that, I’m every bit as responsible for who I am as some absentee father figure. So no, I can’t say that.” “You do realize that you’ll be banished to this place for all eternity right?” I smiled and said, “Bring back the people, and lets get this party started. Do you take requests? How about The Devil Went Down to Georgia?” “Not that fucking song, do you think I could be beaten in a contest? I’ve been doing this for eons you think Charlie Daniels with fifty years of practice is going to beat me? Fuck that guy.”	'It's not your fault everyone left, buddy' I sighed, this was definitely starting to get.... awkward. 'Everyone hates me! I can't do anything right it's just SO unfair!!!' 'Just because everyone left you, literally climbing over each other to leave does not mean it was because of you'. Convincing the Devil he was a nice guy at heart is not really how I expected this Sunday to go. 'Lucy, this happens every year when the people start escaping again.' I was beginning to plead, 'Let's just go out, maybe watch a few episodes of Supernatural and you'll be happy again'. 'The writers of fucking Supernatural hate me aswell!' 'Yeh but the fan girls on Tumblr love you' 'Fuck off, Dave'
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	The soft tones of the ancient wind instrument trailed off as the Lord of Hell finally acknowledged my presence in his domain “You…play the harmonica?” I asked, still trying to wrap my head around the features that now surrounded me. He set his harmonica down on a nearby table that was formed out of pumice, and had small trails of lava pouring out of holes in the sides quite artistically. He adjusted his position on the stool he sat upon to regard me, his amber eyes seeming to pierce right through to my soul…if I still had one. “Indeed. This particular specimen is one of the first mass-produced examples of the modern day instrument you may be familiar with. I took it from the inventor as he came through my doors. “ Satan paused for a moment, “He left it to me when he decided to ascend, it was quite unfortunate that such a gracious man ended up in my custody.” He stood up and walked over to me, placing his hand upon my shoulder . Standing over 7 feet tall and powerfully built, he was as physically imposing a figure as one would imagine the keeper of the underworld to be. “You’re free to ascend as well, human. A new judgement was passed some time ago, no longer is anyone to be enslaved against their will.” I took a step back from him, looking down I reflected on the events that brought me here. “I know. Saint Peter informed me that I was eligible for entry into heaven. I chose this place instead.” With a curious grunt, Lucifer turned around and approached a void in the wall. He waved his hand across it and, like a hologram, key events in my life flashed across the space. Scenes of battle and lust, bigotry and slander streamed endlessly like a video loop until he cast it away. He didn’t even turn to address me, “You seem to have committed no atrocities, no war crimes. A few petty misdeeds, and certainly things that would have led to your disgrace under the old system, but far from the worst I’ve seen.” I shook my head softly in agreement. “So,” Another pause as he turned to face me again, “What lead you to choose this place? You have no family down here, no friends, no lovers. They’re up there, “ he pointed towards the roof of the chamber we were in, “enjoying themselves. Awaiting you.” Another pause, and then softer, “Everyone’s up there nowadays.” It was at this time that I could finally regard him directly, “And when I was hungry, cold, and alone…I remember what that felt like. They never helped me, instead I was saved by a very kind man who had never known me before. He said that I should do the same thing whenever I was given the opportunity, but I never was able to do so. Until now.” The Devil’s gaze softened, and he sat down on the same stool that I had encountered him on. He motioned me to join him on a similar one. “It’s been a long time since I was enjoyed for my company. Tell me, what would you like to do?” Sitting next to him, I only had one request: “Tell me your story, from your side of things.”	'It's not your fault everyone left, buddy' I sighed, this was definitely starting to get.... awkward. 'Everyone hates me! I can't do anything right it's just SO unfair!!!' 'Just because everyone left you, literally climbing over each other to leave does not mean it was because of you'. Convincing the Devil he was a nice guy at heart is not really how I expected this Sunday to go. 'Lucy, this happens every year when the people start escaping again.' I was beginning to plead, 'Let's just go out, maybe watch a few episodes of Supernatural and you'll be happy again'. 'The writers of fucking Supernatural hate me aswell!' 'Yeh but the fan girls on Tumblr love you' 'Fuck off, Dave'
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	It sounds weird to think that to myself, but I was dead and now here I am. I was old when I died, lived a very good life, or at least it was entertaining. Oh, the things I've done, the places I visited, the girls I loved, I can remember them very well; too well in fact. Every small detail I forgot in my old age I could recall without problems now. Based on a lot of those details - if the priests were speaking the truth - I should be in hell right now. I looked around - it's a strange place. It must be the waiting room; too nice for hell, too empty for heaven... Actually, I would imagine too empty for hell too. Purgatory perhaps? Who lays purgatory with grass though? Right, "he" does. The weather's nice, sun(or whatever it's called in here) is shining through blossoming trees, it feels very comfortable for me. A brown gazebo stands not far away, beautiful music is coming out from it. I'll go check it out, not like I have anything better to do. As I'm walking towards it I notice there's someone sitting inside. A young man with long brown hair, tied into a knot. He's playing harmonica. Is it saint Peter? Or maybe Jesus himself? He's rather pretty, I think it's actually Jesus. First time in my life I'm star-struck. I approach slowly and sit on the bench on the opposite side of gazebo. I got so occupied with choosing the right place to sit I forgot to pay attention to what's happening. The man has stopped playing and is looking at me in shock. Have I already done something wrong? Was I supposed to bring my own instrument and play something? -"What are you doing here?"- asked the man. What a stupid question, I think he's supposed to know. Is the beaurocracy in here as bad as it's 'down there'? -"I have died and now I'm here."- I answered quite honestly, I thought. -"Why aren't you with the rest of your people?" -"How am I supposed to know, I just got here."- I started to believe this man is not saint Peter or Jesus at all. Weren't they supposed to know this stuff? -"Weren't you supposed to know this?" -"Who do you think I am?" -"I don't know, saint Peter?" - I didn't go for the Jesus, obviously a son of a god would know why I'm here. -"My name's Lucifer." -"Satan? The satan? So where are we?" -"Hell, obviously." -"This..." -" ...doesn't look like hell." - he interrupted my sentence. I looked at him for a while, anticipating when everything around me will burst in flames. I figured the grass and overall pleasant surroundings were just a ruse, like a one last false hope, twisted form of torture. He continued talking - "I used to get that a lot. None of you thought this could be hell." -"So what now?" -"Oh that's right, you still think I'm here to torment you. I have to explain this every damn time. We're in this here together. I'm stuck here just as much as you are. I don't care about torturing you." -"What?" -"Hell is a place where there is no God. That's it. Other than that it's quite cozy for you - people. It's like your world, and you get to live forever, without hunger or pain. You just don't get to feel his presence, which isn't any different from your previous life. For angels who were at his side before it's a terrible fate. " -"So that's it? I just get to sit here forever? " -"Well you could always go to heaven to see his glory and enjoy eternity for what it truly could be." -"So what do I have to do?" -"I'm stuck here. I'll always be here. No matter what I do I'll never feel his warmth again. Take pity on the devil, stranger, for all I know is misery." -"And that's it?" -"Can you see anyone else here?" Minutes passed and we just sat there. He was pretty good with the harmonica, I wonder what he could do with a fiddle. After an hour he produced another harmonica out of thin air and handed it to me - "Do you know how to play it? Go ahead, take it. I'll teach you, my friend." As soon as I took it, a blinding light started shining from behind him. White wings were hard to miss, those must be angels. They came to take me to heaven, I thought to myself - a bit late, but I guess I can't be unhappy about it in the grand scheme of things. Then the weirdest thing happened - they didn't grab me. They grabbed the fucking devil and disappeared. I couldn't take pity on him no matter how hard I tried, after all I learned. He pitied me. Might as well learn how to play the harmonica.	'It's not your fault everyone left, buddy' I sighed, this was definitely starting to get.... awkward. 'Everyone hates me! I can't do anything right it's just SO unfair!!!' 'Just because everyone left you, literally climbing over each other to leave does not mean it was because of you'. Convincing the Devil he was a nice guy at heart is not really how I expected this Sunday to go. 'Lucy, this happens every year when the people start escaping again.' I was beginning to plead, 'Let's just go out, maybe watch a few episodes of Supernatural and you'll be happy again'. 'The writers of fucking Supernatural hate me aswell!' 'Yeh but the fan girls on Tumblr love you' 'Fuck off, Dave'
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	For a while, there had been silence. Have you ever been on a ride at an amusement park that goes at once from a high speed to a complete stop, or been in a car accident and found yourself thrown against the seat-belt? That is precisely what it felt like when Elliot went to Hell: like he had been going very fast and had suddenly stopped. (And maybe, he would later consider, that was a half-decent summary of death.) As if launched upward from a terrible nightmare, he jolted into being, gasping for breath he had not been deprived of. The air smelled like a hospital someone had been smoking in, a tainted sterility. Once his vision pulled into focus, he found himself in what looked like a waiting room. To what, he wasn't sure, for it certainly wasn't clean enough to be a hospital, and come to think of it. . . There was no one else waiting. There was no quiet murmur of life. All he could hear was what sounded an awful lot like a harmonica. At a cursory search for any staff behind the desk, Elliot found only him. Satan, who was by all means looking terribly bored, was sitting on the intake desk playing the harmonica. This answered one question and gave way to another hundred. The first to come to mind crawled up Elliot's throat before he had time to think about it: "What the hell?" It became clear then that the devil had not actually seen him until that moment. His eyes flickered up from the spot they had been lazily fixed on, like two great fireballs somehow confined within his eye sockets. It took a moment of squinting for him to open his mouth, baring shark-like teeth. First was a sigh. Then, Satan flatly stated, "I assume that was supposed to be a joke." For all the awful feelings in the world, Satan himself being so clearly unimpressed at Elliot was definitely crawling up the list of the worst. Further up on the list was his mounting fear. "No," he forced out after a moment of trying not to stammer. "No - I just. . ." His head reeled and he took a few seconds to gather himself. One deep breath in, one shuddering huff out. When he spoke again, he was quieter. "I'm dead. I'm dead and you're -" "Yes, I am he," Satan answered tiredly. "The Devil. Father of lies. Evil itself. Lucifer. Whatever name you choose, this is who stands. . ." He seemed to reevaluate his statement, and slipped off the desk to stand before Elliot before continuing, "Who stands before you." Standing, Satan wasn't more than a foot taller than Elliot, but it felt like he towered nonetheless. Yet there was something about him that seemed off. He didn't reek of ego or pride the way he probably should have. If anything, he seemed. . . Was 'sad' the right word? Elliot considered it as he took a cautious glance around. "This is Hell, isn't it? Where, uh - where is everyone?" "They're in Heaven." "What?" That didn't make sense. Surely not everyone else who had ever died would be in Heaven. "You're not telling me that I'm the only person who's ever gone to Hell. That's ridiculous." "Oh, no," Satan answered, starting to pace a slow circle around Elliot. "I'm not telling you that. You're simply the only person who has ever stayed. And even that remains to be seen." This only worsened the confusion that Elliot felt about this whole thing, but he was trying to understand. It was made somewhat more difficult by the fact that he was also trying to keep an eye on Satan, and this had caused him to turn slowly in place as the devil circled him. "I don't understand. I thought people stayed in Hell, like. Forever." When Satan laughed, it was an exhausted laugh, but it still drove a cold spike into Elliot's heart. "Ah, so did we. Suppose I ought to read my contracts better. Regardless, I've no interest in giving you a history lesson. Hell is by all means a dead kingdom. Go on," he said, stopping his pacing and giving a grandiose gesture to the doors at the far end of the room. "Into the hall, the last doors on your right. Heaven lies beyond." This was far too easy. "You're not going to torture me?" "My torturers quit, actually. And I'm not in the business, personally." "So there's no one here but you?" "No," Satan snapped. "There's not. Are you going to keep questioning me, or are you going to leave? I assure you, you won't get bored up there. Have your fun." He began to pace back toward the desk, and in that moment, Elliot caught himself feeling the slightest bit bad for the devil. Liar or otherwise, it did look like he was completely alone here. Everyone had abandoned Hell for greener pastures, and to him, it didn't even look much like Hell anymore. It was simply a drab building, perhaps a little warm and a little musty, with a harmonica and Satan and a chess set. His eyes locked on that. Elliot had always loved a challenge. "Wait," he called out, and received a cool glance in response. A quirked eyebrow. "Do you actually want me to go?" There was a pause. Satan turned back, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the desk. "Not particularly. But I have no means of stopping you, and it's best not to delay the inevitable." It took a moment of mustering his courage, but Elliot walked over to the desk. He didn't stand too close, but instead tapped the chessboard lightly. "Inevitable is a strong word," he said, and prided himself on how collected he sounded. "Just humour me for a second. You play?" "You're surprised?" "Not really. Listen. . . Fuck it, let's make a deal. One game. No cheating. If I win, I'll go to Heaven, and that's that. If you win, I'll stay here. You can do whatever you want with me. Even if that means taking up torture again." This was, perhaps, the stupidest thing Elliot had ever done, just short of dying. He hardly knew why he was doing it. There had just been something about the image of Satan himself in a barren, empty Hell, playing the harmonica. . . It was just wrong. And Elliot was pretty good at chess. Slowly but surely, Satan strolled his way. He leaned on the desk, his lithe form twisting in a strange way to accommodate for the odd height difference. And then, in a terrifying if almost charming way, he grinned. With one long finger, he pushed a few misplaced pieces back into their starting locations. "You do know you just made a deal with the Devil," he said casually, his eyes burning into Elliot's. Elliot forced himself to look away and focus on the board, where he was already planning his first move. After a second, he let out a surprisingly genuine, short laugh. "Yeah. I guess I did."	Blackness... Nothing... The bleak tones of a mouth organ wailed through the air, echoing around a chamber of black marble which was polished so brilliantly that the reflections of tiny flickering flames danced around the room like a troupe of sunset clad ballet dancers. They to'ed and fro'ed, they leapt and soared, providing a dim glow to the otherwise pitch black expanse of the chamber. The source of these flickers was a lonely fire no bigger than one I would have built myself when camping alone, or in the twilight hours of a fishing trip if I had managed to catch a trout to keep my growling stomach company as I waited for the stars above to creep from behind the daylight. Beside the fire sat a hunched figure, who proved to be the source of the melancholic crooning that was reverberating throughout the chamber, echoing as if a choir of sadistic angels. I felt drawn to him. For it was a him. Although it was not human. From the waist down the creature sported thick, matted hair, which clad his powerful legs all the way down to the ankle. From the ankle, powerful hooves protruded, each as smooth and black as the room in which I found myself. I approached the figure and called out to him. My body felt as if I was screaming, however the words came out in a feeble croak, the fear in my soul dragging them back into my knotted stomach. "Who are you?" The ensemble continued, unwavering and unfaltered. "Who are you?" I repeated. No reply. The harmonica glistening in the firelight, gliding between the figures cracked blue lips. "Who ar..." "He won't answer!" Came a shrill voice, "He never answers.". I whirled around, seeking the source of the voice, however it echoed around the room just as the mouth organ did. It sounded as if it was coming from everywhere. And nowhere. "We can offer you steak. And fresh wine. There will be no pain, and you will be the lord of your own kingdom." continued the voice. "You can fish our rivers, walk in our valleys, play in our streams". "But you will be alone. There are no people here. Not any more. No family, no friends. No others. Just the animals and plants, and the sun and the sky. Just the stars at night and the light of the moon. Your language will fade and you will never hear the sound of laughter ringing through the air again. You will never know love. You will never be comforted. You will be alone. Eventually your soul will fade, shrinking disheveled into your heart and you will cease to be human. Time will take you. You will become a part of your kingdom for all eternity an animal roaming the lands as any other. Then it will not be your kingdom. For he will always be king. These are his lands..." my eyes snapped back to the creature. "This is hell." The fire rose up, unfurling to head height. It was alive. Flames leapt from the human like figure and singed the air I was so rapidly breathing. "Do you accept?" The figure crowed. "What choice do I have?" I trembled. "Every choice. You can choose to stay here, or repent for your earthly sins and be transported to heaven. But know this, you must truly repent, or you risk sealing your fate here to fade to nothing, a figure of his eternal torment." "Then I chose to repent! I cannot chose this way, who could?!?" "There have been a few throughout the ages. They have faded now." "Not I, I repent." I pleaded. "So be it!" The flaming figure cried, diving forwards and engulfing me in a tight grasp. My skin burned white hot, my hair singed and my flesh melting away in agony. We shot upwards, a plume of smoke billowing from beneath our feet, the ceiling of the chamber fast approaching, all the while the figure's searing fingers clawing at my face an neck. Never slowing, we crashed through the ceiling. Blackness... Nothing... I awoke to a searing pain which scorched over my whole body. The chamber was white this time. Brilliant white. As though I was standing in a room of nothing. "You should have stayed!" A voice boomed. I held up a hand, shielding the dazzling white light. A majestic figure approached, on horseback. He was old. Not that he appeared old. He bore no wrinkles, and his hair was flowing and black. Thick muscles adorned his chest and neck, and his thick thighs sat atop his golden steed. But his eyes. Deep pools of memory that gazed from behind sunken sockets. Dark galaxies, all seeing, all knowing, all powerful. "My lands have become plagued by the likes of you. I will have lucifer's head for this. He should know better than allow the likes of you into my kingdom!". His voice pierced my very being, intensifying the pain, knocking the breath out of my lungs. Panting for breath, I summoned the courage. "Forgive me. I beg you!" I whimpered. He threw back his head, roaring with laughter. "Forgive you?!? What good would that do. You are in heaven now. My kingdom. Wether I forgive you means nothing." "You should have stayed where you belong!" The man boomed. "No matter, you will see for yourself soon enough!". He clapped his enormous hands together and the whole room quaked. Gilded doors swung open on the other end of the chamber, and I sprinted out of the room. Eager to escape the overbearing presence of the old man. A scene of horror emerged as my eyes adjusted. Screams of terror and the acrid flavour of smoke filled the air. The city below burned. A woman dashed from behind a blazing cabin followed by a stream of melted figures, scarred flesh bubbling and raw, bounding after her with hunger and malice in their eyes. She was fast, however she could not have seen the root of the shrivelled tree which grasped at her ankles, dragging her to the ashen ground. Her blonde locks fell over her face, covering her bruised cheeks and bleeding lip. They were on top of her. Pinning her to the ground, hungrily tearing at her clothes, lashing her with branches torn from trees and biting at her with gnawing, sharpened teeth. Their fingernails gouging into the flesh in which they were grasping and bringing forth fountains of blood. "What hell is this...?" I gasped. "It is heaven." Boomed the voice from within the chamber behind me. "A heaven which has swung open its doors who all that wish to come here. A heaven that has been pillaged by the murderers, rapists and thieves which the world so brutally creates. "What are those things... those monsters?". The words left my mouth, but in myself I had already answered my own question. "They are the evil ones." The man replied, exiting the room to stand by my side. "The ones who do not belong". I glanced at my reflection in his golden saddle. My stomach churned and I tasted bile. Shredded and torn. Burnt and disfigured. Hairless and naked. Shiny white scars wrapped around my entire body like vines. An evil mark of the torment I had to endure to gain entry into heaven. My eyes stared out of my skull from lidless sockets, my face melted like wax. It appeared as if my skin was dripping. I was a monster. "They had a choice, as did you. Now you must face the consequences of your choices". I fell back, in shock. So much shock that I did not feel my body hit the ground. It felt as if I was falling. Eternally falling. I covered my eyes with my decrepit hands. Blackness... Nothing... "CLEAR!" A shock ran through my entire system, spanning to my fingers and toes. My chest leapt into the air. I landed on the gurney with a thud. White lights all around me, the acrid out of the smoke still fresh in my nostrils. I tried to open my eyes but find them already open. I look down at myself. Shredded and torn. Burnt and disfigured. Hairless and naked. Shiny white scars wrapped around my entire body like vines. "You were in a fire" a voice above me says. "We resuscitated you, you are alive, you will survive." I later learned that I was clinically dead for one minute and six and 2/3 seconds. The doctors thought I was dead but decided to give the defibrillator one more shot. One more chance... I know the choices I must make now.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	I died screaming. That kind of happens when a 300lb hell cat was eating your face. But I woke up so it was a little anticlimactic. I always thought I'd be awed by what I saw on the other side, but nah the last couple years of apocalypse level jackassery beat it out of me. The landscape was a ruin of burnt trees and blackened ground. Not a shit ton different than earth. The sound of a harmonica whispered through the still air. It could have been blues, or it could have been hill billy rock. I didn't listen to either. I strolled through the barren landscape. It didn't look like there was much worry about, no people, no demons. No all the demons were on Earth, wrecking havoc and eating peoples faces. The people were, well, they weren't in hell. I followed the music to a man sitting on a stump beside a fire. I didn't think it was cold enough for a fire but it was hell so I didn't know shit. He also sucked at the harmonica. “Dude, could you not?” The man stopped playing and looked up at me. “You don't have to stay. Door out is that way.” Lo and behold there was a actual door ringed in blue fire and emitting a bright warming light. I was drawn to it like a moth to flame, but I like to make bad decisions so I stayed. “Why are you still here?” “I can't get out. I'm here for eternity.” He put down the harmonica and poked at the fire. “They found a loophole. Too much torture, too much anger, too many lawyers. They found a way out. Everything left. The souls went to heaven. The demons…” “Went to earth. It kind of fucked us too.” The devil looked a little sheepish. “I noticed.” A scream cut through the air and a body fell through the air and splattered across the burnt ground. I wondered if I arrived the same way. “Gross,” I commented. Satan shrugged. The mass quickly reformed into a man. He scrambled to his feet and ran for the bright door without even looking at us. Gotta say, he had a good idea. ”That happen a lot?” “Yep.” “Dude, you gotta stop torturing yourself. That can't be good for you.” He glared at me with flame sparked eyes. “We are in hell.” “Yeah, but you don't gotta sulk. Don't you have a castle around here or something?” He stood up growing taller and larger by the moment. “I am the Prince of Darkness, Lord of the Flies, I can make anything I should need.” I had to admit I was impressed, but really, hellcat to the face ruined me for all the other monsters. “Well, right now, Prince, I'm your only subject. So, ya know, chill.” The devil deflated and looked around. He looked sad and completely lost. “Come on, bro. Let's go to your castle and I'll show you how to make a sandwich. You could probably use a hot cocoa too.” Satan sighed. He stomped out the fire. “Yeah, alright. I don't have anything better to do.” I clapped him on the back. He'll wasn’t going to be that bad. “Oh, yeah, toss the harmonica. You gotta get a guitar if you want anyone to respect you."	Blackness... Nothing... The bleak tones of a mouth organ wailed through the air, echoing around a chamber of black marble which was polished so brilliantly that the reflections of tiny flickering flames danced around the room like a troupe of sunset clad ballet dancers. They to'ed and fro'ed, they leapt and soared, providing a dim glow to the otherwise pitch black expanse of the chamber. The source of these flickers was a lonely fire no bigger than one I would have built myself when camping alone, or in the twilight hours of a fishing trip if I had managed to catch a trout to keep my growling stomach company as I waited for the stars above to creep from behind the daylight. Beside the fire sat a hunched figure, who proved to be the source of the melancholic crooning that was reverberating throughout the chamber, echoing as if a choir of sadistic angels. I felt drawn to him. For it was a him. Although it was not human. From the waist down the creature sported thick, matted hair, which clad his powerful legs all the way down to the ankle. From the ankle, powerful hooves protruded, each as smooth and black as the room in which I found myself. I approached the figure and called out to him. My body felt as if I was screaming, however the words came out in a feeble croak, the fear in my soul dragging them back into my knotted stomach. "Who are you?" The ensemble continued, unwavering and unfaltered. "Who are you?" I repeated. No reply. The harmonica glistening in the firelight, gliding between the figures cracked blue lips. "Who ar..." "He won't answer!" Came a shrill voice, "He never answers.". I whirled around, seeking the source of the voice, however it echoed around the room just as the mouth organ did. It sounded as if it was coming from everywhere. And nowhere. "We can offer you steak. And fresh wine. There will be no pain, and you will be the lord of your own kingdom." continued the voice. "You can fish our rivers, walk in our valleys, play in our streams". "But you will be alone. There are no people here. Not any more. No family, no friends. No others. Just the animals and plants, and the sun and the sky. Just the stars at night and the light of the moon. Your language will fade and you will never hear the sound of laughter ringing through the air again. You will never know love. You will never be comforted. You will be alone. Eventually your soul will fade, shrinking disheveled into your heart and you will cease to be human. Time will take you. You will become a part of your kingdom for all eternity an animal roaming the lands as any other. Then it will not be your kingdom. For he will always be king. These are his lands..." my eyes snapped back to the creature. "This is hell." The fire rose up, unfurling to head height. It was alive. Flames leapt from the human like figure and singed the air I was so rapidly breathing. "Do you accept?" The figure crowed. "What choice do I have?" I trembled. "Every choice. You can choose to stay here, or repent for your earthly sins and be transported to heaven. But know this, you must truly repent, or you risk sealing your fate here to fade to nothing, a figure of his eternal torment." "Then I chose to repent! I cannot chose this way, who could?!?" "There have been a few throughout the ages. They have faded now." "Not I, I repent." I pleaded. "So be it!" The flaming figure cried, diving forwards and engulfing me in a tight grasp. My skin burned white hot, my hair singed and my flesh melting away in agony. We shot upwards, a plume of smoke billowing from beneath our feet, the ceiling of the chamber fast approaching, all the while the figure's searing fingers clawing at my face an neck. Never slowing, we crashed through the ceiling. Blackness... Nothing... I awoke to a searing pain which scorched over my whole body. The chamber was white this time. Brilliant white. As though I was standing in a room of nothing. "You should have stayed!" A voice boomed. I held up a hand, shielding the dazzling white light. A majestic figure approached, on horseback. He was old. Not that he appeared old. He bore no wrinkles, and his hair was flowing and black. Thick muscles adorned his chest and neck, and his thick thighs sat atop his golden steed. But his eyes. Deep pools of memory that gazed from behind sunken sockets. Dark galaxies, all seeing, all knowing, all powerful. "My lands have become plagued by the likes of you. I will have lucifer's head for this. He should know better than allow the likes of you into my kingdom!". His voice pierced my very being, intensifying the pain, knocking the breath out of my lungs. Panting for breath, I summoned the courage. "Forgive me. I beg you!" I whimpered. He threw back his head, roaring with laughter. "Forgive you?!? What good would that do. You are in heaven now. My kingdom. Wether I forgive you means nothing." "You should have stayed where you belong!" The man boomed. "No matter, you will see for yourself soon enough!". He clapped his enormous hands together and the whole room quaked. Gilded doors swung open on the other end of the chamber, and I sprinted out of the room. Eager to escape the overbearing presence of the old man. A scene of horror emerged as my eyes adjusted. Screams of terror and the acrid flavour of smoke filled the air. The city below burned. A woman dashed from behind a blazing cabin followed by a stream of melted figures, scarred flesh bubbling and raw, bounding after her with hunger and malice in their eyes. She was fast, however she could not have seen the root of the shrivelled tree which grasped at her ankles, dragging her to the ashen ground. Her blonde locks fell over her face, covering her bruised cheeks and bleeding lip. They were on top of her. Pinning her to the ground, hungrily tearing at her clothes, lashing her with branches torn from trees and biting at her with gnawing, sharpened teeth. Their fingernails gouging into the flesh in which they were grasping and bringing forth fountains of blood. "What hell is this...?" I gasped. "It is heaven." Boomed the voice from within the chamber behind me. "A heaven which has swung open its doors who all that wish to come here. A heaven that has been pillaged by the murderers, rapists and thieves which the world so brutally creates. "What are those things... those monsters?". The words left my mouth, but in myself I had already answered my own question. "They are the evil ones." The man replied, exiting the room to stand by my side. "The ones who do not belong". I glanced at my reflection in his golden saddle. My stomach churned and I tasted bile. Shredded and torn. Burnt and disfigured. Hairless and naked. Shiny white scars wrapped around my entire body like vines. An evil mark of the torment I had to endure to gain entry into heaven. My eyes stared out of my skull from lidless sockets, my face melted like wax. It appeared as if my skin was dripping. I was a monster. "They had a choice, as did you. Now you must face the consequences of your choices". I fell back, in shock. So much shock that I did not feel my body hit the ground. It felt as if I was falling. Eternally falling. I covered my eyes with my decrepit hands. Blackness... Nothing... "CLEAR!" A shock ran through my entire system, spanning to my fingers and toes. My chest leapt into the air. I landed on the gurney with a thud. White lights all around me, the acrid out of the smoke still fresh in my nostrils. I tried to open my eyes but find them already open. I look down at myself. Shredded and torn. Burnt and disfigured. Hairless and naked. Shiny white scars wrapped around my entire body like vines. "You were in a fire" a voice above me says. "We resuscitated you, you are alive, you will survive." I later learned that I was clinically dead for one minute and six and 2/3 seconds. The doctors thought I was dead but decided to give the defibrillator one more shot. One more chance... I know the choices I must make now.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	>Oh God damnit! I spun around confused. Just moments earlier I'd been walking down the street, and now I was in a cold, dark, lifeless...abyss. Before me was terror incarnate. Black horns over a foot long sprung from the stranger's red face. Well, red everything. This had to be Satan. The giant figure sighed, sat down a harmonica, and stood. >Just when I finally...sigh...welcome to Hell, darkness and everlasting torment...whatever. I am the dark one, Satan. Not knowing what to say I offered a meager head nod. Should I bow? >No, don't bow. Just prepare yourself for pain and terror for the rest of eternity. I felt myself starting to panic, looking around for escape or help. The realization hit me I'm all alone with the most evil creature ever brought into creation. And apparently the bastard can read my thoughts. Wait, why am I alone with...it? Where is everyone? >Yes, that's right. It's just you and me. And I will make you suffer. But before we begin I must warn you. Whatever you do, DO NOT go through the door marked exit. An exit? In Hell? Should I try... >Oh no, don't, stop, I'm warning you. Without thinking another moment I sprinted towards the door. Satan didn't even give chase. As I pulled the door open a blinding, white light sprung through. >Oh no, another one got away. Well, guess I'll just enjoy a little peace and quiet. As the door shut behind me all I could hear was stilted harmonica music interspersed with booming laughter.	Blackness... Nothing... The bleak tones of a mouth organ wailed through the air, echoing around a chamber of black marble which was polished so brilliantly that the reflections of tiny flickering flames danced around the room like a troupe of sunset clad ballet dancers. They to'ed and fro'ed, they leapt and soared, providing a dim glow to the otherwise pitch black expanse of the chamber. The source of these flickers was a lonely fire no bigger than one I would have built myself when camping alone, or in the twilight hours of a fishing trip if I had managed to catch a trout to keep my growling stomach company as I waited for the stars above to creep from behind the daylight. Beside the fire sat a hunched figure, who proved to be the source of the melancholic crooning that was reverberating throughout the chamber, echoing as if a choir of sadistic angels. I felt drawn to him. For it was a him. Although it was not human. From the waist down the creature sported thick, matted hair, which clad his powerful legs all the way down to the ankle. From the ankle, powerful hooves protruded, each as smooth and black as the room in which I found myself. I approached the figure and called out to him. My body felt as if I was screaming, however the words came out in a feeble croak, the fear in my soul dragging them back into my knotted stomach. "Who are you?" The ensemble continued, unwavering and unfaltered. "Who are you?" I repeated. No reply. The harmonica glistening in the firelight, gliding between the figures cracked blue lips. "Who ar..." "He won't answer!" Came a shrill voice, "He never answers.". I whirled around, seeking the source of the voice, however it echoed around the room just as the mouth organ did. It sounded as if it was coming from everywhere. And nowhere. "We can offer you steak. And fresh wine. There will be no pain, and you will be the lord of your own kingdom." continued the voice. "You can fish our rivers, walk in our valleys, play in our streams". "But you will be alone. There are no people here. Not any more. No family, no friends. No others. Just the animals and plants, and the sun and the sky. Just the stars at night and the light of the moon. Your language will fade and you will never hear the sound of laughter ringing through the air again. You will never know love. You will never be comforted. You will be alone. Eventually your soul will fade, shrinking disheveled into your heart and you will cease to be human. Time will take you. You will become a part of your kingdom for all eternity an animal roaming the lands as any other. Then it will not be your kingdom. For he will always be king. These are his lands..." my eyes snapped back to the creature. "This is hell." The fire rose up, unfurling to head height. It was alive. Flames leapt from the human like figure and singed the air I was so rapidly breathing. "Do you accept?" The figure crowed. "What choice do I have?" I trembled. "Every choice. You can choose to stay here, or repent for your earthly sins and be transported to heaven. But know this, you must truly repent, or you risk sealing your fate here to fade to nothing, a figure of his eternal torment." "Then I chose to repent! I cannot chose this way, who could?!?" "There have been a few throughout the ages. They have faded now." "Not I, I repent." I pleaded. "So be it!" The flaming figure cried, diving forwards and engulfing me in a tight grasp. My skin burned white hot, my hair singed and my flesh melting away in agony. We shot upwards, a plume of smoke billowing from beneath our feet, the ceiling of the chamber fast approaching, all the while the figure's searing fingers clawing at my face an neck. Never slowing, we crashed through the ceiling. Blackness... Nothing... I awoke to a searing pain which scorched over my whole body. The chamber was white this time. Brilliant white. As though I was standing in a room of nothing. "You should have stayed!" A voice boomed. I held up a hand, shielding the dazzling white light. A majestic figure approached, on horseback. He was old. Not that he appeared old. He bore no wrinkles, and his hair was flowing and black. Thick muscles adorned his chest and neck, and his thick thighs sat atop his golden steed. But his eyes. Deep pools of memory that gazed from behind sunken sockets. Dark galaxies, all seeing, all knowing, all powerful. "My lands have become plagued by the likes of you. I will have lucifer's head for this. He should know better than allow the likes of you into my kingdom!". His voice pierced my very being, intensifying the pain, knocking the breath out of my lungs. Panting for breath, I summoned the courage. "Forgive me. I beg you!" I whimpered. He threw back his head, roaring with laughter. "Forgive you?!? What good would that do. You are in heaven now. My kingdom. Wether I forgive you means nothing." "You should have stayed where you belong!" The man boomed. "No matter, you will see for yourself soon enough!". He clapped his enormous hands together and the whole room quaked. Gilded doors swung open on the other end of the chamber, and I sprinted out of the room. Eager to escape the overbearing presence of the old man. A scene of horror emerged as my eyes adjusted. Screams of terror and the acrid flavour of smoke filled the air. The city below burned. A woman dashed from behind a blazing cabin followed by a stream of melted figures, scarred flesh bubbling and raw, bounding after her with hunger and malice in their eyes. She was fast, however she could not have seen the root of the shrivelled tree which grasped at her ankles, dragging her to the ashen ground. Her blonde locks fell over her face, covering her bruised cheeks and bleeding lip. They were on top of her. Pinning her to the ground, hungrily tearing at her clothes, lashing her with branches torn from trees and biting at her with gnawing, sharpened teeth. Their fingernails gouging into the flesh in which they were grasping and bringing forth fountains of blood. "What hell is this...?" I gasped. "It is heaven." Boomed the voice from within the chamber behind me. "A heaven which has swung open its doors who all that wish to come here. A heaven that has been pillaged by the murderers, rapists and thieves which the world so brutally creates. "What are those things... those monsters?". The words left my mouth, but in myself I had already answered my own question. "They are the evil ones." The man replied, exiting the room to stand by my side. "The ones who do not belong". I glanced at my reflection in his golden saddle. My stomach churned and I tasted bile. Shredded and torn. Burnt and disfigured. Hairless and naked. Shiny white scars wrapped around my entire body like vines. An evil mark of the torment I had to endure to gain entry into heaven. My eyes stared out of my skull from lidless sockets, my face melted like wax. It appeared as if my skin was dripping. I was a monster. "They had a choice, as did you. Now you must face the consequences of your choices". I fell back, in shock. So much shock that I did not feel my body hit the ground. It felt as if I was falling. Eternally falling. I covered my eyes with my decrepit hands. Blackness... Nothing... "CLEAR!" A shock ran through my entire system, spanning to my fingers and toes. My chest leapt into the air. I landed on the gurney with a thud. White lights all around me, the acrid out of the smoke still fresh in my nostrils. I tried to open my eyes but find them already open. I look down at myself. Shredded and torn. Burnt and disfigured. Hairless and naked. Shiny white scars wrapped around my entire body like vines. "You were in a fire" a voice above me says. "We resuscitated you, you are alive, you will survive." I later learned that I was clinically dead for one minute and six and 2/3 seconds. The doctors thought I was dead but decided to give the defibrillator one more shot. One more chance... I know the choices I must make now.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	"Hello?" I called out into a seemingly endless abyss. I heard a weepy wobbly minor chord play on a harmonica behind me. There, in front of my own two eyes was the lord of darkness himself, slouched back on a rocking chair playing the blues. I trembled in his presence but noticed he was unamused by me. "Um, hi." I said quietly. He spat what appeared to be lava into a spittoon that seemingly constituted itself. "What you want?" He said in a low charred voice. "Are you...the devil?" "You mean the ruler of the underworld, Diablo, king of the damned, foulest of the foul? "Yeah him." "That guy hasn't been around here for a while, looks like nobody needs him anymore. He's out of a job. It's just me, Rusty McJackoff." I could see that he was down on his luck, so I walked over to him and went down to one knee. "There's nobody here who wants to drown my blasphemous soul in lakes of fire?" I could see his eyes light up, literally, flames appeared in his eyes, but it was to no avail. "He's dead." Satan threw his harmonica yards into the distance and crossed his arms. "I bet he's here. He's just...out of practice." Satan narrowed his eyes and stuck his claw out at me, "You gonna leave like the rest of 'um?" I put my hands in my pockets and shrugged my shoulders, "Well, most of the people who I can't stand are in Heaven. And if I'm the only one here, maybe we can be friends for eternity." Satan disappeared in a cloud of smoke then reappeared in front of me, in a fine demonic suit and with a red pitch fork. "I still have to torture your soul, but we can hang out. I can promote you to demon if things go well." "I had a feeling you'd say that. Eh, that's fine." Satan looked at me and smiled, "Wow, you are a great guy, why did you even get sent here?" I sighed, "I'm gay and Jewish." Satan rolled his eyes, "You know that's bullshit. Let me check your sins...Wow, I'm impressed. Murder seems to be your favorite." "Eh, it's a living." I grin from ear to ear. We both high five. End.	Blackness... Nothing... The bleak tones of a mouth organ wailed through the air, echoing around a chamber of black marble which was polished so brilliantly that the reflections of tiny flickering flames danced around the room like a troupe of sunset clad ballet dancers. They to'ed and fro'ed, they leapt and soared, providing a dim glow to the otherwise pitch black expanse of the chamber. The source of these flickers was a lonely fire no bigger than one I would have built myself when camping alone, or in the twilight hours of a fishing trip if I had managed to catch a trout to keep my growling stomach company as I waited for the stars above to creep from behind the daylight. Beside the fire sat a hunched figure, who proved to be the source of the melancholic crooning that was reverberating throughout the chamber, echoing as if a choir of sadistic angels. I felt drawn to him. For it was a him. Although it was not human. From the waist down the creature sported thick, matted hair, which clad his powerful legs all the way down to the ankle. From the ankle, powerful hooves protruded, each as smooth and black as the room in which I found myself. I approached the figure and called out to him. My body felt as if I was screaming, however the words came out in a feeble croak, the fear in my soul dragging them back into my knotted stomach. "Who are you?" The ensemble continued, unwavering and unfaltered. "Who are you?" I repeated. No reply. The harmonica glistening in the firelight, gliding between the figures cracked blue lips. "Who ar..." "He won't answer!" Came a shrill voice, "He never answers.". I whirled around, seeking the source of the voice, however it echoed around the room just as the mouth organ did. It sounded as if it was coming from everywhere. And nowhere. "We can offer you steak. And fresh wine. There will be no pain, and you will be the lord of your own kingdom." continued the voice. "You can fish our rivers, walk in our valleys, play in our streams". "But you will be alone. There are no people here. Not any more. No family, no friends. No others. Just the animals and plants, and the sun and the sky. Just the stars at night and the light of the moon. Your language will fade and you will never hear the sound of laughter ringing through the air again. You will never know love. You will never be comforted. You will be alone. Eventually your soul will fade, shrinking disheveled into your heart and you will cease to be human. Time will take you. You will become a part of your kingdom for all eternity an animal roaming the lands as any other. Then it will not be your kingdom. For he will always be king. These are his lands..." my eyes snapped back to the creature. "This is hell." The fire rose up, unfurling to head height. It was alive. Flames leapt from the human like figure and singed the air I was so rapidly breathing. "Do you accept?" The figure crowed. "What choice do I have?" I trembled. "Every choice. You can choose to stay here, or repent for your earthly sins and be transported to heaven. But know this, you must truly repent, or you risk sealing your fate here to fade to nothing, a figure of his eternal torment." "Then I chose to repent! I cannot chose this way, who could?!?" "There have been a few throughout the ages. They have faded now." "Not I, I repent." I pleaded. "So be it!" The flaming figure cried, diving forwards and engulfing me in a tight grasp. My skin burned white hot, my hair singed and my flesh melting away in agony. We shot upwards, a plume of smoke billowing from beneath our feet, the ceiling of the chamber fast approaching, all the while the figure's searing fingers clawing at my face an neck. Never slowing, we crashed through the ceiling. Blackness... Nothing... I awoke to a searing pain which scorched over my whole body. The chamber was white this time. Brilliant white. As though I was standing in a room of nothing. "You should have stayed!" A voice boomed. I held up a hand, shielding the dazzling white light. A majestic figure approached, on horseback. He was old. Not that he appeared old. He bore no wrinkles, and his hair was flowing and black. Thick muscles adorned his chest and neck, and his thick thighs sat atop his golden steed. But his eyes. Deep pools of memory that gazed from behind sunken sockets. Dark galaxies, all seeing, all knowing, all powerful. "My lands have become plagued by the likes of you. I will have lucifer's head for this. He should know better than allow the likes of you into my kingdom!". His voice pierced my very being, intensifying the pain, knocking the breath out of my lungs. Panting for breath, I summoned the courage. "Forgive me. I beg you!" I whimpered. He threw back his head, roaring with laughter. "Forgive you?!? What good would that do. You are in heaven now. My kingdom. Wether I forgive you means nothing." "You should have stayed where you belong!" The man boomed. "No matter, you will see for yourself soon enough!". He clapped his enormous hands together and the whole room quaked. Gilded doors swung open on the other end of the chamber, and I sprinted out of the room. Eager to escape the overbearing presence of the old man. A scene of horror emerged as my eyes adjusted. Screams of terror and the acrid flavour of smoke filled the air. The city below burned. A woman dashed from behind a blazing cabin followed by a stream of melted figures, scarred flesh bubbling and raw, bounding after her with hunger and malice in their eyes. She was fast, however she could not have seen the root of the shrivelled tree which grasped at her ankles, dragging her to the ashen ground. Her blonde locks fell over her face, covering her bruised cheeks and bleeding lip. They were on top of her. Pinning her to the ground, hungrily tearing at her clothes, lashing her with branches torn from trees and biting at her with gnawing, sharpened teeth. Their fingernails gouging into the flesh in which they were grasping and bringing forth fountains of blood. "What hell is this...?" I gasped. "It is heaven." Boomed the voice from within the chamber behind me. "A heaven which has swung open its doors who all that wish to come here. A heaven that has been pillaged by the murderers, rapists and thieves which the world so brutally creates. "What are those things... those monsters?". The words left my mouth, but in myself I had already answered my own question. "They are the evil ones." The man replied, exiting the room to stand by my side. "The ones who do not belong". I glanced at my reflection in his golden saddle. My stomach churned and I tasted bile. Shredded and torn. Burnt and disfigured. Hairless and naked. Shiny white scars wrapped around my entire body like vines. An evil mark of the torment I had to endure to gain entry into heaven. My eyes stared out of my skull from lidless sockets, my face melted like wax. It appeared as if my skin was dripping. I was a monster. "They had a choice, as did you. Now you must face the consequences of your choices". I fell back, in shock. So much shock that I did not feel my body hit the ground. It felt as if I was falling. Eternally falling. I covered my eyes with my decrepit hands. Blackness... Nothing... "CLEAR!" A shock ran through my entire system, spanning to my fingers and toes. My chest leapt into the air. I landed on the gurney with a thud. White lights all around me, the acrid out of the smoke still fresh in my nostrils. I tried to open my eyes but find them already open. I look down at myself. Shredded and torn. Burnt and disfigured. Hairless and naked. Shiny white scars wrapped around my entire body like vines. "You were in a fire" a voice above me says. "We resuscitated you, you are alive, you will survive." I later learned that I was clinically dead for one minute and six and 2/3 seconds. The doctors thought I was dead but decided to give the defibrillator one more shot. One more chance... I know the choices I must make now.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	There were no screams when I entered Hell. I was shocked, having been raised in a Christian family, but there were no sounds of people being tortured, no crackling of the insane demons who resided in the pits of Hell. The only sound I was the sound of a harmonica, playing a very blues-esc tune. I did what was natural to a person in an unfamiliar landscape- I followed the sound. It walked for what felt like hours searching for the source of the music. Through lakes of fire and fields of brimstone I traveled before finally seeing who- or what- was playing the harmonica. I thought I was prepared for anything. I was not prepared to see Satan, the King of Babylon himself, playing the harmonica whilst looking miserable. He had noticed me almost immediately, and stopped playing. "Why are you still here?" He had asked, his voice filled with sadness and.. something else. Was it anger? Hatred? I couldn't tell. "What do you mean? This is Hell, where the sinners go for eternal damnation. I can't leave," I replied, staring at him. I quickly jumped back when I realized that I was having a civil conversation with the Evil One. Satan sighed, and the harmonica burned to a crisp, as though it were made out of paper. "You've noticed it, haven't you? The lack of screaming, the terrifying silence, the emptyness. People- and demons- have been leaving here, escaping their eternal punishment, all due to Him offering them salvation, even after thousands of years of sins and punishment. He updated his rules, just because of His son's return to Earth," he pauses, looking out over the fields formerly filled with scores of tortured souls. "So you are saying that I am free to go to Heaven, despite having committed the horrid crimes that I have?" He nods, looking at me. "You aren't even supposed to be in here for that. What you did was self defense. The suicide afterwards is what sent you here, but yes, mortal. You may leave. All you must do is pray towards Him. It will burn, but you will be immortalized in Heaven. No leave- I will be practicing my harmonica," at this point, he sounded downright miserable. I felt bad for the devil. I pitied Lucifer, and I shouldn't. I should fear him, but he sounds so broken. Millennia of watching over the worst people that the Earth has known, undone due to a change of God's Terms of Service. I made a decision that would define me for eternity. "I have a question for you, Abaddon," He looks at me, surprised at either being addressed directly by a mortal, or being called by his Hebrew name. "You play harmonica, but, according to an old bluegrass song, you played the fiddle. Is that true?" He laughed, grinning. "Well, seems like that old contest with Johnny is famous after all. I understand that you played the fiddle when you were among the mortal plane?" I nodded. "You could probably teach me a few things though. The question is, will you?" "Of course I will. Beware though- this training will put you through Hell," he laughed, crafting two violins out of the fire surrounding us. "It's a good thing that I'm already there then, right?" And then we played.	Blackness... Nothing... The bleak tones of a mouth organ wailed through the air, echoing around a chamber of black marble which was polished so brilliantly that the reflections of tiny flickering flames danced around the room like a troupe of sunset clad ballet dancers. They to'ed and fro'ed, they leapt and soared, providing a dim glow to the otherwise pitch black expanse of the chamber. The source of these flickers was a lonely fire no bigger than one I would have built myself when camping alone, or in the twilight hours of a fishing trip if I had managed to catch a trout to keep my growling stomach company as I waited for the stars above to creep from behind the daylight. Beside the fire sat a hunched figure, who proved to be the source of the melancholic crooning that was reverberating throughout the chamber, echoing as if a choir of sadistic angels. I felt drawn to him. For it was a him. Although it was not human. From the waist down the creature sported thick, matted hair, which clad his powerful legs all the way down to the ankle. From the ankle, powerful hooves protruded, each as smooth and black as the room in which I found myself. I approached the figure and called out to him. My body felt as if I was screaming, however the words came out in a feeble croak, the fear in my soul dragging them back into my knotted stomach. "Who are you?" The ensemble continued, unwavering and unfaltered. "Who are you?" I repeated. No reply. The harmonica glistening in the firelight, gliding between the figures cracked blue lips. "Who ar..." "He won't answer!" Came a shrill voice, "He never answers.". I whirled around, seeking the source of the voice, however it echoed around the room just as the mouth organ did. It sounded as if it was coming from everywhere. And nowhere. "We can offer you steak. And fresh wine. There will be no pain, and you will be the lord of your own kingdom." continued the voice. "You can fish our rivers, walk in our valleys, play in our streams". "But you will be alone. There are no people here. Not any more. No family, no friends. No others. Just the animals and plants, and the sun and the sky. Just the stars at night and the light of the moon. Your language will fade and you will never hear the sound of laughter ringing through the air again. You will never know love. You will never be comforted. You will be alone. Eventually your soul will fade, shrinking disheveled into your heart and you will cease to be human. Time will take you. You will become a part of your kingdom for all eternity an animal roaming the lands as any other. Then it will not be your kingdom. For he will always be king. These are his lands..." my eyes snapped back to the creature. "This is hell." The fire rose up, unfurling to head height. It was alive. Flames leapt from the human like figure and singed the air I was so rapidly breathing. "Do you accept?" The figure crowed. "What choice do I have?" I trembled. "Every choice. You can choose to stay here, or repent for your earthly sins and be transported to heaven. But know this, you must truly repent, or you risk sealing your fate here to fade to nothing, a figure of his eternal torment." "Then I chose to repent! I cannot chose this way, who could?!?" "There have been a few throughout the ages. They have faded now." "Not I, I repent." I pleaded. "So be it!" The flaming figure cried, diving forwards and engulfing me in a tight grasp. My skin burned white hot, my hair singed and my flesh melting away in agony. We shot upwards, a plume of smoke billowing from beneath our feet, the ceiling of the chamber fast approaching, all the while the figure's searing fingers clawing at my face an neck. Never slowing, we crashed through the ceiling. Blackness... Nothing... I awoke to a searing pain which scorched over my whole body. The chamber was white this time. Brilliant white. As though I was standing in a room of nothing. "You should have stayed!" A voice boomed. I held up a hand, shielding the dazzling white light. A majestic figure approached, on horseback. He was old. Not that he appeared old. He bore no wrinkles, and his hair was flowing and black. Thick muscles adorned his chest and neck, and his thick thighs sat atop his golden steed. But his eyes. Deep pools of memory that gazed from behind sunken sockets. Dark galaxies, all seeing, all knowing, all powerful. "My lands have become plagued by the likes of you. I will have lucifer's head for this. He should know better than allow the likes of you into my kingdom!". His voice pierced my very being, intensifying the pain, knocking the breath out of my lungs. Panting for breath, I summoned the courage. "Forgive me. I beg you!" I whimpered. He threw back his head, roaring with laughter. "Forgive you?!? What good would that do. You are in heaven now. My kingdom. Wether I forgive you means nothing." "You should have stayed where you belong!" The man boomed. "No matter, you will see for yourself soon enough!". He clapped his enormous hands together and the whole room quaked. Gilded doors swung open on the other end of the chamber, and I sprinted out of the room. Eager to escape the overbearing presence of the old man. A scene of horror emerged as my eyes adjusted. Screams of terror and the acrid flavour of smoke filled the air. The city below burned. A woman dashed from behind a blazing cabin followed by a stream of melted figures, scarred flesh bubbling and raw, bounding after her with hunger and malice in their eyes. She was fast, however she could not have seen the root of the shrivelled tree which grasped at her ankles, dragging her to the ashen ground. Her blonde locks fell over her face, covering her bruised cheeks and bleeding lip. They were on top of her. Pinning her to the ground, hungrily tearing at her clothes, lashing her with branches torn from trees and biting at her with gnawing, sharpened teeth. Their fingernails gouging into the flesh in which they were grasping and bringing forth fountains of blood. "What hell is this...?" I gasped. "It is heaven." Boomed the voice from within the chamber behind me. "A heaven which has swung open its doors who all that wish to come here. A heaven that has been pillaged by the murderers, rapists and thieves which the world so brutally creates. "What are those things... those monsters?". The words left my mouth, but in myself I had already answered my own question. "They are the evil ones." The man replied, exiting the room to stand by my side. "The ones who do not belong". I glanced at my reflection in his golden saddle. My stomach churned and I tasted bile. Shredded and torn. Burnt and disfigured. Hairless and naked. Shiny white scars wrapped around my entire body like vines. An evil mark of the torment I had to endure to gain entry into heaven. My eyes stared out of my skull from lidless sockets, my face melted like wax. It appeared as if my skin was dripping. I was a monster. "They had a choice, as did you. Now you must face the consequences of your choices". I fell back, in shock. So much shock that I did not feel my body hit the ground. It felt as if I was falling. Eternally falling. I covered my eyes with my decrepit hands. Blackness... Nothing... "CLEAR!" A shock ran through my entire system, spanning to my fingers and toes. My chest leapt into the air. I landed on the gurney with a thud. White lights all around me, the acrid out of the smoke still fresh in my nostrils. I tried to open my eyes but find them already open. I look down at myself. Shredded and torn. Burnt and disfigured. Hairless and naked. Shiny white scars wrapped around my entire body like vines. "You were in a fire" a voice above me says. "We resuscitated you, you are alive, you will survive." I later learned that I was clinically dead for one minute and six and 2/3 seconds. The doctors thought I was dead but decided to give the defibrillator one more shot. One more chance... I know the choices I must make now.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	All around me were the ruins of what once must have been a great city, now deserted, and devoid of any life - human or otherwise. Snowflakes kept falling from the ever-grey sky, covering the broken buildings and streets with a thin, white dusting. I shivered. In the distance someone was playing the harmonica, a sad and sorrowful tune. Walking towards the sound, I came to a building - less ruined than the others I had passed - and I noticed a faint light shining through its boarded-up windows and from under its simple, wooden front door. I knocked, then entered, trying not drag too much snow inside with my boots. The room beyond the door might once have been called cozy - bookshelves on one wall, a fire in an open fireplace on the other, a desk and some cushy chairs - but now it all looked old and worn. The harmonica's melody stopped when I entered, and the player - sitting on one of the chairs - turned his head towards me. "Ah, there you are. I was wondering when you'd show up. Please, close the door - it's rather chilly, no? - and take a seat." he spoke and motioned to the chairs. Slightly confused I did as he asked, then sat down in one of the chairs opposite his. "Who are you?" I asked "You have been waiting for me? And what is all this? Now that I think about it, I can't even recall how I got here in the first place." The man smiled a sad smile. "To answer your questions: This is Hell. Quite litterally. And I am Satan. The Devil. Lucifer. I think you get it. As to how you got here: Simple, you died, was measured and found lacking, and so you ended up here." "I died and went to Hell?" I asked incredulousy "This is Hell? Aren't there supposed to be lakes of lava or something? And I thought Satan looked different, ya know, more demonic, horns, goat feet, and so on." - I gestured at the tired looking man in his worn-out suit - "You - no offense - look rather ordinary. Also you didn't answer me why I can't remember anything." The man who claimed to be Satan sighed. "I had a looooong chat with the folks who first brought up that 'Fire and Brimstone' nonsense. Really considered going the extra mile for them, just so they could have a first-hand comparison of both experiences. And do you really want me to be horrible and scary? It's been a while - honestly I like this body better, hard to play the harmonica with claws and all - but if you insist..." For a moment I thought I saw something flicker in his eyes. I decided to err on the side of caution. "No. No need to bother. You are fine just as you are, I was just curious." The flicker disappeared. "Regarding your memory," the man continued "that is a side effect of being in Hell; you forget things - keeps the experience fresh, ya know. Though the memories of your life should come back once you leave." "Wait a minute," I interrupted him "'Once I leave'? I thought being in Hell meant that you were there for all eternity, for forever. So how is it possible for me to leave - not that I mind tough, looking outside I can imagine better places to be." "To be honest" he replied with a tired look "that is exactly the thing. 'Eternity'. 'Forever'. There have not been any new arrivals for quintillions of years, and now finally 'Everything' is over. Time and Space are over. 'Forever' is over. You have served your time, so to say." Once more he sighed "And it would be hardly fair to release you to Heaven with memories 'eternal suffering' - now don't look at me like this, it might not have been fire and brimstone, but I made sure you paid your dues and it was not pleasant. Anyway, so you forgot, and when you leave you will remember your life, good and bad, and you will remember that you paid for your sins - though not the details - so you can enjoy Heaven." I didn't know what to say, and just nodded dumbly. "So, go on," he gestured to a second door in the room - one that I could have sworn had not been there when I first entered - "go on to Heaven. I made sure you earned it - you can take my word." Getting to my feet I took a few hesitant steps toward the second door as I heard him resume playing that sad melody on his harmonica. "What about you?" I asked. He lifted the instrument from his lips and gave me a small, geniune smile. "Very kind of you to ask. But don't worry about me. As I said, I'm closing shop. This here is my penance, there might still be a few souls left, but when the last straggler has gone, I will turn out the lights and too leave through that door. Until then I pass the time with my harmonica." I nodded, and with the sound of his harmonica in my ears, stepped through the door to Heaven.	Blackness... Nothing... The bleak tones of a mouth organ wailed through the air, echoing around a chamber of black marble which was polished so brilliantly that the reflections of tiny flickering flames danced around the room like a troupe of sunset clad ballet dancers. They to'ed and fro'ed, they leapt and soared, providing a dim glow to the otherwise pitch black expanse of the chamber. The source of these flickers was a lonely fire no bigger than one I would have built myself when camping alone, or in the twilight hours of a fishing trip if I had managed to catch a trout to keep my growling stomach company as I waited for the stars above to creep from behind the daylight. Beside the fire sat a hunched figure, who proved to be the source of the melancholic crooning that was reverberating throughout the chamber, echoing as if a choir of sadistic angels. I felt drawn to him. For it was a him. Although it was not human. From the waist down the creature sported thick, matted hair, which clad his powerful legs all the way down to the ankle. From the ankle, powerful hooves protruded, each as smooth and black as the room in which I found myself. I approached the figure and called out to him. My body felt as if I was screaming, however the words came out in a feeble croak, the fear in my soul dragging them back into my knotted stomach. "Who are you?" The ensemble continued, unwavering and unfaltered. "Who are you?" I repeated. No reply. The harmonica glistening in the firelight, gliding between the figures cracked blue lips. "Who ar..." "He won't answer!" Came a shrill voice, "He never answers.". I whirled around, seeking the source of the voice, however it echoed around the room just as the mouth organ did. It sounded as if it was coming from everywhere. And nowhere. "We can offer you steak. And fresh wine. There will be no pain, and you will be the lord of your own kingdom." continued the voice. "You can fish our rivers, walk in our valleys, play in our streams". "But you will be alone. There are no people here. Not any more. No family, no friends. No others. Just the animals and plants, and the sun and the sky. Just the stars at night and the light of the moon. Your language will fade and you will never hear the sound of laughter ringing through the air again. You will never know love. You will never be comforted. You will be alone. Eventually your soul will fade, shrinking disheveled into your heart and you will cease to be human. Time will take you. You will become a part of your kingdom for all eternity an animal roaming the lands as any other. Then it will not be your kingdom. For he will always be king. These are his lands..." my eyes snapped back to the creature. "This is hell." The fire rose up, unfurling to head height. It was alive. Flames leapt from the human like figure and singed the air I was so rapidly breathing. "Do you accept?" The figure crowed. "What choice do I have?" I trembled. "Every choice. You can choose to stay here, or repent for your earthly sins and be transported to heaven. But know this, you must truly repent, or you risk sealing your fate here to fade to nothing, a figure of his eternal torment." "Then I chose to repent! I cannot chose this way, who could?!?" "There have been a few throughout the ages. They have faded now." "Not I, I repent." I pleaded. "So be it!" The flaming figure cried, diving forwards and engulfing me in a tight grasp. My skin burned white hot, my hair singed and my flesh melting away in agony. We shot upwards, a plume of smoke billowing from beneath our feet, the ceiling of the chamber fast approaching, all the while the figure's searing fingers clawing at my face an neck. Never slowing, we crashed through the ceiling. Blackness... Nothing... I awoke to a searing pain which scorched over my whole body. The chamber was white this time. Brilliant white. As though I was standing in a room of nothing. "You should have stayed!" A voice boomed. I held up a hand, shielding the dazzling white light. A majestic figure approached, on horseback. He was old. Not that he appeared old. He bore no wrinkles, and his hair was flowing and black. Thick muscles adorned his chest and neck, and his thick thighs sat atop his golden steed. But his eyes. Deep pools of memory that gazed from behind sunken sockets. Dark galaxies, all seeing, all knowing, all powerful. "My lands have become plagued by the likes of you. I will have lucifer's head for this. He should know better than allow the likes of you into my kingdom!". His voice pierced my very being, intensifying the pain, knocking the breath out of my lungs. Panting for breath, I summoned the courage. "Forgive me. I beg you!" I whimpered. He threw back his head, roaring with laughter. "Forgive you?!? What good would that do. You are in heaven now. My kingdom. Wether I forgive you means nothing." "You should have stayed where you belong!" The man boomed. "No matter, you will see for yourself soon enough!". He clapped his enormous hands together and the whole room quaked. Gilded doors swung open on the other end of the chamber, and I sprinted out of the room. Eager to escape the overbearing presence of the old man. A scene of horror emerged as my eyes adjusted. Screams of terror and the acrid flavour of smoke filled the air. The city below burned. A woman dashed from behind a blazing cabin followed by a stream of melted figures, scarred flesh bubbling and raw, bounding after her with hunger and malice in their eyes. She was fast, however she could not have seen the root of the shrivelled tree which grasped at her ankles, dragging her to the ashen ground. Her blonde locks fell over her face, covering her bruised cheeks and bleeding lip. They were on top of her. Pinning her to the ground, hungrily tearing at her clothes, lashing her with branches torn from trees and biting at her with gnawing, sharpened teeth. Their fingernails gouging into the flesh in which they were grasping and bringing forth fountains of blood. "What hell is this...?" I gasped. "It is heaven." Boomed the voice from within the chamber behind me. "A heaven which has swung open its doors who all that wish to come here. A heaven that has been pillaged by the murderers, rapists and thieves which the world so brutally creates. "What are those things... those monsters?". The words left my mouth, but in myself I had already answered my own question. "They are the evil ones." The man replied, exiting the room to stand by my side. "The ones who do not belong". I glanced at my reflection in his golden saddle. My stomach churned and I tasted bile. Shredded and torn. Burnt and disfigured. Hairless and naked. Shiny white scars wrapped around my entire body like vines. An evil mark of the torment I had to endure to gain entry into heaven. My eyes stared out of my skull from lidless sockets, my face melted like wax. It appeared as if my skin was dripping. I was a monster. "They had a choice, as did you. Now you must face the consequences of your choices". I fell back, in shock. So much shock that I did not feel my body hit the ground. It felt as if I was falling. Eternally falling. I covered my eyes with my decrepit hands. Blackness... Nothing... "CLEAR!" A shock ran through my entire system, spanning to my fingers and toes. My chest leapt into the air. I landed on the gurney with a thud. White lights all around me, the acrid out of the smoke still fresh in my nostrils. I tried to open my eyes but find them already open. I look down at myself. Shredded and torn. Burnt and disfigured. Hairless and naked. Shiny white scars wrapped around my entire body like vines. "You were in a fire" a voice above me says. "We resuscitated you, you are alive, you will survive." I later learned that I was clinically dead for one minute and six and 2/3 seconds. The doctors thought I was dead but decided to give the defibrillator one more shot. One more chance... I know the choices I must make now.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	I step forward into a well lit bar. The place is completely empty except for Al Pachino sitting on a bar stool under a pin spot on the center stage wailing on a harmonica. I look down and I’m dressed in a perfectly tailored three piece suit, and my shoes glow in the light softened by red gels. Al is now playing hook and I feel myself being pulled toward the stage; when I’m but a few feet from it another pin spot finds me and bathes me in brilliant white light. The music stops. I look up at him and say, “Wh…” The man’s lips curl around his mouth, “Who am I?” He extended his hand and a flaming glass of liquid appeared. He blew the flame out and took a sip from the glass. “You know who I am, and you know where you are, now say it.” “I’m…I’m…” “Come on now, say it like you’ve got a pair,” He demanded. “I’m dead. There was an accident, and a fire, and I didn’t survive,” I spoke each word as if I were learning the information as I was explaining it. “So is this what, a weigh station for my next life?” Al laughed, “No, you lived your life, your one shot. Was it everything you wanted?” “No, not by a long shot. So if I don’t go on, is this heaven?” He shook his head, “Nope. You my friend are in hell, and me? I’m the Devil, Satan, Lucifer, so on and so on.” “Al Pachino isn’t even dead yet… wait, why the fuck am I in hell?” I yelled as my emotions shifted from confused to angry. He sighed and snapped his fingers turning into the Robot Devil from futurama, “Is this better?” He snapped again and flashed over to a more standard, red pitchfork wielding redheaded woman. “How about this?” “Fine, you’re the Devil, I’m in hell, the question is why?” “You didn’t believe in anything. None of the religions are right, but you didn’t believe in any of them, or anything. You didn’t have to believe in the dogma of the religion, but Bill wanted you to believe in him.” “Fuck, so I’m stuck here, for an eternity? Where is Hitler, Stalin, Bea Arthur? Why is it so empty in here? Wait, Bill?” I shook my head in disbelief. “Yeah, god’s name is Bill. The reason it’s empty in here is because if you believe in Bill you take the express lane over there, straight to whatever version of heaven you can imagine.” “So, Bill sent me to hell because I didn’t believe in him. That sounds a little spiteful, right? What are you in for?” “You’re familiar with the gatekeeper?” The beautiful woman asked. “Dana from Ghostbusters, Sigourney Weaver?” I asked. The woman faded into Zuul then jumped off the stage to stand in front of me and in that voice asked, “Are you a god?” Instantly she began to laugh. I laughed just as hard and then said, “Ray, when someone asks if you’re a god, you say yes!” I slapped her on the shoulder and laughed some more. Zuul faded into a man with a long flowing white beard holding a scroll and quill pen, in front of us on the stage gates began to form from the shadows. “I was thinking more like Saint Peter. That’s more or less who I am. I am the gatekeeper between the world you came from and the afterlife. “ “Does everyone get in?” I asked. “Most, but there are a few who don’t feel they’re ready, or some that are so paranoid they expect it to be a test. So they just sit here praying silently to themselves.” I glanced around the bar and said, “But we’re alone.” “Are we?” The old man shifted back into the form of Al Pachino and ascended back to his bar stool perch on the stage. With a wave of his hand, suddenly the bar was filled with people from all different walks of life. The bar now had a young topless woman. her arms tattooed in full sleeves behind the counter drinking liquid in and spiting it out across an open flame, a bright orange fireball passed over the bar. The people sitting on stools ducked and instinctively before sitting back up. Another table had nuns praying the rosary, next to them another group of Hasidic Jews murmured among themselves keeping nearly silent vigil. There were men in suits wandering toward me, and women in every manner of outfit from short black dress to full length ball gown. I turned back to Al and when I did the noises died down all around me as the people vanished. Al looked down at me as I looked up at him and he played a short riff on the glimmering harmonica, and when he finished he said, “Do you recognized Bill to be your creator, and responsible for all that you are?” “If I did, that would mean I didn’t believe in free will. I can’t do that, I’m every bit as responsible for who I am as some absentee father figure. So no, I can’t say that.” “You do realize that you’ll be banished to this place for all eternity right?” I smiled and said, “Bring back the people, and lets get this party started. Do you take requests? How about The Devil Went Down to Georgia?” “Not that fucking song, do you think I could be beaten in a contest? I’ve been doing this for eons you think Charlie Daniels with fifty years of practice is going to beat me? Fuck that guy.”	Blackness... Nothing... The bleak tones of a mouth organ wailed through the air, echoing around a chamber of black marble which was polished so brilliantly that the reflections of tiny flickering flames danced around the room like a troupe of sunset clad ballet dancers. They to'ed and fro'ed, they leapt and soared, providing a dim glow to the otherwise pitch black expanse of the chamber. The source of these flickers was a lonely fire no bigger than one I would have built myself when camping alone, or in the twilight hours of a fishing trip if I had managed to catch a trout to keep my growling stomach company as I waited for the stars above to creep from behind the daylight. Beside the fire sat a hunched figure, who proved to be the source of the melancholic crooning that was reverberating throughout the chamber, echoing as if a choir of sadistic angels. I felt drawn to him. For it was a him. Although it was not human. From the waist down the creature sported thick, matted hair, which clad his powerful legs all the way down to the ankle. From the ankle, powerful hooves protruded, each as smooth and black as the room in which I found myself. I approached the figure and called out to him. My body felt as if I was screaming, however the words came out in a feeble croak, the fear in my soul dragging them back into my knotted stomach. "Who are you?" The ensemble continued, unwavering and unfaltered. "Who are you?" I repeated. No reply. The harmonica glistening in the firelight, gliding between the figures cracked blue lips. "Who ar..." "He won't answer!" Came a shrill voice, "He never answers.". I whirled around, seeking the source of the voice, however it echoed around the room just as the mouth organ did. It sounded as if it was coming from everywhere. And nowhere. "We can offer you steak. And fresh wine. There will be no pain, and you will be the lord of your own kingdom." continued the voice. "You can fish our rivers, walk in our valleys, play in our streams". "But you will be alone. There are no people here. Not any more. No family, no friends. No others. Just the animals and plants, and the sun and the sky. Just the stars at night and the light of the moon. Your language will fade and you will never hear the sound of laughter ringing through the air again. You will never know love. You will never be comforted. You will be alone. Eventually your soul will fade, shrinking disheveled into your heart and you will cease to be human. Time will take you. You will become a part of your kingdom for all eternity an animal roaming the lands as any other. Then it will not be your kingdom. For he will always be king. These are his lands..." my eyes snapped back to the creature. "This is hell." The fire rose up, unfurling to head height. It was alive. Flames leapt from the human like figure and singed the air I was so rapidly breathing. "Do you accept?" The figure crowed. "What choice do I have?" I trembled. "Every choice. You can choose to stay here, or repent for your earthly sins and be transported to heaven. But know this, you must truly repent, or you risk sealing your fate here to fade to nothing, a figure of his eternal torment." "Then I chose to repent! I cannot chose this way, who could?!?" "There have been a few throughout the ages. They have faded now." "Not I, I repent." I pleaded. "So be it!" The flaming figure cried, diving forwards and engulfing me in a tight grasp. My skin burned white hot, my hair singed and my flesh melting away in agony. We shot upwards, a plume of smoke billowing from beneath our feet, the ceiling of the chamber fast approaching, all the while the figure's searing fingers clawing at my face an neck. Never slowing, we crashed through the ceiling. Blackness... Nothing... I awoke to a searing pain which scorched over my whole body. The chamber was white this time. Brilliant white. As though I was standing in a room of nothing. "You should have stayed!" A voice boomed. I held up a hand, shielding the dazzling white light. A majestic figure approached, on horseback. He was old. Not that he appeared old. He bore no wrinkles, and his hair was flowing and black. Thick muscles adorned his chest and neck, and his thick thighs sat atop his golden steed. But his eyes. Deep pools of memory that gazed from behind sunken sockets. Dark galaxies, all seeing, all knowing, all powerful. "My lands have become plagued by the likes of you. I will have lucifer's head for this. He should know better than allow the likes of you into my kingdom!". His voice pierced my very being, intensifying the pain, knocking the breath out of my lungs. Panting for breath, I summoned the courage. "Forgive me. I beg you!" I whimpered. He threw back his head, roaring with laughter. "Forgive you?!? What good would that do. You are in heaven now. My kingdom. Wether I forgive you means nothing." "You should have stayed where you belong!" The man boomed. "No matter, you will see for yourself soon enough!". He clapped his enormous hands together and the whole room quaked. Gilded doors swung open on the other end of the chamber, and I sprinted out of the room. Eager to escape the overbearing presence of the old man. A scene of horror emerged as my eyes adjusted. Screams of terror and the acrid flavour of smoke filled the air. The city below burned. A woman dashed from behind a blazing cabin followed by a stream of melted figures, scarred flesh bubbling and raw, bounding after her with hunger and malice in their eyes. She was fast, however she could not have seen the root of the shrivelled tree which grasped at her ankles, dragging her to the ashen ground. Her blonde locks fell over her face, covering her bruised cheeks and bleeding lip. They were on top of her. Pinning her to the ground, hungrily tearing at her clothes, lashing her with branches torn from trees and biting at her with gnawing, sharpened teeth. Their fingernails gouging into the flesh in which they were grasping and bringing forth fountains of blood. "What hell is this...?" I gasped. "It is heaven." Boomed the voice from within the chamber behind me. "A heaven which has swung open its doors who all that wish to come here. A heaven that has been pillaged by the murderers, rapists and thieves which the world so brutally creates. "What are those things... those monsters?". The words left my mouth, but in myself I had already answered my own question. "They are the evil ones." The man replied, exiting the room to stand by my side. "The ones who do not belong". I glanced at my reflection in his golden saddle. My stomach churned and I tasted bile. Shredded and torn. Burnt and disfigured. Hairless and naked. Shiny white scars wrapped around my entire body like vines. An evil mark of the torment I had to endure to gain entry into heaven. My eyes stared out of my skull from lidless sockets, my face melted like wax. It appeared as if my skin was dripping. I was a monster. "They had a choice, as did you. Now you must face the consequences of your choices". I fell back, in shock. So much shock that I did not feel my body hit the ground. It felt as if I was falling. Eternally falling. I covered my eyes with my decrepit hands. Blackness... Nothing... "CLEAR!" A shock ran through my entire system, spanning to my fingers and toes. My chest leapt into the air. I landed on the gurney with a thud. White lights all around me, the acrid out of the smoke still fresh in my nostrils. I tried to open my eyes but find them already open. I look down at myself. Shredded and torn. Burnt and disfigured. Hairless and naked. Shiny white scars wrapped around my entire body like vines. "You were in a fire" a voice above me says. "We resuscitated you, you are alive, you will survive." I later learned that I was clinically dead for one minute and six and 2/3 seconds. The doctors thought I was dead but decided to give the defibrillator one more shot. One more chance... I know the choices I must make now.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	The soft tones of the ancient wind instrument trailed off as the Lord of Hell finally acknowledged my presence in his domain “You…play the harmonica?” I asked, still trying to wrap my head around the features that now surrounded me. He set his harmonica down on a nearby table that was formed out of pumice, and had small trails of lava pouring out of holes in the sides quite artistically. He adjusted his position on the stool he sat upon to regard me, his amber eyes seeming to pierce right through to my soul…if I still had one. “Indeed. This particular specimen is one of the first mass-produced examples of the modern day instrument you may be familiar with. I took it from the inventor as he came through my doors. “ Satan paused for a moment, “He left it to me when he decided to ascend, it was quite unfortunate that such a gracious man ended up in my custody.” He stood up and walked over to me, placing his hand upon my shoulder . Standing over 7 feet tall and powerfully built, he was as physically imposing a figure as one would imagine the keeper of the underworld to be. “You’re free to ascend as well, human. A new judgement was passed some time ago, no longer is anyone to be enslaved against their will.” I took a step back from him, looking down I reflected on the events that brought me here. “I know. Saint Peter informed me that I was eligible for entry into heaven. I chose this place instead.” With a curious grunt, Lucifer turned around and approached a void in the wall. He waved his hand across it and, like a hologram, key events in my life flashed across the space. Scenes of battle and lust, bigotry and slander streamed endlessly like a video loop until he cast it away. He didn’t even turn to address me, “You seem to have committed no atrocities, no war crimes. A few petty misdeeds, and certainly things that would have led to your disgrace under the old system, but far from the worst I’ve seen.” I shook my head softly in agreement. “So,” Another pause as he turned to face me again, “What lead you to choose this place? You have no family down here, no friends, no lovers. They’re up there, “ he pointed towards the roof of the chamber we were in, “enjoying themselves. Awaiting you.” Another pause, and then softer, “Everyone’s up there nowadays.” It was at this time that I could finally regard him directly, “And when I was hungry, cold, and alone…I remember what that felt like. They never helped me, instead I was saved by a very kind man who had never known me before. He said that I should do the same thing whenever I was given the opportunity, but I never was able to do so. Until now.” The Devil’s gaze softened, and he sat down on the same stool that I had encountered him on. He motioned me to join him on a similar one. “It’s been a long time since I was enjoyed for my company. Tell me, what would you like to do?” Sitting next to him, I only had one request: “Tell me your story, from your side of things.”	Blackness... Nothing... The bleak tones of a mouth organ wailed through the air, echoing around a chamber of black marble which was polished so brilliantly that the reflections of tiny flickering flames danced around the room like a troupe of sunset clad ballet dancers. They to'ed and fro'ed, they leapt and soared, providing a dim glow to the otherwise pitch black expanse of the chamber. The source of these flickers was a lonely fire no bigger than one I would have built myself when camping alone, or in the twilight hours of a fishing trip if I had managed to catch a trout to keep my growling stomach company as I waited for the stars above to creep from behind the daylight. Beside the fire sat a hunched figure, who proved to be the source of the melancholic crooning that was reverberating throughout the chamber, echoing as if a choir of sadistic angels. I felt drawn to him. For it was a him. Although it was not human. From the waist down the creature sported thick, matted hair, which clad his powerful legs all the way down to the ankle. From the ankle, powerful hooves protruded, each as smooth and black as the room in which I found myself. I approached the figure and called out to him. My body felt as if I was screaming, however the words came out in a feeble croak, the fear in my soul dragging them back into my knotted stomach. "Who are you?" The ensemble continued, unwavering and unfaltered. "Who are you?" I repeated. No reply. The harmonica glistening in the firelight, gliding between the figures cracked blue lips. "Who ar..." "He won't answer!" Came a shrill voice, "He never answers.". I whirled around, seeking the source of the voice, however it echoed around the room just as the mouth organ did. It sounded as if it was coming from everywhere. And nowhere. "We can offer you steak. And fresh wine. There will be no pain, and you will be the lord of your own kingdom." continued the voice. "You can fish our rivers, walk in our valleys, play in our streams". "But you will be alone. There are no people here. Not any more. No family, no friends. No others. Just the animals and plants, and the sun and the sky. Just the stars at night and the light of the moon. Your language will fade and you will never hear the sound of laughter ringing through the air again. You will never know love. You will never be comforted. You will be alone. Eventually your soul will fade, shrinking disheveled into your heart and you will cease to be human. Time will take you. You will become a part of your kingdom for all eternity an animal roaming the lands as any other. Then it will not be your kingdom. For he will always be king. These are his lands..." my eyes snapped back to the creature. "This is hell." The fire rose up, unfurling to head height. It was alive. Flames leapt from the human like figure and singed the air I was so rapidly breathing. "Do you accept?" The figure crowed. "What choice do I have?" I trembled. "Every choice. You can choose to stay here, or repent for your earthly sins and be transported to heaven. But know this, you must truly repent, or you risk sealing your fate here to fade to nothing, a figure of his eternal torment." "Then I chose to repent! I cannot chose this way, who could?!?" "There have been a few throughout the ages. They have faded now." "Not I, I repent." I pleaded. "So be it!" The flaming figure cried, diving forwards and engulfing me in a tight grasp. My skin burned white hot, my hair singed and my flesh melting away in agony. We shot upwards, a plume of smoke billowing from beneath our feet, the ceiling of the chamber fast approaching, all the while the figure's searing fingers clawing at my face an neck. Never slowing, we crashed through the ceiling. Blackness... Nothing... I awoke to a searing pain which scorched over my whole body. The chamber was white this time. Brilliant white. As though I was standing in a room of nothing. "You should have stayed!" A voice boomed. I held up a hand, shielding the dazzling white light. A majestic figure approached, on horseback. He was old. Not that he appeared old. He bore no wrinkles, and his hair was flowing and black. Thick muscles adorned his chest and neck, and his thick thighs sat atop his golden steed. But his eyes. Deep pools of memory that gazed from behind sunken sockets. Dark galaxies, all seeing, all knowing, all powerful. "My lands have become plagued by the likes of you. I will have lucifer's head for this. He should know better than allow the likes of you into my kingdom!". His voice pierced my very being, intensifying the pain, knocking the breath out of my lungs. Panting for breath, I summoned the courage. "Forgive me. I beg you!" I whimpered. He threw back his head, roaring with laughter. "Forgive you?!? What good would that do. You are in heaven now. My kingdom. Wether I forgive you means nothing." "You should have stayed where you belong!" The man boomed. "No matter, you will see for yourself soon enough!". He clapped his enormous hands together and the whole room quaked. Gilded doors swung open on the other end of the chamber, and I sprinted out of the room. Eager to escape the overbearing presence of the old man. A scene of horror emerged as my eyes adjusted. Screams of terror and the acrid flavour of smoke filled the air. The city below burned. A woman dashed from behind a blazing cabin followed by a stream of melted figures, scarred flesh bubbling and raw, bounding after her with hunger and malice in their eyes. She was fast, however she could not have seen the root of the shrivelled tree which grasped at her ankles, dragging her to the ashen ground. Her blonde locks fell over her face, covering her bruised cheeks and bleeding lip. They were on top of her. Pinning her to the ground, hungrily tearing at her clothes, lashing her with branches torn from trees and biting at her with gnawing, sharpened teeth. Their fingernails gouging into the flesh in which they were grasping and bringing forth fountains of blood. "What hell is this...?" I gasped. "It is heaven." Boomed the voice from within the chamber behind me. "A heaven which has swung open its doors who all that wish to come here. A heaven that has been pillaged by the murderers, rapists and thieves which the world so brutally creates. "What are those things... those monsters?". The words left my mouth, but in myself I had already answered my own question. "They are the evil ones." The man replied, exiting the room to stand by my side. "The ones who do not belong". I glanced at my reflection in his golden saddle. My stomach churned and I tasted bile. Shredded and torn. Burnt and disfigured. Hairless and naked. Shiny white scars wrapped around my entire body like vines. An evil mark of the torment I had to endure to gain entry into heaven. My eyes stared out of my skull from lidless sockets, my face melted like wax. It appeared as if my skin was dripping. I was a monster. "They had a choice, as did you. Now you must face the consequences of your choices". I fell back, in shock. So much shock that I did not feel my body hit the ground. It felt as if I was falling. Eternally falling. I covered my eyes with my decrepit hands. Blackness... Nothing... "CLEAR!" A shock ran through my entire system, spanning to my fingers and toes. My chest leapt into the air. I landed on the gurney with a thud. White lights all around me, the acrid out of the smoke still fresh in my nostrils. I tried to open my eyes but find them already open. I look down at myself. Shredded and torn. Burnt and disfigured. Hairless and naked. Shiny white scars wrapped around my entire body like vines. "You were in a fire" a voice above me says. "We resuscitated you, you are alive, you will survive." I later learned that I was clinically dead for one minute and six and 2/3 seconds. The doctors thought I was dead but decided to give the defibrillator one more shot. One more chance... I know the choices I must make now.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	I died screaming. That kind of happens when a 300lb hell cat was eating your face. But I woke up so it was a little anticlimactic. I always thought I'd be awed by what I saw on the other side, but nah the last couple years of apocalypse level jackassery beat it out of me. The landscape was a ruin of burnt trees and blackened ground. Not a shit ton different than earth. The sound of a harmonica whispered through the still air. It could have been blues, or it could have been hill billy rock. I didn't listen to either. I strolled through the barren landscape. It didn't look like there was much worry about, no people, no demons. No all the demons were on Earth, wrecking havoc and eating peoples faces. The people were, well, they weren't in hell. I followed the music to a man sitting on a stump beside a fire. I didn't think it was cold enough for a fire but it was hell so I didn't know shit. He also sucked at the harmonica. “Dude, could you not?” The man stopped playing and looked up at me. “You don't have to stay. Door out is that way.” Lo and behold there was a actual door ringed in blue fire and emitting a bright warming light. I was drawn to it like a moth to flame, but I like to make bad decisions so I stayed. “Why are you still here?” “I can't get out. I'm here for eternity.” He put down the harmonica and poked at the fire. “They found a loophole. Too much torture, too much anger, too many lawyers. They found a way out. Everything left. The souls went to heaven. The demons…” “Went to earth. It kind of fucked us too.” The devil looked a little sheepish. “I noticed.” A scream cut through the air and a body fell through the air and splattered across the burnt ground. I wondered if I arrived the same way. “Gross,” I commented. Satan shrugged. The mass quickly reformed into a man. He scrambled to his feet and ran for the bright door without even looking at us. Gotta say, he had a good idea. ”That happen a lot?” “Yep.” “Dude, you gotta stop torturing yourself. That can't be good for you.” He glared at me with flame sparked eyes. “We are in hell.” “Yeah, but you don't gotta sulk. Don't you have a castle around here or something?” He stood up growing taller and larger by the moment. “I am the Prince of Darkness, Lord of the Flies, I can make anything I should need.” I had to admit I was impressed, but really, hellcat to the face ruined me for all the other monsters. “Well, right now, Prince, I'm your only subject. So, ya know, chill.” The devil deflated and looked around. He looked sad and completely lost. “Come on, bro. Let's go to your castle and I'll show you how to make a sandwich. You could probably use a hot cocoa too.” Satan sighed. He stomped out the fire. “Yeah, alright. I don't have anything better to do.” I clapped him on the back. He'll wasn’t going to be that bad. “Oh, yeah, toss the harmonica. You gotta get a guitar if you want anyone to respect you."	I felt an intense, white hot pain, and then: nothing. There was nothing but total darkness. The feeling slowly returned to my limbs, and I was able to open my eyes. Still: total darkness. I landed, wherever I was, on my hands and knees. The ground beneath me was gritty feeling, almost rocky. I'd already scraped my hands, and my knees ached from the impact of landing. I slowly brought myself up to my hands and knees. Where am I? I thought. It's so dark, a little frightened voice inside of me said. But a much larger terror washed over me as it all came rushing back to me: the river, my overalls snagging on a tree branch, hitting my head on a rock and then...darkness. My summer of fun ended in tragedy. And now I was here, alone, in the dark. I knew the only thing that I could do is move forward until I found some kind of source of light. As I trudged forward, I tripped over the rocks under my feet. I must be in some kind of cave, I thought. I've never seen anywhere so dark. As I continued to move, I began to see a small pinprick of light. Hope blossomed in my chest: there was a way out of here. I started running towards the light, and then, tripping over myself one last time, I fell over a chasm, into the light, and landed facefirst in a room. The first thing I noticed about the room: it was empty. And it was hot. I was from Georgia, originally, so I knew what heat was. But it was ten times as hot as a humid Georgia summer day. As I felt myself beginning to sweat, I looked around me and noticed that the room was bare, save for a table and a chair. The sound of a harmonica floated through the air, a haunting, dissonant melody. A melody I found eerily familiar. That small point of confusion over the sound dissolved quickly as I turned to literally face the music. My face contorted with rage at what I saw. It was him. My greatest enemy. The enemy I knew I would one day have to face again. Playing...a harmonica? The evil creature who beat me, the greatest fiddle player in Georgia, the boy who saved his home state from pure evil...was playing the HARMONICA? I could barely utter a syllable as he sat there placidly, playing. But the ungodly rage that I felt suddenly exploded and I uttered just one word: "You." The devil stopped playing the harmonica and met my eyes with his own fire-filled ones. "Me." We stared at each other for a long moment. I was tempted to pull out my fiddle and start waving it in his face, but I realized i'd left it back on the river bank on that lazy afternoon. Foolish, really, to leave a golden fiddle on a river bank. But we were trustworthy folk, in Georgia. And i'd already met my greatest enemy. "What am I doin' here? I thought I chased you away for good." The devil leveled his gaze at me, and spoke in a low voice. "We aren't in Georgia anymore, boy." A new realization washed over me, and I knew he was exactly right. "Then we're in your house now, huh?" "That would be correct." As I noticed how empty it was, I gathered the courage to ask a question. "Then how come nobody's here?" The devil stared at me and said, "I don't have to tell you anything." I stood and waited for a beat. Then, more hesitantly, the devil rumbled, "They're all gone. My righteous and merciful Father let them go to Heaven. You can go too. Get out." I was astonished at that. God, letting all of the sinners go to Heaven? The devil telling me to leave? That seemed uncharacteristic of what I knew of him, of the both of them, really. Years ago, when he challenged me to a fiddlin' duel, my soul for a golden fiddle, he seemed like he would do anything to get my soul, and the souls of my fellow Georgians to boot. I didn't know what to think about the fact that he was no longer in charge of souls period. After a few more beats of silence and me looking at the devil's disgruntled face (which looked like how you would think the devil would look), I realized I didn't like that answer. I didn't like being told where to go, especially by the devil. And I found it suspicious that the souls were all gone. Not even God had kept many tabs on me, as he'd never come down to earth to check on me and figure out how i'd lived so long. But apparently God had changed the rules, or the devil had, and I didn't like what that might mean for me. Or how i'd gotten here when everyone was going to heaven now. Slowly, as I stood there staring down the devil, an idea formed. A really stupid idea, one I hadn't had since that fiddlin' duel 100 years ago. "Alright, devil. I don't know what you're up to, but I don't like it. You say there's nobody down here 'cause God says so? Well you and me, we're gonna go see God. I think it's about time I gave him a talkin' too anyway." The devil continued to sit where he was. He didn't like being ordered around, either. He said, "I'm not moving. I quite like it down here without all the noise. Gives me a chance to focus on my music." But I could tell that he was lying. He missed being able to torture all those souls, and there was a hunger in his eyes which couldn't be sated. "Oh no, you don't, you slippery old...devil," I finished lamely. "You're comin' with me." I moved to grab the devil's arm. "I wouldn't touch me if I were you, boy." I realized that might be an even stupider idea. But then: a lightbulb came on. The only way you could get the devil to do anything was to make a deal with him. And, i'll be damned, I loved makin' deals as much as he did. I stroked my nonexistent chin hair for a minute and said, "Alright, devil. If you won't move, then i'll make you deal." The devil perked up, then. I continued. "If you come with me to see God, i'll give you a rematch on that fiddle duel we had. If you win, you get the fiddle back and as many souls in Georgia as you fill up in this place. But if I win...I get to go back to Earth and live out the rest of my immortal life...do we got a deal or what?" The devil looked at me again, as a slow, sinister smile spread across his crimson face. He held out his hand to me and said, "it's a deal...Johnny."
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	>Oh God damnit! I spun around confused. Just moments earlier I'd been walking down the street, and now I was in a cold, dark, lifeless...abyss. Before me was terror incarnate. Black horns over a foot long sprung from the stranger's red face. Well, red everything. This had to be Satan. The giant figure sighed, sat down a harmonica, and stood. >Just when I finally...sigh...welcome to Hell, darkness and everlasting torment...whatever. I am the dark one, Satan. Not knowing what to say I offered a meager head nod. Should I bow? >No, don't bow. Just prepare yourself for pain and terror for the rest of eternity. I felt myself starting to panic, looking around for escape or help. The realization hit me I'm all alone with the most evil creature ever brought into creation. And apparently the bastard can read my thoughts. Wait, why am I alone with...it? Where is everyone? >Yes, that's right. It's just you and me. And I will make you suffer. But before we begin I must warn you. Whatever you do, DO NOT go through the door marked exit. An exit? In Hell? Should I try... >Oh no, don't, stop, I'm warning you. Without thinking another moment I sprinted towards the door. Satan didn't even give chase. As I pulled the door open a blinding, white light sprung through. >Oh no, another one got away. Well, guess I'll just enjoy a little peace and quiet. As the door shut behind me all I could hear was stilted harmonica music interspersed with booming laughter.	I felt an intense, white hot pain, and then: nothing. There was nothing but total darkness. The feeling slowly returned to my limbs, and I was able to open my eyes. Still: total darkness. I landed, wherever I was, on my hands and knees. The ground beneath me was gritty feeling, almost rocky. I'd already scraped my hands, and my knees ached from the impact of landing. I slowly brought myself up to my hands and knees. Where am I? I thought. It's so dark, a little frightened voice inside of me said. But a much larger terror washed over me as it all came rushing back to me: the river, my overalls snagging on a tree branch, hitting my head on a rock and then...darkness. My summer of fun ended in tragedy. And now I was here, alone, in the dark. I knew the only thing that I could do is move forward until I found some kind of source of light. As I trudged forward, I tripped over the rocks under my feet. I must be in some kind of cave, I thought. I've never seen anywhere so dark. As I continued to move, I began to see a small pinprick of light. Hope blossomed in my chest: there was a way out of here. I started running towards the light, and then, tripping over myself one last time, I fell over a chasm, into the light, and landed facefirst in a room. The first thing I noticed about the room: it was empty. And it was hot. I was from Georgia, originally, so I knew what heat was. But it was ten times as hot as a humid Georgia summer day. As I felt myself beginning to sweat, I looked around me and noticed that the room was bare, save for a table and a chair. The sound of a harmonica floated through the air, a haunting, dissonant melody. A melody I found eerily familiar. That small point of confusion over the sound dissolved quickly as I turned to literally face the music. My face contorted with rage at what I saw. It was him. My greatest enemy. The enemy I knew I would one day have to face again. Playing...a harmonica? The evil creature who beat me, the greatest fiddle player in Georgia, the boy who saved his home state from pure evil...was playing the HARMONICA? I could barely utter a syllable as he sat there placidly, playing. But the ungodly rage that I felt suddenly exploded and I uttered just one word: "You." The devil stopped playing the harmonica and met my eyes with his own fire-filled ones. "Me." We stared at each other for a long moment. I was tempted to pull out my fiddle and start waving it in his face, but I realized i'd left it back on the river bank on that lazy afternoon. Foolish, really, to leave a golden fiddle on a river bank. But we were trustworthy folk, in Georgia. And i'd already met my greatest enemy. "What am I doin' here? I thought I chased you away for good." The devil leveled his gaze at me, and spoke in a low voice. "We aren't in Georgia anymore, boy." A new realization washed over me, and I knew he was exactly right. "Then we're in your house now, huh?" "That would be correct." As I noticed how empty it was, I gathered the courage to ask a question. "Then how come nobody's here?" The devil stared at me and said, "I don't have to tell you anything." I stood and waited for a beat. Then, more hesitantly, the devil rumbled, "They're all gone. My righteous and merciful Father let them go to Heaven. You can go too. Get out." I was astonished at that. God, letting all of the sinners go to Heaven? The devil telling me to leave? That seemed uncharacteristic of what I knew of him, of the both of them, really. Years ago, when he challenged me to a fiddlin' duel, my soul for a golden fiddle, he seemed like he would do anything to get my soul, and the souls of my fellow Georgians to boot. I didn't know what to think about the fact that he was no longer in charge of souls period. After a few more beats of silence and me looking at the devil's disgruntled face (which looked like how you would think the devil would look), I realized I didn't like that answer. I didn't like being told where to go, especially by the devil. And I found it suspicious that the souls were all gone. Not even God had kept many tabs on me, as he'd never come down to earth to check on me and figure out how i'd lived so long. But apparently God had changed the rules, or the devil had, and I didn't like what that might mean for me. Or how i'd gotten here when everyone was going to heaven now. Slowly, as I stood there staring down the devil, an idea formed. A really stupid idea, one I hadn't had since that fiddlin' duel 100 years ago. "Alright, devil. I don't know what you're up to, but I don't like it. You say there's nobody down here 'cause God says so? Well you and me, we're gonna go see God. I think it's about time I gave him a talkin' too anyway." The devil continued to sit where he was. He didn't like being ordered around, either. He said, "I'm not moving. I quite like it down here without all the noise. Gives me a chance to focus on my music." But I could tell that he was lying. He missed being able to torture all those souls, and there was a hunger in his eyes which couldn't be sated. "Oh no, you don't, you slippery old...devil," I finished lamely. "You're comin' with me." I moved to grab the devil's arm. "I wouldn't touch me if I were you, boy." I realized that might be an even stupider idea. But then: a lightbulb came on. The only way you could get the devil to do anything was to make a deal with him. And, i'll be damned, I loved makin' deals as much as he did. I stroked my nonexistent chin hair for a minute and said, "Alright, devil. If you won't move, then i'll make you deal." The devil perked up, then. I continued. "If you come with me to see God, i'll give you a rematch on that fiddle duel we had. If you win, you get the fiddle back and as many souls in Georgia as you fill up in this place. But if I win...I get to go back to Earth and live out the rest of my immortal life...do we got a deal or what?" The devil looked at me again, as a slow, sinister smile spread across his crimson face. He held out his hand to me and said, "it's a deal...Johnny."
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	"Hello?" I called out into a seemingly endless abyss. I heard a weepy wobbly minor chord play on a harmonica behind me. There, in front of my own two eyes was the lord of darkness himself, slouched back on a rocking chair playing the blues. I trembled in his presence but noticed he was unamused by me. "Um, hi." I said quietly. He spat what appeared to be lava into a spittoon that seemingly constituted itself. "What you want?" He said in a low charred voice. "Are you...the devil?" "You mean the ruler of the underworld, Diablo, king of the damned, foulest of the foul? "Yeah him." "That guy hasn't been around here for a while, looks like nobody needs him anymore. He's out of a job. It's just me, Rusty McJackoff." I could see that he was down on his luck, so I walked over to him and went down to one knee. "There's nobody here who wants to drown my blasphemous soul in lakes of fire?" I could see his eyes light up, literally, flames appeared in his eyes, but it was to no avail. "He's dead." Satan threw his harmonica yards into the distance and crossed his arms. "I bet he's here. He's just...out of practice." Satan narrowed his eyes and stuck his claw out at me, "You gonna leave like the rest of 'um?" I put my hands in my pockets and shrugged my shoulders, "Well, most of the people who I can't stand are in Heaven. And if I'm the only one here, maybe we can be friends for eternity." Satan disappeared in a cloud of smoke then reappeared in front of me, in a fine demonic suit and with a red pitch fork. "I still have to torture your soul, but we can hang out. I can promote you to demon if things go well." "I had a feeling you'd say that. Eh, that's fine." Satan looked at me and smiled, "Wow, you are a great guy, why did you even get sent here?" I sighed, "I'm gay and Jewish." Satan rolled his eyes, "You know that's bullshit. Let me check your sins...Wow, I'm impressed. Murder seems to be your favorite." "Eh, it's a living." I grin from ear to ear. We both high five. End.	I felt an intense, white hot pain, and then: nothing. There was nothing but total darkness. The feeling slowly returned to my limbs, and I was able to open my eyes. Still: total darkness. I landed, wherever I was, on my hands and knees. The ground beneath me was gritty feeling, almost rocky. I'd already scraped my hands, and my knees ached from the impact of landing. I slowly brought myself up to my hands and knees. Where am I? I thought. It's so dark, a little frightened voice inside of me said. But a much larger terror washed over me as it all came rushing back to me: the river, my overalls snagging on a tree branch, hitting my head on a rock and then...darkness. My summer of fun ended in tragedy. And now I was here, alone, in the dark. I knew the only thing that I could do is move forward until I found some kind of source of light. As I trudged forward, I tripped over the rocks under my feet. I must be in some kind of cave, I thought. I've never seen anywhere so dark. As I continued to move, I began to see a small pinprick of light. Hope blossomed in my chest: there was a way out of here. I started running towards the light, and then, tripping over myself one last time, I fell over a chasm, into the light, and landed facefirst in a room. The first thing I noticed about the room: it was empty. And it was hot. I was from Georgia, originally, so I knew what heat was. But it was ten times as hot as a humid Georgia summer day. As I felt myself beginning to sweat, I looked around me and noticed that the room was bare, save for a table and a chair. The sound of a harmonica floated through the air, a haunting, dissonant melody. A melody I found eerily familiar. That small point of confusion over the sound dissolved quickly as I turned to literally face the music. My face contorted with rage at what I saw. It was him. My greatest enemy. The enemy I knew I would one day have to face again. Playing...a harmonica? The evil creature who beat me, the greatest fiddle player in Georgia, the boy who saved his home state from pure evil...was playing the HARMONICA? I could barely utter a syllable as he sat there placidly, playing. But the ungodly rage that I felt suddenly exploded and I uttered just one word: "You." The devil stopped playing the harmonica and met my eyes with his own fire-filled ones. "Me." We stared at each other for a long moment. I was tempted to pull out my fiddle and start waving it in his face, but I realized i'd left it back on the river bank on that lazy afternoon. Foolish, really, to leave a golden fiddle on a river bank. But we were trustworthy folk, in Georgia. And i'd already met my greatest enemy. "What am I doin' here? I thought I chased you away for good." The devil leveled his gaze at me, and spoke in a low voice. "We aren't in Georgia anymore, boy." A new realization washed over me, and I knew he was exactly right. "Then we're in your house now, huh?" "That would be correct." As I noticed how empty it was, I gathered the courage to ask a question. "Then how come nobody's here?" The devil stared at me and said, "I don't have to tell you anything." I stood and waited for a beat. Then, more hesitantly, the devil rumbled, "They're all gone. My righteous and merciful Father let them go to Heaven. You can go too. Get out." I was astonished at that. God, letting all of the sinners go to Heaven? The devil telling me to leave? That seemed uncharacteristic of what I knew of him, of the both of them, really. Years ago, when he challenged me to a fiddlin' duel, my soul for a golden fiddle, he seemed like he would do anything to get my soul, and the souls of my fellow Georgians to boot. I didn't know what to think about the fact that he was no longer in charge of souls period. After a few more beats of silence and me looking at the devil's disgruntled face (which looked like how you would think the devil would look), I realized I didn't like that answer. I didn't like being told where to go, especially by the devil. And I found it suspicious that the souls were all gone. Not even God had kept many tabs on me, as he'd never come down to earth to check on me and figure out how i'd lived so long. But apparently God had changed the rules, or the devil had, and I didn't like what that might mean for me. Or how i'd gotten here when everyone was going to heaven now. Slowly, as I stood there staring down the devil, an idea formed. A really stupid idea, one I hadn't had since that fiddlin' duel 100 years ago. "Alright, devil. I don't know what you're up to, but I don't like it. You say there's nobody down here 'cause God says so? Well you and me, we're gonna go see God. I think it's about time I gave him a talkin' too anyway." The devil continued to sit where he was. He didn't like being ordered around, either. He said, "I'm not moving. I quite like it down here without all the noise. Gives me a chance to focus on my music." But I could tell that he was lying. He missed being able to torture all those souls, and there was a hunger in his eyes which couldn't be sated. "Oh no, you don't, you slippery old...devil," I finished lamely. "You're comin' with me." I moved to grab the devil's arm. "I wouldn't touch me if I were you, boy." I realized that might be an even stupider idea. But then: a lightbulb came on. The only way you could get the devil to do anything was to make a deal with him. And, i'll be damned, I loved makin' deals as much as he did. I stroked my nonexistent chin hair for a minute and said, "Alright, devil. If you won't move, then i'll make you deal." The devil perked up, then. I continued. "If you come with me to see God, i'll give you a rematch on that fiddle duel we had. If you win, you get the fiddle back and as many souls in Georgia as you fill up in this place. But if I win...I get to go back to Earth and live out the rest of my immortal life...do we got a deal or what?" The devil looked at me again, as a slow, sinister smile spread across his crimson face. He held out his hand to me and said, "it's a deal...Johnny."
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	There were no screams when I entered Hell. I was shocked, having been raised in a Christian family, but there were no sounds of people being tortured, no crackling of the insane demons who resided in the pits of Hell. The only sound I was the sound of a harmonica, playing a very blues-esc tune. I did what was natural to a person in an unfamiliar landscape- I followed the sound. It walked for what felt like hours searching for the source of the music. Through lakes of fire and fields of brimstone I traveled before finally seeing who- or what- was playing the harmonica. I thought I was prepared for anything. I was not prepared to see Satan, the King of Babylon himself, playing the harmonica whilst looking miserable. He had noticed me almost immediately, and stopped playing. "Why are you still here?" He had asked, his voice filled with sadness and.. something else. Was it anger? Hatred? I couldn't tell. "What do you mean? This is Hell, where the sinners go for eternal damnation. I can't leave," I replied, staring at him. I quickly jumped back when I realized that I was having a civil conversation with the Evil One. Satan sighed, and the harmonica burned to a crisp, as though it were made out of paper. "You've noticed it, haven't you? The lack of screaming, the terrifying silence, the emptyness. People- and demons- have been leaving here, escaping their eternal punishment, all due to Him offering them salvation, even after thousands of years of sins and punishment. He updated his rules, just because of His son's return to Earth," he pauses, looking out over the fields formerly filled with scores of tortured souls. "So you are saying that I am free to go to Heaven, despite having committed the horrid crimes that I have?" He nods, looking at me. "You aren't even supposed to be in here for that. What you did was self defense. The suicide afterwards is what sent you here, but yes, mortal. You may leave. All you must do is pray towards Him. It will burn, but you will be immortalized in Heaven. No leave- I will be practicing my harmonica," at this point, he sounded downright miserable. I felt bad for the devil. I pitied Lucifer, and I shouldn't. I should fear him, but he sounds so broken. Millennia of watching over the worst people that the Earth has known, undone due to a change of God's Terms of Service. I made a decision that would define me for eternity. "I have a question for you, Abaddon," He looks at me, surprised at either being addressed directly by a mortal, or being called by his Hebrew name. "You play harmonica, but, according to an old bluegrass song, you played the fiddle. Is that true?" He laughed, grinning. "Well, seems like that old contest with Johnny is famous after all. I understand that you played the fiddle when you were among the mortal plane?" I nodded. "You could probably teach me a few things though. The question is, will you?" "Of course I will. Beware though- this training will put you through Hell," he laughed, crafting two violins out of the fire surrounding us. "It's a good thing that I'm already there then, right?" And then we played.	I felt an intense, white hot pain, and then: nothing. There was nothing but total darkness. The feeling slowly returned to my limbs, and I was able to open my eyes. Still: total darkness. I landed, wherever I was, on my hands and knees. The ground beneath me was gritty feeling, almost rocky. I'd already scraped my hands, and my knees ached from the impact of landing. I slowly brought myself up to my hands and knees. Where am I? I thought. It's so dark, a little frightened voice inside of me said. But a much larger terror washed over me as it all came rushing back to me: the river, my overalls snagging on a tree branch, hitting my head on a rock and then...darkness. My summer of fun ended in tragedy. And now I was here, alone, in the dark. I knew the only thing that I could do is move forward until I found some kind of source of light. As I trudged forward, I tripped over the rocks under my feet. I must be in some kind of cave, I thought. I've never seen anywhere so dark. As I continued to move, I began to see a small pinprick of light. Hope blossomed in my chest: there was a way out of here. I started running towards the light, and then, tripping over myself one last time, I fell over a chasm, into the light, and landed facefirst in a room. The first thing I noticed about the room: it was empty. And it was hot. I was from Georgia, originally, so I knew what heat was. But it was ten times as hot as a humid Georgia summer day. As I felt myself beginning to sweat, I looked around me and noticed that the room was bare, save for a table and a chair. The sound of a harmonica floated through the air, a haunting, dissonant melody. A melody I found eerily familiar. That small point of confusion over the sound dissolved quickly as I turned to literally face the music. My face contorted with rage at what I saw. It was him. My greatest enemy. The enemy I knew I would one day have to face again. Playing...a harmonica? The evil creature who beat me, the greatest fiddle player in Georgia, the boy who saved his home state from pure evil...was playing the HARMONICA? I could barely utter a syllable as he sat there placidly, playing. But the ungodly rage that I felt suddenly exploded and I uttered just one word: "You." The devil stopped playing the harmonica and met my eyes with his own fire-filled ones. "Me." We stared at each other for a long moment. I was tempted to pull out my fiddle and start waving it in his face, but I realized i'd left it back on the river bank on that lazy afternoon. Foolish, really, to leave a golden fiddle on a river bank. But we were trustworthy folk, in Georgia. And i'd already met my greatest enemy. "What am I doin' here? I thought I chased you away for good." The devil leveled his gaze at me, and spoke in a low voice. "We aren't in Georgia anymore, boy." A new realization washed over me, and I knew he was exactly right. "Then we're in your house now, huh?" "That would be correct." As I noticed how empty it was, I gathered the courage to ask a question. "Then how come nobody's here?" The devil stared at me and said, "I don't have to tell you anything." I stood and waited for a beat. Then, more hesitantly, the devil rumbled, "They're all gone. My righteous and merciful Father let them go to Heaven. You can go too. Get out." I was astonished at that. God, letting all of the sinners go to Heaven? The devil telling me to leave? That seemed uncharacteristic of what I knew of him, of the both of them, really. Years ago, when he challenged me to a fiddlin' duel, my soul for a golden fiddle, he seemed like he would do anything to get my soul, and the souls of my fellow Georgians to boot. I didn't know what to think about the fact that he was no longer in charge of souls period. After a few more beats of silence and me looking at the devil's disgruntled face (which looked like how you would think the devil would look), I realized I didn't like that answer. I didn't like being told where to go, especially by the devil. And I found it suspicious that the souls were all gone. Not even God had kept many tabs on me, as he'd never come down to earth to check on me and figure out how i'd lived so long. But apparently God had changed the rules, or the devil had, and I didn't like what that might mean for me. Or how i'd gotten here when everyone was going to heaven now. Slowly, as I stood there staring down the devil, an idea formed. A really stupid idea, one I hadn't had since that fiddlin' duel 100 years ago. "Alright, devil. I don't know what you're up to, but I don't like it. You say there's nobody down here 'cause God says so? Well you and me, we're gonna go see God. I think it's about time I gave him a talkin' too anyway." The devil continued to sit where he was. He didn't like being ordered around, either. He said, "I'm not moving. I quite like it down here without all the noise. Gives me a chance to focus on my music." But I could tell that he was lying. He missed being able to torture all those souls, and there was a hunger in his eyes which couldn't be sated. "Oh no, you don't, you slippery old...devil," I finished lamely. "You're comin' with me." I moved to grab the devil's arm. "I wouldn't touch me if I were you, boy." I realized that might be an even stupider idea. But then: a lightbulb came on. The only way you could get the devil to do anything was to make a deal with him. And, i'll be damned, I loved makin' deals as much as he did. I stroked my nonexistent chin hair for a minute and said, "Alright, devil. If you won't move, then i'll make you deal." The devil perked up, then. I continued. "If you come with me to see God, i'll give you a rematch on that fiddle duel we had. If you win, you get the fiddle back and as many souls in Georgia as you fill up in this place. But if I win...I get to go back to Earth and live out the rest of my immortal life...do we got a deal or what?" The devil looked at me again, as a slow, sinister smile spread across his crimson face. He held out his hand to me and said, "it's a deal...Johnny."
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	All around me were the ruins of what once must have been a great city, now deserted, and devoid of any life - human or otherwise. Snowflakes kept falling from the ever-grey sky, covering the broken buildings and streets with a thin, white dusting. I shivered. In the distance someone was playing the harmonica, a sad and sorrowful tune. Walking towards the sound, I came to a building - less ruined than the others I had passed - and I noticed a faint light shining through its boarded-up windows and from under its simple, wooden front door. I knocked, then entered, trying not drag too much snow inside with my boots. The room beyond the door might once have been called cozy - bookshelves on one wall, a fire in an open fireplace on the other, a desk and some cushy chairs - but now it all looked old and worn. The harmonica's melody stopped when I entered, and the player - sitting on one of the chairs - turned his head towards me. "Ah, there you are. I was wondering when you'd show up. Please, close the door - it's rather chilly, no? - and take a seat." he spoke and motioned to the chairs. Slightly confused I did as he asked, then sat down in one of the chairs opposite his. "Who are you?" I asked "You have been waiting for me? And what is all this? Now that I think about it, I can't even recall how I got here in the first place." The man smiled a sad smile. "To answer your questions: This is Hell. Quite litterally. And I am Satan. The Devil. Lucifer. I think you get it. As to how you got here: Simple, you died, was measured and found lacking, and so you ended up here." "I died and went to Hell?" I asked incredulousy "This is Hell? Aren't there supposed to be lakes of lava or something? And I thought Satan looked different, ya know, more demonic, horns, goat feet, and so on." - I gestured at the tired looking man in his worn-out suit - "You - no offense - look rather ordinary. Also you didn't answer me why I can't remember anything." The man who claimed to be Satan sighed. "I had a looooong chat with the folks who first brought up that 'Fire and Brimstone' nonsense. Really considered going the extra mile for them, just so they could have a first-hand comparison of both experiences. And do you really want me to be horrible and scary? It's been a while - honestly I like this body better, hard to play the harmonica with claws and all - but if you insist..." For a moment I thought I saw something flicker in his eyes. I decided to err on the side of caution. "No. No need to bother. You are fine just as you are, I was just curious." The flicker disappeared. "Regarding your memory," the man continued "that is a side effect of being in Hell; you forget things - keeps the experience fresh, ya know. Though the memories of your life should come back once you leave." "Wait a minute," I interrupted him "'Once I leave'? I thought being in Hell meant that you were there for all eternity, for forever. So how is it possible for me to leave - not that I mind tough, looking outside I can imagine better places to be." "To be honest" he replied with a tired look "that is exactly the thing. 'Eternity'. 'Forever'. There have not been any new arrivals for quintillions of years, and now finally 'Everything' is over. Time and Space are over. 'Forever' is over. You have served your time, so to say." Once more he sighed "And it would be hardly fair to release you to Heaven with memories 'eternal suffering' - now don't look at me like this, it might not have been fire and brimstone, but I made sure you paid your dues and it was not pleasant. Anyway, so you forgot, and when you leave you will remember your life, good and bad, and you will remember that you paid for your sins - though not the details - so you can enjoy Heaven." I didn't know what to say, and just nodded dumbly. "So, go on," he gestured to a second door in the room - one that I could have sworn had not been there when I first entered - "go on to Heaven. I made sure you earned it - you can take my word." Getting to my feet I took a few hesitant steps toward the second door as I heard him resume playing that sad melody on his harmonica. "What about you?" I asked. He lifted the instrument from his lips and gave me a small, geniune smile. "Very kind of you to ask. But don't worry about me. As I said, I'm closing shop. This here is my penance, there might still be a few souls left, but when the last straggler has gone, I will turn out the lights and too leave through that door. Until then I pass the time with my harmonica." I nodded, and with the sound of his harmonica in my ears, stepped through the door to Heaven.	I felt an intense, white hot pain, and then: nothing. There was nothing but total darkness. The feeling slowly returned to my limbs, and I was able to open my eyes. Still: total darkness. I landed, wherever I was, on my hands and knees. The ground beneath me was gritty feeling, almost rocky. I'd already scraped my hands, and my knees ached from the impact of landing. I slowly brought myself up to my hands and knees. Where am I? I thought. It's so dark, a little frightened voice inside of me said. But a much larger terror washed over me as it all came rushing back to me: the river, my overalls snagging on a tree branch, hitting my head on a rock and then...darkness. My summer of fun ended in tragedy. And now I was here, alone, in the dark. I knew the only thing that I could do is move forward until I found some kind of source of light. As I trudged forward, I tripped over the rocks under my feet. I must be in some kind of cave, I thought. I've never seen anywhere so dark. As I continued to move, I began to see a small pinprick of light. Hope blossomed in my chest: there was a way out of here. I started running towards the light, and then, tripping over myself one last time, I fell over a chasm, into the light, and landed facefirst in a room. The first thing I noticed about the room: it was empty. And it was hot. I was from Georgia, originally, so I knew what heat was. But it was ten times as hot as a humid Georgia summer day. As I felt myself beginning to sweat, I looked around me and noticed that the room was bare, save for a table and a chair. The sound of a harmonica floated through the air, a haunting, dissonant melody. A melody I found eerily familiar. That small point of confusion over the sound dissolved quickly as I turned to literally face the music. My face contorted with rage at what I saw. It was him. My greatest enemy. The enemy I knew I would one day have to face again. Playing...a harmonica? The evil creature who beat me, the greatest fiddle player in Georgia, the boy who saved his home state from pure evil...was playing the HARMONICA? I could barely utter a syllable as he sat there placidly, playing. But the ungodly rage that I felt suddenly exploded and I uttered just one word: "You." The devil stopped playing the harmonica and met my eyes with his own fire-filled ones. "Me." We stared at each other for a long moment. I was tempted to pull out my fiddle and start waving it in his face, but I realized i'd left it back on the river bank on that lazy afternoon. Foolish, really, to leave a golden fiddle on a river bank. But we were trustworthy folk, in Georgia. And i'd already met my greatest enemy. "What am I doin' here? I thought I chased you away for good." The devil leveled his gaze at me, and spoke in a low voice. "We aren't in Georgia anymore, boy." A new realization washed over me, and I knew he was exactly right. "Then we're in your house now, huh?" "That would be correct." As I noticed how empty it was, I gathered the courage to ask a question. "Then how come nobody's here?" The devil stared at me and said, "I don't have to tell you anything." I stood and waited for a beat. Then, more hesitantly, the devil rumbled, "They're all gone. My righteous and merciful Father let them go to Heaven. You can go too. Get out." I was astonished at that. God, letting all of the sinners go to Heaven? The devil telling me to leave? That seemed uncharacteristic of what I knew of him, of the both of them, really. Years ago, when he challenged me to a fiddlin' duel, my soul for a golden fiddle, he seemed like he would do anything to get my soul, and the souls of my fellow Georgians to boot. I didn't know what to think about the fact that he was no longer in charge of souls period. After a few more beats of silence and me looking at the devil's disgruntled face (which looked like how you would think the devil would look), I realized I didn't like that answer. I didn't like being told where to go, especially by the devil. And I found it suspicious that the souls were all gone. Not even God had kept many tabs on me, as he'd never come down to earth to check on me and figure out how i'd lived so long. But apparently God had changed the rules, or the devil had, and I didn't like what that might mean for me. Or how i'd gotten here when everyone was going to heaven now. Slowly, as I stood there staring down the devil, an idea formed. A really stupid idea, one I hadn't had since that fiddlin' duel 100 years ago. "Alright, devil. I don't know what you're up to, but I don't like it. You say there's nobody down here 'cause God says so? Well you and me, we're gonna go see God. I think it's about time I gave him a talkin' too anyway." The devil continued to sit where he was. He didn't like being ordered around, either. He said, "I'm not moving. I quite like it down here without all the noise. Gives me a chance to focus on my music." But I could tell that he was lying. He missed being able to torture all those souls, and there was a hunger in his eyes which couldn't be sated. "Oh no, you don't, you slippery old...devil," I finished lamely. "You're comin' with me." I moved to grab the devil's arm. "I wouldn't touch me if I were you, boy." I realized that might be an even stupider idea. But then: a lightbulb came on. The only way you could get the devil to do anything was to make a deal with him. And, i'll be damned, I loved makin' deals as much as he did. I stroked my nonexistent chin hair for a minute and said, "Alright, devil. If you won't move, then i'll make you deal." The devil perked up, then. I continued. "If you come with me to see God, i'll give you a rematch on that fiddle duel we had. If you win, you get the fiddle back and as many souls in Georgia as you fill up in this place. But if I win...I get to go back to Earth and live out the rest of my immortal life...do we got a deal or what?" The devil looked at me again, as a slow, sinister smile spread across his crimson face. He held out his hand to me and said, "it's a deal...Johnny."
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	I step forward into a well lit bar. The place is completely empty except for Al Pachino sitting on a bar stool under a pin spot on the center stage wailing on a harmonica. I look down and I’m dressed in a perfectly tailored three piece suit, and my shoes glow in the light softened by red gels. Al is now playing hook and I feel myself being pulled toward the stage; when I’m but a few feet from it another pin spot finds me and bathes me in brilliant white light. The music stops. I look up at him and say, “Wh…” The man’s lips curl around his mouth, “Who am I?” He extended his hand and a flaming glass of liquid appeared. He blew the flame out and took a sip from the glass. “You know who I am, and you know where you are, now say it.” “I’m…I’m…” “Come on now, say it like you’ve got a pair,” He demanded. “I’m dead. There was an accident, and a fire, and I didn’t survive,” I spoke each word as if I were learning the information as I was explaining it. “So is this what, a weigh station for my next life?” Al laughed, “No, you lived your life, your one shot. Was it everything you wanted?” “No, not by a long shot. So if I don’t go on, is this heaven?” He shook his head, “Nope. You my friend are in hell, and me? I’m the Devil, Satan, Lucifer, so on and so on.” “Al Pachino isn’t even dead yet… wait, why the fuck am I in hell?” I yelled as my emotions shifted from confused to angry. He sighed and snapped his fingers turning into the Robot Devil from futurama, “Is this better?” He snapped again and flashed over to a more standard, red pitchfork wielding redheaded woman. “How about this?” “Fine, you’re the Devil, I’m in hell, the question is why?” “You didn’t believe in anything. None of the religions are right, but you didn’t believe in any of them, or anything. You didn’t have to believe in the dogma of the religion, but Bill wanted you to believe in him.” “Fuck, so I’m stuck here, for an eternity? Where is Hitler, Stalin, Bea Arthur? Why is it so empty in here? Wait, Bill?” I shook my head in disbelief. “Yeah, god’s name is Bill. The reason it’s empty in here is because if you believe in Bill you take the express lane over there, straight to whatever version of heaven you can imagine.” “So, Bill sent me to hell because I didn’t believe in him. That sounds a little spiteful, right? What are you in for?” “You’re familiar with the gatekeeper?” The beautiful woman asked. “Dana from Ghostbusters, Sigourney Weaver?” I asked. The woman faded into Zuul then jumped off the stage to stand in front of me and in that voice asked, “Are you a god?” Instantly she began to laugh. I laughed just as hard and then said, “Ray, when someone asks if you’re a god, you say yes!” I slapped her on the shoulder and laughed some more. Zuul faded into a man with a long flowing white beard holding a scroll and quill pen, in front of us on the stage gates began to form from the shadows. “I was thinking more like Saint Peter. That’s more or less who I am. I am the gatekeeper between the world you came from and the afterlife. “ “Does everyone get in?” I asked. “Most, but there are a few who don’t feel they’re ready, or some that are so paranoid they expect it to be a test. So they just sit here praying silently to themselves.” I glanced around the bar and said, “But we’re alone.” “Are we?” The old man shifted back into the form of Al Pachino and ascended back to his bar stool perch on the stage. With a wave of his hand, suddenly the bar was filled with people from all different walks of life. The bar now had a young topless woman. her arms tattooed in full sleeves behind the counter drinking liquid in and spiting it out across an open flame, a bright orange fireball passed over the bar. The people sitting on stools ducked and instinctively before sitting back up. Another table had nuns praying the rosary, next to them another group of Hasidic Jews murmured among themselves keeping nearly silent vigil. There were men in suits wandering toward me, and women in every manner of outfit from short black dress to full length ball gown. I turned back to Al and when I did the noises died down all around me as the people vanished. Al looked down at me as I looked up at him and he played a short riff on the glimmering harmonica, and when he finished he said, “Do you recognized Bill to be your creator, and responsible for all that you are?” “If I did, that would mean I didn’t believe in free will. I can’t do that, I’m every bit as responsible for who I am as some absentee father figure. So no, I can’t say that.” “You do realize that you’ll be banished to this place for all eternity right?” I smiled and said, “Bring back the people, and lets get this party started. Do you take requests? How about The Devil Went Down to Georgia?” “Not that fucking song, do you think I could be beaten in a contest? I’ve been doing this for eons you think Charlie Daniels with fifty years of practice is going to beat me? Fuck that guy.”	I felt an intense, white hot pain, and then: nothing. There was nothing but total darkness. The feeling slowly returned to my limbs, and I was able to open my eyes. Still: total darkness. I landed, wherever I was, on my hands and knees. The ground beneath me was gritty feeling, almost rocky. I'd already scraped my hands, and my knees ached from the impact of landing. I slowly brought myself up to my hands and knees. Where am I? I thought. It's so dark, a little frightened voice inside of me said. But a much larger terror washed over me as it all came rushing back to me: the river, my overalls snagging on a tree branch, hitting my head on a rock and then...darkness. My summer of fun ended in tragedy. And now I was here, alone, in the dark. I knew the only thing that I could do is move forward until I found some kind of source of light. As I trudged forward, I tripped over the rocks under my feet. I must be in some kind of cave, I thought. I've never seen anywhere so dark. As I continued to move, I began to see a small pinprick of light. Hope blossomed in my chest: there was a way out of here. I started running towards the light, and then, tripping over myself one last time, I fell over a chasm, into the light, and landed facefirst in a room. The first thing I noticed about the room: it was empty. And it was hot. I was from Georgia, originally, so I knew what heat was. But it was ten times as hot as a humid Georgia summer day. As I felt myself beginning to sweat, I looked around me and noticed that the room was bare, save for a table and a chair. The sound of a harmonica floated through the air, a haunting, dissonant melody. A melody I found eerily familiar. That small point of confusion over the sound dissolved quickly as I turned to literally face the music. My face contorted with rage at what I saw. It was him. My greatest enemy. The enemy I knew I would one day have to face again. Playing...a harmonica? The evil creature who beat me, the greatest fiddle player in Georgia, the boy who saved his home state from pure evil...was playing the HARMONICA? I could barely utter a syllable as he sat there placidly, playing. But the ungodly rage that I felt suddenly exploded and I uttered just one word: "You." The devil stopped playing the harmonica and met my eyes with his own fire-filled ones. "Me." We stared at each other for a long moment. I was tempted to pull out my fiddle and start waving it in his face, but I realized i'd left it back on the river bank on that lazy afternoon. Foolish, really, to leave a golden fiddle on a river bank. But we were trustworthy folk, in Georgia. And i'd already met my greatest enemy. "What am I doin' here? I thought I chased you away for good." The devil leveled his gaze at me, and spoke in a low voice. "We aren't in Georgia anymore, boy." A new realization washed over me, and I knew he was exactly right. "Then we're in your house now, huh?" "That would be correct." As I noticed how empty it was, I gathered the courage to ask a question. "Then how come nobody's here?" The devil stared at me and said, "I don't have to tell you anything." I stood and waited for a beat. Then, more hesitantly, the devil rumbled, "They're all gone. My righteous and merciful Father let them go to Heaven. You can go too. Get out." I was astonished at that. God, letting all of the sinners go to Heaven? The devil telling me to leave? That seemed uncharacteristic of what I knew of him, of the both of them, really. Years ago, when he challenged me to a fiddlin' duel, my soul for a golden fiddle, he seemed like he would do anything to get my soul, and the souls of my fellow Georgians to boot. I didn't know what to think about the fact that he was no longer in charge of souls period. After a few more beats of silence and me looking at the devil's disgruntled face (which looked like how you would think the devil would look), I realized I didn't like that answer. I didn't like being told where to go, especially by the devil. And I found it suspicious that the souls were all gone. Not even God had kept many tabs on me, as he'd never come down to earth to check on me and figure out how i'd lived so long. But apparently God had changed the rules, or the devil had, and I didn't like what that might mean for me. Or how i'd gotten here when everyone was going to heaven now. Slowly, as I stood there staring down the devil, an idea formed. A really stupid idea, one I hadn't had since that fiddlin' duel 100 years ago. "Alright, devil. I don't know what you're up to, but I don't like it. You say there's nobody down here 'cause God says so? Well you and me, we're gonna go see God. I think it's about time I gave him a talkin' too anyway." The devil continued to sit where he was. He didn't like being ordered around, either. He said, "I'm not moving. I quite like it down here without all the noise. Gives me a chance to focus on my music." But I could tell that he was lying. He missed being able to torture all those souls, and there was a hunger in his eyes which couldn't be sated. "Oh no, you don't, you slippery old...devil," I finished lamely. "You're comin' with me." I moved to grab the devil's arm. "I wouldn't touch me if I were you, boy." I realized that might be an even stupider idea. But then: a lightbulb came on. The only way you could get the devil to do anything was to make a deal with him. And, i'll be damned, I loved makin' deals as much as he did. I stroked my nonexistent chin hair for a minute and said, "Alright, devil. If you won't move, then i'll make you deal." The devil perked up, then. I continued. "If you come with me to see God, i'll give you a rematch on that fiddle duel we had. If you win, you get the fiddle back and as many souls in Georgia as you fill up in this place. But if I win...I get to go back to Earth and live out the rest of my immortal life...do we got a deal or what?" The devil looked at me again, as a slow, sinister smile spread across his crimson face. He held out his hand to me and said, "it's a deal...Johnny."
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	The soft tones of the ancient wind instrument trailed off as the Lord of Hell finally acknowledged my presence in his domain “You…play the harmonica?” I asked, still trying to wrap my head around the features that now surrounded me. He set his harmonica down on a nearby table that was formed out of pumice, and had small trails of lava pouring out of holes in the sides quite artistically. He adjusted his position on the stool he sat upon to regard me, his amber eyes seeming to pierce right through to my soul…if I still had one. “Indeed. This particular specimen is one of the first mass-produced examples of the modern day instrument you may be familiar with. I took it from the inventor as he came through my doors. “ Satan paused for a moment, “He left it to me when he decided to ascend, it was quite unfortunate that such a gracious man ended up in my custody.” He stood up and walked over to me, placing his hand upon my shoulder . Standing over 7 feet tall and powerfully built, he was as physically imposing a figure as one would imagine the keeper of the underworld to be. “You’re free to ascend as well, human. A new judgement was passed some time ago, no longer is anyone to be enslaved against their will.” I took a step back from him, looking down I reflected on the events that brought me here. “I know. Saint Peter informed me that I was eligible for entry into heaven. I chose this place instead.” With a curious grunt, Lucifer turned around and approached a void in the wall. He waved his hand across it and, like a hologram, key events in my life flashed across the space. Scenes of battle and lust, bigotry and slander streamed endlessly like a video loop until he cast it away. He didn’t even turn to address me, “You seem to have committed no atrocities, no war crimes. A few petty misdeeds, and certainly things that would have led to your disgrace under the old system, but far from the worst I’ve seen.” I shook my head softly in agreement. “So,” Another pause as he turned to face me again, “What lead you to choose this place? You have no family down here, no friends, no lovers. They’re up there, “ he pointed towards the roof of the chamber we were in, “enjoying themselves. Awaiting you.” Another pause, and then softer, “Everyone’s up there nowadays.” It was at this time that I could finally regard him directly, “And when I was hungry, cold, and alone…I remember what that felt like. They never helped me, instead I was saved by a very kind man who had never known me before. He said that I should do the same thing whenever I was given the opportunity, but I never was able to do so. Until now.” The Devil’s gaze softened, and he sat down on the same stool that I had encountered him on. He motioned me to join him on a similar one. “It’s been a long time since I was enjoyed for my company. Tell me, what would you like to do?” Sitting next to him, I only had one request: “Tell me your story, from your side of things.”	I felt an intense, white hot pain, and then: nothing. There was nothing but total darkness. The feeling slowly returned to my limbs, and I was able to open my eyes. Still: total darkness. I landed, wherever I was, on my hands and knees. The ground beneath me was gritty feeling, almost rocky. I'd already scraped my hands, and my knees ached from the impact of landing. I slowly brought myself up to my hands and knees. Where am I? I thought. It's so dark, a little frightened voice inside of me said. But a much larger terror washed over me as it all came rushing back to me: the river, my overalls snagging on a tree branch, hitting my head on a rock and then...darkness. My summer of fun ended in tragedy. And now I was here, alone, in the dark. I knew the only thing that I could do is move forward until I found some kind of source of light. As I trudged forward, I tripped over the rocks under my feet. I must be in some kind of cave, I thought. I've never seen anywhere so dark. As I continued to move, I began to see a small pinprick of light. Hope blossomed in my chest: there was a way out of here. I started running towards the light, and then, tripping over myself one last time, I fell over a chasm, into the light, and landed facefirst in a room. The first thing I noticed about the room: it was empty. And it was hot. I was from Georgia, originally, so I knew what heat was. But it was ten times as hot as a humid Georgia summer day. As I felt myself beginning to sweat, I looked around me and noticed that the room was bare, save for a table and a chair. The sound of a harmonica floated through the air, a haunting, dissonant melody. A melody I found eerily familiar. That small point of confusion over the sound dissolved quickly as I turned to literally face the music. My face contorted with rage at what I saw. It was him. My greatest enemy. The enemy I knew I would one day have to face again. Playing...a harmonica? The evil creature who beat me, the greatest fiddle player in Georgia, the boy who saved his home state from pure evil...was playing the HARMONICA? I could barely utter a syllable as he sat there placidly, playing. But the ungodly rage that I felt suddenly exploded and I uttered just one word: "You." The devil stopped playing the harmonica and met my eyes with his own fire-filled ones. "Me." We stared at each other for a long moment. I was tempted to pull out my fiddle and start waving it in his face, but I realized i'd left it back on the river bank on that lazy afternoon. Foolish, really, to leave a golden fiddle on a river bank. But we were trustworthy folk, in Georgia. And i'd already met my greatest enemy. "What am I doin' here? I thought I chased you away for good." The devil leveled his gaze at me, and spoke in a low voice. "We aren't in Georgia anymore, boy." A new realization washed over me, and I knew he was exactly right. "Then we're in your house now, huh?" "That would be correct." As I noticed how empty it was, I gathered the courage to ask a question. "Then how come nobody's here?" The devil stared at me and said, "I don't have to tell you anything." I stood and waited for a beat. Then, more hesitantly, the devil rumbled, "They're all gone. My righteous and merciful Father let them go to Heaven. You can go too. Get out." I was astonished at that. God, letting all of the sinners go to Heaven? The devil telling me to leave? That seemed uncharacteristic of what I knew of him, of the both of them, really. Years ago, when he challenged me to a fiddlin' duel, my soul for a golden fiddle, he seemed like he would do anything to get my soul, and the souls of my fellow Georgians to boot. I didn't know what to think about the fact that he was no longer in charge of souls period. After a few more beats of silence and me looking at the devil's disgruntled face (which looked like how you would think the devil would look), I realized I didn't like that answer. I didn't like being told where to go, especially by the devil. And I found it suspicious that the souls were all gone. Not even God had kept many tabs on me, as he'd never come down to earth to check on me and figure out how i'd lived so long. But apparently God had changed the rules, or the devil had, and I didn't like what that might mean for me. Or how i'd gotten here when everyone was going to heaven now. Slowly, as I stood there staring down the devil, an idea formed. A really stupid idea, one I hadn't had since that fiddlin' duel 100 years ago. "Alright, devil. I don't know what you're up to, but I don't like it. You say there's nobody down here 'cause God says so? Well you and me, we're gonna go see God. I think it's about time I gave him a talkin' too anyway." The devil continued to sit where he was. He didn't like being ordered around, either. He said, "I'm not moving. I quite like it down here without all the noise. Gives me a chance to focus on my music." But I could tell that he was lying. He missed being able to torture all those souls, and there was a hunger in his eyes which couldn't be sated. "Oh no, you don't, you slippery old...devil," I finished lamely. "You're comin' with me." I moved to grab the devil's arm. "I wouldn't touch me if I were you, boy." I realized that might be an even stupider idea. But then: a lightbulb came on. The only way you could get the devil to do anything was to make a deal with him. And, i'll be damned, I loved makin' deals as much as he did. I stroked my nonexistent chin hair for a minute and said, "Alright, devil. If you won't move, then i'll make you deal." The devil perked up, then. I continued. "If you come with me to see God, i'll give you a rematch on that fiddle duel we had. If you win, you get the fiddle back and as many souls in Georgia as you fill up in this place. But if I win...I get to go back to Earth and live out the rest of my immortal life...do we got a deal or what?" The devil looked at me again, as a slow, sinister smile spread across his crimson face. He held out his hand to me and said, "it's a deal...Johnny."
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	I died screaming. That kind of happens when a 300lb hell cat was eating your face. But I woke up so it was a little anticlimactic. I always thought I'd be awed by what I saw on the other side, but nah the last couple years of apocalypse level jackassery beat it out of me. The landscape was a ruin of burnt trees and blackened ground. Not a shit ton different than earth. The sound of a harmonica whispered through the still air. It could have been blues, or it could have been hill billy rock. I didn't listen to either. I strolled through the barren landscape. It didn't look like there was much worry about, no people, no demons. No all the demons were on Earth, wrecking havoc and eating peoples faces. The people were, well, they weren't in hell. I followed the music to a man sitting on a stump beside a fire. I didn't think it was cold enough for a fire but it was hell so I didn't know shit. He also sucked at the harmonica. “Dude, could you not?” The man stopped playing and looked up at me. “You don't have to stay. Door out is that way.” Lo and behold there was a actual door ringed in blue fire and emitting a bright warming light. I was drawn to it like a moth to flame, but I like to make bad decisions so I stayed. “Why are you still here?” “I can't get out. I'm here for eternity.” He put down the harmonica and poked at the fire. “They found a loophole. Too much torture, too much anger, too many lawyers. They found a way out. Everything left. The souls went to heaven. The demons…” “Went to earth. It kind of fucked us too.” The devil looked a little sheepish. “I noticed.” A scream cut through the air and a body fell through the air and splattered across the burnt ground. I wondered if I arrived the same way. “Gross,” I commented. Satan shrugged. The mass quickly reformed into a man. He scrambled to his feet and ran for the bright door without even looking at us. Gotta say, he had a good idea. ”That happen a lot?” “Yep.” “Dude, you gotta stop torturing yourself. That can't be good for you.” He glared at me with flame sparked eyes. “We are in hell.” “Yeah, but you don't gotta sulk. Don't you have a castle around here or something?” He stood up growing taller and larger by the moment. “I am the Prince of Darkness, Lord of the Flies, I can make anything I should need.” I had to admit I was impressed, but really, hellcat to the face ruined me for all the other monsters. “Well, right now, Prince, I'm your only subject. So, ya know, chill.” The devil deflated and looked around. He looked sad and completely lost. “Come on, bro. Let's go to your castle and I'll show you how to make a sandwich. You could probably use a hot cocoa too.” Satan sighed. He stomped out the fire. “Yeah, alright. I don't have anything better to do.” I clapped him on the back. He'll wasn’t going to be that bad. “Oh, yeah, toss the harmonica. You gotta get a guitar if you want anyone to respect you."	There's elevator music, and then there's this fucking cacophony. Whatever the fuck was playing over the speakers, it needed to stop asap. It sounded like someone was deepthroating a harmonica while getting assfucked by a trombone. Yeah, not a pretty picture. I glanced around the cabin and saw the same disdainful looks on my companions' faces. "Literally, what the fuck man?" a young girl uttered. She couldn't have been more than 8 or 9 years old. Cradling a DS in her hand and rocking some sweet Bose headphones, she looked aptly upset with her current situation. She noticed my bewilderment and said "Oh please, not like you've never heard a kid wear before." Fuck, she was right. I blinked in approval and went about my business. As the elevator rose and rose, gently beeping as it ascended to the top, I realized that I had no fucking idea where this was going. I tapped the little girl on the shoulder and asked, "which floor is this going to?" "Are you fucking kidding me? It's going to the top you retard." "Well yes you little shit, I can see that on the panel. I'm asking you what's actually on the top floor? She leered at me with beady black eyes. I could tell that she was gradually coming closer and closer to the same confusion I had. "I... don't know." I blinked at her as if to say "who's the retard now?" She shrugged and pulled her headphones close to her ears and blasted Meghan Trainor. God, what I would give to have those noise cancellers. I turned around and surveyed the rest of my cabin. People of all demographics were crammed into this tiny 5x5 box. As I was busy marveling at what in the exact fuck I got myself into, the elevator rapidly picked up speed. The turbulence was getting noticeably larger and larger by the second. Someone must have been prairie-dogging during our ride, because it smelt like decaying human flesh mixed with year old lentils. While all this was happening by the way, the fucking music was also getting louder and louder. If there was a goddamn button on the elevator to make it stop, I would've hit that faster than Ray J hit Kim Kardashian's fine pre-pregnancy ass. Then, as if we were all crash dummies in a car hitting a brick wall, the elevator stopped abruptly. We all lurched upwards and fell back into our boots. The doors opened to reveal a tsunami of mist. I couldn't see shit, but I was quite happy with the fact that our friend's shit stained B.O. that was stinking up the cabin was replaced by the sweet smell of perfume. Huh, I've definitely smelt this before, but couldn't exactly figure out what it was. The mist began to fade and we all began to see what was outside. A bright light enveloped the cabin, but this wasn't just any plain old "white interrogation room" light. This felt like warm radiant sun. It was intoxicating, and I felt like leaning into the light to be warmed by its rays even more. I closed my eyes and drifted forward. When I exited the cabin, I took a look around. "The fuck? This looks like heaven," I said out loud. A bearded older gentleman who was sitting next to a desk said, "You're fucking right my man!" I looked at him and said "excuse me?" "Yeah dude!" He chortled as he took my name. "You must be Ben Forstmann?" "Yes, that's me. How did you..?" "Age 29, cause of death: Alcohol overdose. Man... must've been a helluva way to go buddy!" I couldn't believe what I was hearing... I was.. dead? But how? "What are you saying?" "I'm saying you're dead, and you just spent an eternity in hell. That elevator you saw there? That was a rift caused by some massive fuck up downstairs. We've been getting hordes of you lot coming up and down that street all day. You've our 500th batch today. Here, take a ticket and hop onto that spot over there." "Um.. ok." As I strode back to line, I had trouble remembering what exactly put me in this situation. "Hey old dude, why can't I remember anything?" I yelled. "Oh, yeah, when you pass into this elevator, you felt happiness for the first time since you entered the ahem nether regions. It caused a chemical reaction so significant your senses were wiped transiently. Maybe that's why you feel like you have the worst hangover in history." He was right, my head felt like Kimbo Slice hit it with a bag of bricks. I stood patiently for my turn to arrive, and as I handed over my ticket to the old guy, the fucking harmonica started up again. "Fuck, not this shit again." I turned around to see the doors of the elevator open. Expecting an empty cabin, I was surprised to see something glimmering in the sunlight. Something familiar. I walked over to see what it was, and there was that smell again.. Smelt like, perfume, maybe? I focused my eyes on the floor and started to see what it was: my wedding ring. "Must've fell out of my pocket" I uttered. I went into the cabin to pick it up, and as I was leaving the doors suddenly slammed shut. "Yo what the fuck!" I hurriedly pressed "OPEN" for what felt like another eternity, but the damn door wouldn't budge. Suddenly, the cabin started moving. "OH NO NO NO". The music kept getting louder as the cabin fell down the path it came. It must've been going 100 miles an hour, because I was definitely floating. I began to cry as I realized exactly what was happening. When the elevator finally stopped, a heatwave washed over me as i opened the doors. The music continued to blare, except now it felt like I was hearing it from outside the elevator. I tried to press close and the "TOP" button again, but it seemed broken. I figured that since I didn't have a PhD in mechanical fucking engineering, I might as well haul my ass out of this box and follow the noise. Despite what ever horror movie ever told me, I decided it was better than staying here and hoping for the elevator to work. It seemed like an endless hallway at first. It was a maroon carpet with a nice black wood finish. It smelled like cinnamon buns. For all the shit this guy got, he's at least got style. I walked closer and closer to the source of the noise, and found a tall gaut figure sitting in a big study on a chair that felt like it was 15 feet tall. "Welcome back Ben." "What the actual hell is happening? The tall figure chuckled. Good joke, I guess. "You tell me. The elevator was a glitch in the system, but before your ride we rigged it to operate on will. Nearly everyone in that cabin wanted to get out except for you. Why is that?" "What do you mean 'why is that?'! My fucking wedding ring was there in the cabin and I couldn't let it go." "Ben, did the doors shut as soon as you came into the elevator?" "Yes.." "Then you already made your decision. The elevator simply brought you back to where you wanted to be." I didn't understand what was going on. Why did I want to be back in Hell, out of all places? "Why would I put myself back here? I missed my wife and wanted my ring back." The dark figure took several long moments to ponder my answer. He looked at me, and I didn't see a face but a collection of waltzing shadows hiding what must have been the most horrid memories of my life. I felt palpable fear in my heart whenever I look that "face." "Ben, do you remember how you died?" "Some dude up there said it was a alcohol intoxication." "Yes, but that's not what I asked. Do you remember HOW you died?" I was about to answer "yes!" but I took a moment to figure it all out. I strained to remember what seemed like a laughter, a loud noise, and blackness. "I...was..." "Yes, go on..." "I was with my wife. I think we were in a car, maybe. Yes, yes, we were in a car. We were laughing and driving on the countryside underneath a beautiful sunset. It was my 29th birthday and we were on our way to see her parents for the weekend." At this point the dark figure stood up from his chair and went over to a corner. As I was narrating my story he brought out what seemed like a tall glass bottle. "I think we had a few drinks... yes, we must have been drinking. She never let me get close to her unless she had a few shots. Oh god, I shouldn't have been driving. I was already several bottles in." "Seems to me that you made a judgement call." "Yeah. We were driving down the road and I looked over at her face. 5 years of marriage to the most beautiful woman in the world. Yet, she began to resent me for whatever reason. I couldn't get her to love me like she used to. Like she used to before I started drinking..." The figure took out a glass. "As we were winding around a corner, I didn't see the truck coming. A big red truck, like those firetrucks I used to play with when I was younger. Seemed like time slowed down as I fought against the steering wheel. Unfortunately, it didn't slow down fucking enough..." I began to cry as I recalled it. My stupid fucking ego couldn't take it that I couldn't drive drunk that day. She insisted on calling a cab, but I told her that I was good to go and that it was my birthday and she should let me do something fun for once. She looked at me with sadness in her eyes and eventually let in. That would be the last time she would ever look at me with pity. "I had a problem. Haven't been able to put down the bottle since graduation. My life hasn't been the same since. Everyone else has moved onto big careers and families, and I'm stuck her with a wife and a mortgage I can't pay since I got laid off. I lied to her about those AA meetings. I'm sorry. I have a problem." The figure took a moment before speaking. "Did you come back here to get your ring because you missed your wife or...?" I was silent. "Have a seat over there Ben." I sat down. The figure strode forward and handed me a glass. "It'll be all right. You'll never leave me again will you?" "No.... No I won't."
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	>Oh God damnit! I spun around confused. Just moments earlier I'd been walking down the street, and now I was in a cold, dark, lifeless...abyss. Before me was terror incarnate. Black horns over a foot long sprung from the stranger's red face. Well, red everything. This had to be Satan. The giant figure sighed, sat down a harmonica, and stood. >Just when I finally...sigh...welcome to Hell, darkness and everlasting torment...whatever. I am the dark one, Satan. Not knowing what to say I offered a meager head nod. Should I bow? >No, don't bow. Just prepare yourself for pain and terror for the rest of eternity. I felt myself starting to panic, looking around for escape or help. The realization hit me I'm all alone with the most evil creature ever brought into creation. And apparently the bastard can read my thoughts. Wait, why am I alone with...it? Where is everyone? >Yes, that's right. It's just you and me. And I will make you suffer. But before we begin I must warn you. Whatever you do, DO NOT go through the door marked exit. An exit? In Hell? Should I try... >Oh no, don't, stop, I'm warning you. Without thinking another moment I sprinted towards the door. Satan didn't even give chase. As I pulled the door open a blinding, white light sprung through. >Oh no, another one got away. Well, guess I'll just enjoy a little peace and quiet. As the door shut behind me all I could hear was stilted harmonica music interspersed with booming laughter.	There's elevator music, and then there's this fucking cacophony. Whatever the fuck was playing over the speakers, it needed to stop asap. It sounded like someone was deepthroating a harmonica while getting assfucked by a trombone. Yeah, not a pretty picture. I glanced around the cabin and saw the same disdainful looks on my companions' faces. "Literally, what the fuck man?" a young girl uttered. She couldn't have been more than 8 or 9 years old. Cradling a DS in her hand and rocking some sweet Bose headphones, she looked aptly upset with her current situation. She noticed my bewilderment and said "Oh please, not like you've never heard a kid wear before." Fuck, she was right. I blinked in approval and went about my business. As the elevator rose and rose, gently beeping as it ascended to the top, I realized that I had no fucking idea where this was going. I tapped the little girl on the shoulder and asked, "which floor is this going to?" "Are you fucking kidding me? It's going to the top you retard." "Well yes you little shit, I can see that on the panel. I'm asking you what's actually on the top floor? She leered at me with beady black eyes. I could tell that she was gradually coming closer and closer to the same confusion I had. "I... don't know." I blinked at her as if to say "who's the retard now?" She shrugged and pulled her headphones close to her ears and blasted Meghan Trainor. God, what I would give to have those noise cancellers. I turned around and surveyed the rest of my cabin. People of all demographics were crammed into this tiny 5x5 box. As I was busy marveling at what in the exact fuck I got myself into, the elevator rapidly picked up speed. The turbulence was getting noticeably larger and larger by the second. Someone must have been prairie-dogging during our ride, because it smelt like decaying human flesh mixed with year old lentils. While all this was happening by the way, the fucking music was also getting louder and louder. If there was a goddamn button on the elevator to make it stop, I would've hit that faster than Ray J hit Kim Kardashian's fine pre-pregnancy ass. Then, as if we were all crash dummies in a car hitting a brick wall, the elevator stopped abruptly. We all lurched upwards and fell back into our boots. The doors opened to reveal a tsunami of mist. I couldn't see shit, but I was quite happy with the fact that our friend's shit stained B.O. that was stinking up the cabin was replaced by the sweet smell of perfume. Huh, I've definitely smelt this before, but couldn't exactly figure out what it was. The mist began to fade and we all began to see what was outside. A bright light enveloped the cabin, but this wasn't just any plain old "white interrogation room" light. This felt like warm radiant sun. It was intoxicating, and I felt like leaning into the light to be warmed by its rays even more. I closed my eyes and drifted forward. When I exited the cabin, I took a look around. "The fuck? This looks like heaven," I said out loud. A bearded older gentleman who was sitting next to a desk said, "You're fucking right my man!" I looked at him and said "excuse me?" "Yeah dude!" He chortled as he took my name. "You must be Ben Forstmann?" "Yes, that's me. How did you..?" "Age 29, cause of death: Alcohol overdose. Man... must've been a helluva way to go buddy!" I couldn't believe what I was hearing... I was.. dead? But how? "What are you saying?" "I'm saying you're dead, and you just spent an eternity in hell. That elevator you saw there? That was a rift caused by some massive fuck up downstairs. We've been getting hordes of you lot coming up and down that street all day. You've our 500th batch today. Here, take a ticket and hop onto that spot over there." "Um.. ok." As I strode back to line, I had trouble remembering what exactly put me in this situation. "Hey old dude, why can't I remember anything?" I yelled. "Oh, yeah, when you pass into this elevator, you felt happiness for the first time since you entered the ahem nether regions. It caused a chemical reaction so significant your senses were wiped transiently. Maybe that's why you feel like you have the worst hangover in history." He was right, my head felt like Kimbo Slice hit it with a bag of bricks. I stood patiently for my turn to arrive, and as I handed over my ticket to the old guy, the fucking harmonica started up again. "Fuck, not this shit again." I turned around to see the doors of the elevator open. Expecting an empty cabin, I was surprised to see something glimmering in the sunlight. Something familiar. I walked over to see what it was, and there was that smell again.. Smelt like, perfume, maybe? I focused my eyes on the floor and started to see what it was: my wedding ring. "Must've fell out of my pocket" I uttered. I went into the cabin to pick it up, and as I was leaving the doors suddenly slammed shut. "Yo what the fuck!" I hurriedly pressed "OPEN" for what felt like another eternity, but the damn door wouldn't budge. Suddenly, the cabin started moving. "OH NO NO NO". The music kept getting louder as the cabin fell down the path it came. It must've been going 100 miles an hour, because I was definitely floating. I began to cry as I realized exactly what was happening. When the elevator finally stopped, a heatwave washed over me as i opened the doors. The music continued to blare, except now it felt like I was hearing it from outside the elevator. I tried to press close and the "TOP" button again, but it seemed broken. I figured that since I didn't have a PhD in mechanical fucking engineering, I might as well haul my ass out of this box and follow the noise. Despite what ever horror movie ever told me, I decided it was better than staying here and hoping for the elevator to work. It seemed like an endless hallway at first. It was a maroon carpet with a nice black wood finish. It smelled like cinnamon buns. For all the shit this guy got, he's at least got style. I walked closer and closer to the source of the noise, and found a tall gaut figure sitting in a big study on a chair that felt like it was 15 feet tall. "Welcome back Ben." "What the actual hell is happening? The tall figure chuckled. Good joke, I guess. "You tell me. The elevator was a glitch in the system, but before your ride we rigged it to operate on will. Nearly everyone in that cabin wanted to get out except for you. Why is that?" "What do you mean 'why is that?'! My fucking wedding ring was there in the cabin and I couldn't let it go." "Ben, did the doors shut as soon as you came into the elevator?" "Yes.." "Then you already made your decision. The elevator simply brought you back to where you wanted to be." I didn't understand what was going on. Why did I want to be back in Hell, out of all places? "Why would I put myself back here? I missed my wife and wanted my ring back." The dark figure took several long moments to ponder my answer. He looked at me, and I didn't see a face but a collection of waltzing shadows hiding what must have been the most horrid memories of my life. I felt palpable fear in my heart whenever I look that "face." "Ben, do you remember how you died?" "Some dude up there said it was a alcohol intoxication." "Yes, but that's not what I asked. Do you remember HOW you died?" I was about to answer "yes!" but I took a moment to figure it all out. I strained to remember what seemed like a laughter, a loud noise, and blackness. "I...was..." "Yes, go on..." "I was with my wife. I think we were in a car, maybe. Yes, yes, we were in a car. We were laughing and driving on the countryside underneath a beautiful sunset. It was my 29th birthday and we were on our way to see her parents for the weekend." At this point the dark figure stood up from his chair and went over to a corner. As I was narrating my story he brought out what seemed like a tall glass bottle. "I think we had a few drinks... yes, we must have been drinking. She never let me get close to her unless she had a few shots. Oh god, I shouldn't have been driving. I was already several bottles in." "Seems to me that you made a judgement call." "Yeah. We were driving down the road and I looked over at her face. 5 years of marriage to the most beautiful woman in the world. Yet, she began to resent me for whatever reason. I couldn't get her to love me like she used to. Like she used to before I started drinking..." The figure took out a glass. "As we were winding around a corner, I didn't see the truck coming. A big red truck, like those firetrucks I used to play with when I was younger. Seemed like time slowed down as I fought against the steering wheel. Unfortunately, it didn't slow down fucking enough..." I began to cry as I recalled it. My stupid fucking ego couldn't take it that I couldn't drive drunk that day. She insisted on calling a cab, but I told her that I was good to go and that it was my birthday and she should let me do something fun for once. She looked at me with sadness in her eyes and eventually let in. That would be the last time she would ever look at me with pity. "I had a problem. Haven't been able to put down the bottle since graduation. My life hasn't been the same since. Everyone else has moved onto big careers and families, and I'm stuck her with a wife and a mortgage I can't pay since I got laid off. I lied to her about those AA meetings. I'm sorry. I have a problem." The figure took a moment before speaking. "Did you come back here to get your ring because you missed your wife or...?" I was silent. "Have a seat over there Ben." I sat down. The figure strode forward and handed me a glass. "It'll be all right. You'll never leave me again will you?" "No.... No I won't."
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	"Hello?" I called out into a seemingly endless abyss. I heard a weepy wobbly minor chord play on a harmonica behind me. There, in front of my own two eyes was the lord of darkness himself, slouched back on a rocking chair playing the blues. I trembled in his presence but noticed he was unamused by me. "Um, hi." I said quietly. He spat what appeared to be lava into a spittoon that seemingly constituted itself. "What you want?" He said in a low charred voice. "Are you...the devil?" "You mean the ruler of the underworld, Diablo, king of the damned, foulest of the foul? "Yeah him." "That guy hasn't been around here for a while, looks like nobody needs him anymore. He's out of a job. It's just me, Rusty McJackoff." I could see that he was down on his luck, so I walked over to him and went down to one knee. "There's nobody here who wants to drown my blasphemous soul in lakes of fire?" I could see his eyes light up, literally, flames appeared in his eyes, but it was to no avail. "He's dead." Satan threw his harmonica yards into the distance and crossed his arms. "I bet he's here. He's just...out of practice." Satan narrowed his eyes and stuck his claw out at me, "You gonna leave like the rest of 'um?" I put my hands in my pockets and shrugged my shoulders, "Well, most of the people who I can't stand are in Heaven. And if I'm the only one here, maybe we can be friends for eternity." Satan disappeared in a cloud of smoke then reappeared in front of me, in a fine demonic suit and with a red pitch fork. "I still have to torture your soul, but we can hang out. I can promote you to demon if things go well." "I had a feeling you'd say that. Eh, that's fine." Satan looked at me and smiled, "Wow, you are a great guy, why did you even get sent here?" I sighed, "I'm gay and Jewish." Satan rolled his eyes, "You know that's bullshit. Let me check your sins...Wow, I'm impressed. Murder seems to be your favorite." "Eh, it's a living." I grin from ear to ear. We both high five. End.	There's elevator music, and then there's this fucking cacophony. Whatever the fuck was playing over the speakers, it needed to stop asap. It sounded like someone was deepthroating a harmonica while getting assfucked by a trombone. Yeah, not a pretty picture. I glanced around the cabin and saw the same disdainful looks on my companions' faces. "Literally, what the fuck man?" a young girl uttered. She couldn't have been more than 8 or 9 years old. Cradling a DS in her hand and rocking some sweet Bose headphones, she looked aptly upset with her current situation. She noticed my bewilderment and said "Oh please, not like you've never heard a kid wear before." Fuck, she was right. I blinked in approval and went about my business. As the elevator rose and rose, gently beeping as it ascended to the top, I realized that I had no fucking idea where this was going. I tapped the little girl on the shoulder and asked, "which floor is this going to?" "Are you fucking kidding me? It's going to the top you retard." "Well yes you little shit, I can see that on the panel. I'm asking you what's actually on the top floor? She leered at me with beady black eyes. I could tell that she was gradually coming closer and closer to the same confusion I had. "I... don't know." I blinked at her as if to say "who's the retard now?" She shrugged and pulled her headphones close to her ears and blasted Meghan Trainor. God, what I would give to have those noise cancellers. I turned around and surveyed the rest of my cabin. People of all demographics were crammed into this tiny 5x5 box. As I was busy marveling at what in the exact fuck I got myself into, the elevator rapidly picked up speed. The turbulence was getting noticeably larger and larger by the second. Someone must have been prairie-dogging during our ride, because it smelt like decaying human flesh mixed with year old lentils. While all this was happening by the way, the fucking music was also getting louder and louder. If there was a goddamn button on the elevator to make it stop, I would've hit that faster than Ray J hit Kim Kardashian's fine pre-pregnancy ass. Then, as if we were all crash dummies in a car hitting a brick wall, the elevator stopped abruptly. We all lurched upwards and fell back into our boots. The doors opened to reveal a tsunami of mist. I couldn't see shit, but I was quite happy with the fact that our friend's shit stained B.O. that was stinking up the cabin was replaced by the sweet smell of perfume. Huh, I've definitely smelt this before, but couldn't exactly figure out what it was. The mist began to fade and we all began to see what was outside. A bright light enveloped the cabin, but this wasn't just any plain old "white interrogation room" light. This felt like warm radiant sun. It was intoxicating, and I felt like leaning into the light to be warmed by its rays even more. I closed my eyes and drifted forward. When I exited the cabin, I took a look around. "The fuck? This looks like heaven," I said out loud. A bearded older gentleman who was sitting next to a desk said, "You're fucking right my man!" I looked at him and said "excuse me?" "Yeah dude!" He chortled as he took my name. "You must be Ben Forstmann?" "Yes, that's me. How did you..?" "Age 29, cause of death: Alcohol overdose. Man... must've been a helluva way to go buddy!" I couldn't believe what I was hearing... I was.. dead? But how? "What are you saying?" "I'm saying you're dead, and you just spent an eternity in hell. That elevator you saw there? That was a rift caused by some massive fuck up downstairs. We've been getting hordes of you lot coming up and down that street all day. You've our 500th batch today. Here, take a ticket and hop onto that spot over there." "Um.. ok." As I strode back to line, I had trouble remembering what exactly put me in this situation. "Hey old dude, why can't I remember anything?" I yelled. "Oh, yeah, when you pass into this elevator, you felt happiness for the first time since you entered the ahem nether regions. It caused a chemical reaction so significant your senses were wiped transiently. Maybe that's why you feel like you have the worst hangover in history." He was right, my head felt like Kimbo Slice hit it with a bag of bricks. I stood patiently for my turn to arrive, and as I handed over my ticket to the old guy, the fucking harmonica started up again. "Fuck, not this shit again." I turned around to see the doors of the elevator open. Expecting an empty cabin, I was surprised to see something glimmering in the sunlight. Something familiar. I walked over to see what it was, and there was that smell again.. Smelt like, perfume, maybe? I focused my eyes on the floor and started to see what it was: my wedding ring. "Must've fell out of my pocket" I uttered. I went into the cabin to pick it up, and as I was leaving the doors suddenly slammed shut. "Yo what the fuck!" I hurriedly pressed "OPEN" for what felt like another eternity, but the damn door wouldn't budge. Suddenly, the cabin started moving. "OH NO NO NO". The music kept getting louder as the cabin fell down the path it came. It must've been going 100 miles an hour, because I was definitely floating. I began to cry as I realized exactly what was happening. When the elevator finally stopped, a heatwave washed over me as i opened the doors. The music continued to blare, except now it felt like I was hearing it from outside the elevator. I tried to press close and the "TOP" button again, but it seemed broken. I figured that since I didn't have a PhD in mechanical fucking engineering, I might as well haul my ass out of this box and follow the noise. Despite what ever horror movie ever told me, I decided it was better than staying here and hoping for the elevator to work. It seemed like an endless hallway at first. It was a maroon carpet with a nice black wood finish. It smelled like cinnamon buns. For all the shit this guy got, he's at least got style. I walked closer and closer to the source of the noise, and found a tall gaut figure sitting in a big study on a chair that felt like it was 15 feet tall. "Welcome back Ben." "What the actual hell is happening? The tall figure chuckled. Good joke, I guess. "You tell me. The elevator was a glitch in the system, but before your ride we rigged it to operate on will. Nearly everyone in that cabin wanted to get out except for you. Why is that?" "What do you mean 'why is that?'! My fucking wedding ring was there in the cabin and I couldn't let it go." "Ben, did the doors shut as soon as you came into the elevator?" "Yes.." "Then you already made your decision. The elevator simply brought you back to where you wanted to be." I didn't understand what was going on. Why did I want to be back in Hell, out of all places? "Why would I put myself back here? I missed my wife and wanted my ring back." The dark figure took several long moments to ponder my answer. He looked at me, and I didn't see a face but a collection of waltzing shadows hiding what must have been the most horrid memories of my life. I felt palpable fear in my heart whenever I look that "face." "Ben, do you remember how you died?" "Some dude up there said it was a alcohol intoxication." "Yes, but that's not what I asked. Do you remember HOW you died?" I was about to answer "yes!" but I took a moment to figure it all out. I strained to remember what seemed like a laughter, a loud noise, and blackness. "I...was..." "Yes, go on..." "I was with my wife. I think we were in a car, maybe. Yes, yes, we were in a car. We were laughing and driving on the countryside underneath a beautiful sunset. It was my 29th birthday and we were on our way to see her parents for the weekend." At this point the dark figure stood up from his chair and went over to a corner. As I was narrating my story he brought out what seemed like a tall glass bottle. "I think we had a few drinks... yes, we must have been drinking. She never let me get close to her unless she had a few shots. Oh god, I shouldn't have been driving. I was already several bottles in." "Seems to me that you made a judgement call." "Yeah. We were driving down the road and I looked over at her face. 5 years of marriage to the most beautiful woman in the world. Yet, she began to resent me for whatever reason. I couldn't get her to love me like she used to. Like she used to before I started drinking..." The figure took out a glass. "As we were winding around a corner, I didn't see the truck coming. A big red truck, like those firetrucks I used to play with when I was younger. Seemed like time slowed down as I fought against the steering wheel. Unfortunately, it didn't slow down fucking enough..." I began to cry as I recalled it. My stupid fucking ego couldn't take it that I couldn't drive drunk that day. She insisted on calling a cab, but I told her that I was good to go and that it was my birthday and she should let me do something fun for once. She looked at me with sadness in her eyes and eventually let in. That would be the last time she would ever look at me with pity. "I had a problem. Haven't been able to put down the bottle since graduation. My life hasn't been the same since. Everyone else has moved onto big careers and families, and I'm stuck her with a wife and a mortgage I can't pay since I got laid off. I lied to her about those AA meetings. I'm sorry. I have a problem." The figure took a moment before speaking. "Did you come back here to get your ring because you missed your wife or...?" I was silent. "Have a seat over there Ben." I sat down. The figure strode forward and handed me a glass. "It'll be all right. You'll never leave me again will you?" "No.... No I won't."
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	There were no screams when I entered Hell. I was shocked, having been raised in a Christian family, but there were no sounds of people being tortured, no crackling of the insane demons who resided in the pits of Hell. The only sound I was the sound of a harmonica, playing a very blues-esc tune. I did what was natural to a person in an unfamiliar landscape- I followed the sound. It walked for what felt like hours searching for the source of the music. Through lakes of fire and fields of brimstone I traveled before finally seeing who- or what- was playing the harmonica. I thought I was prepared for anything. I was not prepared to see Satan, the King of Babylon himself, playing the harmonica whilst looking miserable. He had noticed me almost immediately, and stopped playing. "Why are you still here?" He had asked, his voice filled with sadness and.. something else. Was it anger? Hatred? I couldn't tell. "What do you mean? This is Hell, where the sinners go for eternal damnation. I can't leave," I replied, staring at him. I quickly jumped back when I realized that I was having a civil conversation with the Evil One. Satan sighed, and the harmonica burned to a crisp, as though it were made out of paper. "You've noticed it, haven't you? The lack of screaming, the terrifying silence, the emptyness. People- and demons- have been leaving here, escaping their eternal punishment, all due to Him offering them salvation, even after thousands of years of sins and punishment. He updated his rules, just because of His son's return to Earth," he pauses, looking out over the fields formerly filled with scores of tortured souls. "So you are saying that I am free to go to Heaven, despite having committed the horrid crimes that I have?" He nods, looking at me. "You aren't even supposed to be in here for that. What you did was self defense. The suicide afterwards is what sent you here, but yes, mortal. You may leave. All you must do is pray towards Him. It will burn, but you will be immortalized in Heaven. No leave- I will be practicing my harmonica," at this point, he sounded downright miserable. I felt bad for the devil. I pitied Lucifer, and I shouldn't. I should fear him, but he sounds so broken. Millennia of watching over the worst people that the Earth has known, undone due to a change of God's Terms of Service. I made a decision that would define me for eternity. "I have a question for you, Abaddon," He looks at me, surprised at either being addressed directly by a mortal, or being called by his Hebrew name. "You play harmonica, but, according to an old bluegrass song, you played the fiddle. Is that true?" He laughed, grinning. "Well, seems like that old contest with Johnny is famous after all. I understand that you played the fiddle when you were among the mortal plane?" I nodded. "You could probably teach me a few things though. The question is, will you?" "Of course I will. Beware though- this training will put you through Hell," he laughed, crafting two violins out of the fire surrounding us. "It's a good thing that I'm already there then, right?" And then we played.	There's elevator music, and then there's this fucking cacophony. Whatever the fuck was playing over the speakers, it needed to stop asap. It sounded like someone was deepthroating a harmonica while getting assfucked by a trombone. Yeah, not a pretty picture. I glanced around the cabin and saw the same disdainful looks on my companions' faces. "Literally, what the fuck man?" a young girl uttered. She couldn't have been more than 8 or 9 years old. Cradling a DS in her hand and rocking some sweet Bose headphones, she looked aptly upset with her current situation. She noticed my bewilderment and said "Oh please, not like you've never heard a kid wear before." Fuck, she was right. I blinked in approval and went about my business. As the elevator rose and rose, gently beeping as it ascended to the top, I realized that I had no fucking idea where this was going. I tapped the little girl on the shoulder and asked, "which floor is this going to?" "Are you fucking kidding me? It's going to the top you retard." "Well yes you little shit, I can see that on the panel. I'm asking you what's actually on the top floor? She leered at me with beady black eyes. I could tell that she was gradually coming closer and closer to the same confusion I had. "I... don't know." I blinked at her as if to say "who's the retard now?" She shrugged and pulled her headphones close to her ears and blasted Meghan Trainor. God, what I would give to have those noise cancellers. I turned around and surveyed the rest of my cabin. People of all demographics were crammed into this tiny 5x5 box. As I was busy marveling at what in the exact fuck I got myself into, the elevator rapidly picked up speed. The turbulence was getting noticeably larger and larger by the second. Someone must have been prairie-dogging during our ride, because it smelt like decaying human flesh mixed with year old lentils. While all this was happening by the way, the fucking music was also getting louder and louder. If there was a goddamn button on the elevator to make it stop, I would've hit that faster than Ray J hit Kim Kardashian's fine pre-pregnancy ass. Then, as if we were all crash dummies in a car hitting a brick wall, the elevator stopped abruptly. We all lurched upwards and fell back into our boots. The doors opened to reveal a tsunami of mist. I couldn't see shit, but I was quite happy with the fact that our friend's shit stained B.O. that was stinking up the cabin was replaced by the sweet smell of perfume. Huh, I've definitely smelt this before, but couldn't exactly figure out what it was. The mist began to fade and we all began to see what was outside. A bright light enveloped the cabin, but this wasn't just any plain old "white interrogation room" light. This felt like warm radiant sun. It was intoxicating, and I felt like leaning into the light to be warmed by its rays even more. I closed my eyes and drifted forward. When I exited the cabin, I took a look around. "The fuck? This looks like heaven," I said out loud. A bearded older gentleman who was sitting next to a desk said, "You're fucking right my man!" I looked at him and said "excuse me?" "Yeah dude!" He chortled as he took my name. "You must be Ben Forstmann?" "Yes, that's me. How did you..?" "Age 29, cause of death: Alcohol overdose. Man... must've been a helluva way to go buddy!" I couldn't believe what I was hearing... I was.. dead? But how? "What are you saying?" "I'm saying you're dead, and you just spent an eternity in hell. That elevator you saw there? That was a rift caused by some massive fuck up downstairs. We've been getting hordes of you lot coming up and down that street all day. You've our 500th batch today. Here, take a ticket and hop onto that spot over there." "Um.. ok." As I strode back to line, I had trouble remembering what exactly put me in this situation. "Hey old dude, why can't I remember anything?" I yelled. "Oh, yeah, when you pass into this elevator, you felt happiness for the first time since you entered the ahem nether regions. It caused a chemical reaction so significant your senses were wiped transiently. Maybe that's why you feel like you have the worst hangover in history." He was right, my head felt like Kimbo Slice hit it with a bag of bricks. I stood patiently for my turn to arrive, and as I handed over my ticket to the old guy, the fucking harmonica started up again. "Fuck, not this shit again." I turned around to see the doors of the elevator open. Expecting an empty cabin, I was surprised to see something glimmering in the sunlight. Something familiar. I walked over to see what it was, and there was that smell again.. Smelt like, perfume, maybe? I focused my eyes on the floor and started to see what it was: my wedding ring. "Must've fell out of my pocket" I uttered. I went into the cabin to pick it up, and as I was leaving the doors suddenly slammed shut. "Yo what the fuck!" I hurriedly pressed "OPEN" for what felt like another eternity, but the damn door wouldn't budge. Suddenly, the cabin started moving. "OH NO NO NO". The music kept getting louder as the cabin fell down the path it came. It must've been going 100 miles an hour, because I was definitely floating. I began to cry as I realized exactly what was happening. When the elevator finally stopped, a heatwave washed over me as i opened the doors. The music continued to blare, except now it felt like I was hearing it from outside the elevator. I tried to press close and the "TOP" button again, but it seemed broken. I figured that since I didn't have a PhD in mechanical fucking engineering, I might as well haul my ass out of this box and follow the noise. Despite what ever horror movie ever told me, I decided it was better than staying here and hoping for the elevator to work. It seemed like an endless hallway at first. It was a maroon carpet with a nice black wood finish. It smelled like cinnamon buns. For all the shit this guy got, he's at least got style. I walked closer and closer to the source of the noise, and found a tall gaut figure sitting in a big study on a chair that felt like it was 15 feet tall. "Welcome back Ben." "What the actual hell is happening? The tall figure chuckled. Good joke, I guess. "You tell me. The elevator was a glitch in the system, but before your ride we rigged it to operate on will. Nearly everyone in that cabin wanted to get out except for you. Why is that?" "What do you mean 'why is that?'! My fucking wedding ring was there in the cabin and I couldn't let it go." "Ben, did the doors shut as soon as you came into the elevator?" "Yes.." "Then you already made your decision. The elevator simply brought you back to where you wanted to be." I didn't understand what was going on. Why did I want to be back in Hell, out of all places? "Why would I put myself back here? I missed my wife and wanted my ring back." The dark figure took several long moments to ponder my answer. He looked at me, and I didn't see a face but a collection of waltzing shadows hiding what must have been the most horrid memories of my life. I felt palpable fear in my heart whenever I look that "face." "Ben, do you remember how you died?" "Some dude up there said it was a alcohol intoxication." "Yes, but that's not what I asked. Do you remember HOW you died?" I was about to answer "yes!" but I took a moment to figure it all out. I strained to remember what seemed like a laughter, a loud noise, and blackness. "I...was..." "Yes, go on..." "I was with my wife. I think we were in a car, maybe. Yes, yes, we were in a car. We were laughing and driving on the countryside underneath a beautiful sunset. It was my 29th birthday and we were on our way to see her parents for the weekend." At this point the dark figure stood up from his chair and went over to a corner. As I was narrating my story he brought out what seemed like a tall glass bottle. "I think we had a few drinks... yes, we must have been drinking. She never let me get close to her unless she had a few shots. Oh god, I shouldn't have been driving. I was already several bottles in." "Seems to me that you made a judgement call." "Yeah. We were driving down the road and I looked over at her face. 5 years of marriage to the most beautiful woman in the world. Yet, she began to resent me for whatever reason. I couldn't get her to love me like she used to. Like she used to before I started drinking..." The figure took out a glass. "As we were winding around a corner, I didn't see the truck coming. A big red truck, like those firetrucks I used to play with when I was younger. Seemed like time slowed down as I fought against the steering wheel. Unfortunately, it didn't slow down fucking enough..." I began to cry as I recalled it. My stupid fucking ego couldn't take it that I couldn't drive drunk that day. She insisted on calling a cab, but I told her that I was good to go and that it was my birthday and she should let me do something fun for once. She looked at me with sadness in her eyes and eventually let in. That would be the last time she would ever look at me with pity. "I had a problem. Haven't been able to put down the bottle since graduation. My life hasn't been the same since. Everyone else has moved onto big careers and families, and I'm stuck her with a wife and a mortgage I can't pay since I got laid off. I lied to her about those AA meetings. I'm sorry. I have a problem." The figure took a moment before speaking. "Did you come back here to get your ring because you missed your wife or...?" I was silent. "Have a seat over there Ben." I sat down. The figure strode forward and handed me a glass. "It'll be all right. You'll never leave me again will you?" "No.... No I won't."
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	All around me were the ruins of what once must have been a great city, now deserted, and devoid of any life - human or otherwise. Snowflakes kept falling from the ever-grey sky, covering the broken buildings and streets with a thin, white dusting. I shivered. In the distance someone was playing the harmonica, a sad and sorrowful tune. Walking towards the sound, I came to a building - less ruined than the others I had passed - and I noticed a faint light shining through its boarded-up windows and from under its simple, wooden front door. I knocked, then entered, trying not drag too much snow inside with my boots. The room beyond the door might once have been called cozy - bookshelves on one wall, a fire in an open fireplace on the other, a desk and some cushy chairs - but now it all looked old and worn. The harmonica's melody stopped when I entered, and the player - sitting on one of the chairs - turned his head towards me. "Ah, there you are. I was wondering when you'd show up. Please, close the door - it's rather chilly, no? - and take a seat." he spoke and motioned to the chairs. Slightly confused I did as he asked, then sat down in one of the chairs opposite his. "Who are you?" I asked "You have been waiting for me? And what is all this? Now that I think about it, I can't even recall how I got here in the first place." The man smiled a sad smile. "To answer your questions: This is Hell. Quite litterally. And I am Satan. The Devil. Lucifer. I think you get it. As to how you got here: Simple, you died, was measured and found lacking, and so you ended up here." "I died and went to Hell?" I asked incredulousy "This is Hell? Aren't there supposed to be lakes of lava or something? And I thought Satan looked different, ya know, more demonic, horns, goat feet, and so on." - I gestured at the tired looking man in his worn-out suit - "You - no offense - look rather ordinary. Also you didn't answer me why I can't remember anything." The man who claimed to be Satan sighed. "I had a looooong chat with the folks who first brought up that 'Fire and Brimstone' nonsense. Really considered going the extra mile for them, just so they could have a first-hand comparison of both experiences. And do you really want me to be horrible and scary? It's been a while - honestly I like this body better, hard to play the harmonica with claws and all - but if you insist..." For a moment I thought I saw something flicker in his eyes. I decided to err on the side of caution. "No. No need to bother. You are fine just as you are, I was just curious." The flicker disappeared. "Regarding your memory," the man continued "that is a side effect of being in Hell; you forget things - keeps the experience fresh, ya know. Though the memories of your life should come back once you leave." "Wait a minute," I interrupted him "'Once I leave'? I thought being in Hell meant that you were there for all eternity, for forever. So how is it possible for me to leave - not that I mind tough, looking outside I can imagine better places to be." "To be honest" he replied with a tired look "that is exactly the thing. 'Eternity'. 'Forever'. There have not been any new arrivals for quintillions of years, and now finally 'Everything' is over. Time and Space are over. 'Forever' is over. You have served your time, so to say." Once more he sighed "And it would be hardly fair to release you to Heaven with memories 'eternal suffering' - now don't look at me like this, it might not have been fire and brimstone, but I made sure you paid your dues and it was not pleasant. Anyway, so you forgot, and when you leave you will remember your life, good and bad, and you will remember that you paid for your sins - though not the details - so you can enjoy Heaven." I didn't know what to say, and just nodded dumbly. "So, go on," he gestured to a second door in the room - one that I could have sworn had not been there when I first entered - "go on to Heaven. I made sure you earned it - you can take my word." Getting to my feet I took a few hesitant steps toward the second door as I heard him resume playing that sad melody on his harmonica. "What about you?" I asked. He lifted the instrument from his lips and gave me a small, geniune smile. "Very kind of you to ask. But don't worry about me. As I said, I'm closing shop. This here is my penance, there might still be a few souls left, but when the last straggler has gone, I will turn out the lights and too leave through that door. Until then I pass the time with my harmonica." I nodded, and with the sound of his harmonica in my ears, stepped through the door to Heaven.	There's elevator music, and then there's this fucking cacophony. Whatever the fuck was playing over the speakers, it needed to stop asap. It sounded like someone was deepthroating a harmonica while getting assfucked by a trombone. Yeah, not a pretty picture. I glanced around the cabin and saw the same disdainful looks on my companions' faces. "Literally, what the fuck man?" a young girl uttered. She couldn't have been more than 8 or 9 years old. Cradling a DS in her hand and rocking some sweet Bose headphones, she looked aptly upset with her current situation. She noticed my bewilderment and said "Oh please, not like you've never heard a kid wear before." Fuck, she was right. I blinked in approval and went about my business. As the elevator rose and rose, gently beeping as it ascended to the top, I realized that I had no fucking idea where this was going. I tapped the little girl on the shoulder and asked, "which floor is this going to?" "Are you fucking kidding me? It's going to the top you retard." "Well yes you little shit, I can see that on the panel. I'm asking you what's actually on the top floor? She leered at me with beady black eyes. I could tell that she was gradually coming closer and closer to the same confusion I had. "I... don't know." I blinked at her as if to say "who's the retard now?" She shrugged and pulled her headphones close to her ears and blasted Meghan Trainor. God, what I would give to have those noise cancellers. I turned around and surveyed the rest of my cabin. People of all demographics were crammed into this tiny 5x5 box. As I was busy marveling at what in the exact fuck I got myself into, the elevator rapidly picked up speed. The turbulence was getting noticeably larger and larger by the second. Someone must have been prairie-dogging during our ride, because it smelt like decaying human flesh mixed with year old lentils. While all this was happening by the way, the fucking music was also getting louder and louder. If there was a goddamn button on the elevator to make it stop, I would've hit that faster than Ray J hit Kim Kardashian's fine pre-pregnancy ass. Then, as if we were all crash dummies in a car hitting a brick wall, the elevator stopped abruptly. We all lurched upwards and fell back into our boots. The doors opened to reveal a tsunami of mist. I couldn't see shit, but I was quite happy with the fact that our friend's shit stained B.O. that was stinking up the cabin was replaced by the sweet smell of perfume. Huh, I've definitely smelt this before, but couldn't exactly figure out what it was. The mist began to fade and we all began to see what was outside. A bright light enveloped the cabin, but this wasn't just any plain old "white interrogation room" light. This felt like warm radiant sun. It was intoxicating, and I felt like leaning into the light to be warmed by its rays even more. I closed my eyes and drifted forward. When I exited the cabin, I took a look around. "The fuck? This looks like heaven," I said out loud. A bearded older gentleman who was sitting next to a desk said, "You're fucking right my man!" I looked at him and said "excuse me?" "Yeah dude!" He chortled as he took my name. "You must be Ben Forstmann?" "Yes, that's me. How did you..?" "Age 29, cause of death: Alcohol overdose. Man... must've been a helluva way to go buddy!" I couldn't believe what I was hearing... I was.. dead? But how? "What are you saying?" "I'm saying you're dead, and you just spent an eternity in hell. That elevator you saw there? That was a rift caused by some massive fuck up downstairs. We've been getting hordes of you lot coming up and down that street all day. You've our 500th batch today. Here, take a ticket and hop onto that spot over there." "Um.. ok." As I strode back to line, I had trouble remembering what exactly put me in this situation. "Hey old dude, why can't I remember anything?" I yelled. "Oh, yeah, when you pass into this elevator, you felt happiness for the first time since you entered the ahem nether regions. It caused a chemical reaction so significant your senses were wiped transiently. Maybe that's why you feel like you have the worst hangover in history." He was right, my head felt like Kimbo Slice hit it with a bag of bricks. I stood patiently for my turn to arrive, and as I handed over my ticket to the old guy, the fucking harmonica started up again. "Fuck, not this shit again." I turned around to see the doors of the elevator open. Expecting an empty cabin, I was surprised to see something glimmering in the sunlight. Something familiar. I walked over to see what it was, and there was that smell again.. Smelt like, perfume, maybe? I focused my eyes on the floor and started to see what it was: my wedding ring. "Must've fell out of my pocket" I uttered. I went into the cabin to pick it up, and as I was leaving the doors suddenly slammed shut. "Yo what the fuck!" I hurriedly pressed "OPEN" for what felt like another eternity, but the damn door wouldn't budge. Suddenly, the cabin started moving. "OH NO NO NO". The music kept getting louder as the cabin fell down the path it came. It must've been going 100 miles an hour, because I was definitely floating. I began to cry as I realized exactly what was happening. When the elevator finally stopped, a heatwave washed over me as i opened the doors. The music continued to blare, except now it felt like I was hearing it from outside the elevator. I tried to press close and the "TOP" button again, but it seemed broken. I figured that since I didn't have a PhD in mechanical fucking engineering, I might as well haul my ass out of this box and follow the noise. Despite what ever horror movie ever told me, I decided it was better than staying here and hoping for the elevator to work. It seemed like an endless hallway at first. It was a maroon carpet with a nice black wood finish. It smelled like cinnamon buns. For all the shit this guy got, he's at least got style. I walked closer and closer to the source of the noise, and found a tall gaut figure sitting in a big study on a chair that felt like it was 15 feet tall. "Welcome back Ben." "What the actual hell is happening? The tall figure chuckled. Good joke, I guess. "You tell me. The elevator was a glitch in the system, but before your ride we rigged it to operate on will. Nearly everyone in that cabin wanted to get out except for you. Why is that?" "What do you mean 'why is that?'! My fucking wedding ring was there in the cabin and I couldn't let it go." "Ben, did the doors shut as soon as you came into the elevator?" "Yes.." "Then you already made your decision. The elevator simply brought you back to where you wanted to be." I didn't understand what was going on. Why did I want to be back in Hell, out of all places? "Why would I put myself back here? I missed my wife and wanted my ring back." The dark figure took several long moments to ponder my answer. He looked at me, and I didn't see a face but a collection of waltzing shadows hiding what must have been the most horrid memories of my life. I felt palpable fear in my heart whenever I look that "face." "Ben, do you remember how you died?" "Some dude up there said it was a alcohol intoxication." "Yes, but that's not what I asked. Do you remember HOW you died?" I was about to answer "yes!" but I took a moment to figure it all out. I strained to remember what seemed like a laughter, a loud noise, and blackness. "I...was..." "Yes, go on..." "I was with my wife. I think we were in a car, maybe. Yes, yes, we were in a car. We were laughing and driving on the countryside underneath a beautiful sunset. It was my 29th birthday and we were on our way to see her parents for the weekend." At this point the dark figure stood up from his chair and went over to a corner. As I was narrating my story he brought out what seemed like a tall glass bottle. "I think we had a few drinks... yes, we must have been drinking. She never let me get close to her unless she had a few shots. Oh god, I shouldn't have been driving. I was already several bottles in." "Seems to me that you made a judgement call." "Yeah. We were driving down the road and I looked over at her face. 5 years of marriage to the most beautiful woman in the world. Yet, she began to resent me for whatever reason. I couldn't get her to love me like she used to. Like she used to before I started drinking..." The figure took out a glass. "As we were winding around a corner, I didn't see the truck coming. A big red truck, like those firetrucks I used to play with when I was younger. Seemed like time slowed down as I fought against the steering wheel. Unfortunately, it didn't slow down fucking enough..." I began to cry as I recalled it. My stupid fucking ego couldn't take it that I couldn't drive drunk that day. She insisted on calling a cab, but I told her that I was good to go and that it was my birthday and she should let me do something fun for once. She looked at me with sadness in her eyes and eventually let in. That would be the last time she would ever look at me with pity. "I had a problem. Haven't been able to put down the bottle since graduation. My life hasn't been the same since. Everyone else has moved onto big careers and families, and I'm stuck her with a wife and a mortgage I can't pay since I got laid off. I lied to her about those AA meetings. I'm sorry. I have a problem." The figure took a moment before speaking. "Did you come back here to get your ring because you missed your wife or...?" I was silent. "Have a seat over there Ben." I sat down. The figure strode forward and handed me a glass. "It'll be all right. You'll never leave me again will you?" "No.... No I won't."
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	I step forward into a well lit bar. The place is completely empty except for Al Pachino sitting on a bar stool under a pin spot on the center stage wailing on a harmonica. I look down and I’m dressed in a perfectly tailored three piece suit, and my shoes glow in the light softened by red gels. Al is now playing hook and I feel myself being pulled toward the stage; when I’m but a few feet from it another pin spot finds me and bathes me in brilliant white light. The music stops. I look up at him and say, “Wh…” The man’s lips curl around his mouth, “Who am I?” He extended his hand and a flaming glass of liquid appeared. He blew the flame out and took a sip from the glass. “You know who I am, and you know where you are, now say it.” “I’m…I’m…” “Come on now, say it like you’ve got a pair,” He demanded. “I’m dead. There was an accident, and a fire, and I didn’t survive,” I spoke each word as if I were learning the information as I was explaining it. “So is this what, a weigh station for my next life?” Al laughed, “No, you lived your life, your one shot. Was it everything you wanted?” “No, not by a long shot. So if I don’t go on, is this heaven?” He shook his head, “Nope. You my friend are in hell, and me? I’m the Devil, Satan, Lucifer, so on and so on.” “Al Pachino isn’t even dead yet… wait, why the fuck am I in hell?” I yelled as my emotions shifted from confused to angry. He sighed and snapped his fingers turning into the Robot Devil from futurama, “Is this better?” He snapped again and flashed over to a more standard, red pitchfork wielding redheaded woman. “How about this?” “Fine, you’re the Devil, I’m in hell, the question is why?” “You didn’t believe in anything. None of the religions are right, but you didn’t believe in any of them, or anything. You didn’t have to believe in the dogma of the religion, but Bill wanted you to believe in him.” “Fuck, so I’m stuck here, for an eternity? Where is Hitler, Stalin, Bea Arthur? Why is it so empty in here? Wait, Bill?” I shook my head in disbelief. “Yeah, god’s name is Bill. The reason it’s empty in here is because if you believe in Bill you take the express lane over there, straight to whatever version of heaven you can imagine.” “So, Bill sent me to hell because I didn’t believe in him. That sounds a little spiteful, right? What are you in for?” “You’re familiar with the gatekeeper?” The beautiful woman asked. “Dana from Ghostbusters, Sigourney Weaver?” I asked. The woman faded into Zuul then jumped off the stage to stand in front of me and in that voice asked, “Are you a god?” Instantly she began to laugh. I laughed just as hard and then said, “Ray, when someone asks if you’re a god, you say yes!” I slapped her on the shoulder and laughed some more. Zuul faded into a man with a long flowing white beard holding a scroll and quill pen, in front of us on the stage gates began to form from the shadows. “I was thinking more like Saint Peter. That’s more or less who I am. I am the gatekeeper between the world you came from and the afterlife. “ “Does everyone get in?” I asked. “Most, but there are a few who don’t feel they’re ready, or some that are so paranoid they expect it to be a test. So they just sit here praying silently to themselves.” I glanced around the bar and said, “But we’re alone.” “Are we?” The old man shifted back into the form of Al Pachino and ascended back to his bar stool perch on the stage. With a wave of his hand, suddenly the bar was filled with people from all different walks of life. The bar now had a young topless woman. her arms tattooed in full sleeves behind the counter drinking liquid in and spiting it out across an open flame, a bright orange fireball passed over the bar. The people sitting on stools ducked and instinctively before sitting back up. Another table had nuns praying the rosary, next to them another group of Hasidic Jews murmured among themselves keeping nearly silent vigil. There were men in suits wandering toward me, and women in every manner of outfit from short black dress to full length ball gown. I turned back to Al and when I did the noises died down all around me as the people vanished. Al looked down at me as I looked up at him and he played a short riff on the glimmering harmonica, and when he finished he said, “Do you recognized Bill to be your creator, and responsible for all that you are?” “If I did, that would mean I didn’t believe in free will. I can’t do that, I’m every bit as responsible for who I am as some absentee father figure. So no, I can’t say that.” “You do realize that you’ll be banished to this place for all eternity right?” I smiled and said, “Bring back the people, and lets get this party started. Do you take requests? How about The Devil Went Down to Georgia?” “Not that fucking song, do you think I could be beaten in a contest? I’ve been doing this for eons you think Charlie Daniels with fifty years of practice is going to beat me? Fuck that guy.”	There's elevator music, and then there's this fucking cacophony. Whatever the fuck was playing over the speakers, it needed to stop asap. It sounded like someone was deepthroating a harmonica while getting assfucked by a trombone. Yeah, not a pretty picture. I glanced around the cabin and saw the same disdainful looks on my companions' faces. "Literally, what the fuck man?" a young girl uttered. She couldn't have been more than 8 or 9 years old. Cradling a DS in her hand and rocking some sweet Bose headphones, she looked aptly upset with her current situation. She noticed my bewilderment and said "Oh please, not like you've never heard a kid wear before." Fuck, she was right. I blinked in approval and went about my business. As the elevator rose and rose, gently beeping as it ascended to the top, I realized that I had no fucking idea where this was going. I tapped the little girl on the shoulder and asked, "which floor is this going to?" "Are you fucking kidding me? It's going to the top you retard." "Well yes you little shit, I can see that on the panel. I'm asking you what's actually on the top floor? She leered at me with beady black eyes. I could tell that she was gradually coming closer and closer to the same confusion I had. "I... don't know." I blinked at her as if to say "who's the retard now?" She shrugged and pulled her headphones close to her ears and blasted Meghan Trainor. God, what I would give to have those noise cancellers. I turned around and surveyed the rest of my cabin. People of all demographics were crammed into this tiny 5x5 box. As I was busy marveling at what in the exact fuck I got myself into, the elevator rapidly picked up speed. The turbulence was getting noticeably larger and larger by the second. Someone must have been prairie-dogging during our ride, because it smelt like decaying human flesh mixed with year old lentils. While all this was happening by the way, the fucking music was also getting louder and louder. If there was a goddamn button on the elevator to make it stop, I would've hit that faster than Ray J hit Kim Kardashian's fine pre-pregnancy ass. Then, as if we were all crash dummies in a car hitting a brick wall, the elevator stopped abruptly. We all lurched upwards and fell back into our boots. The doors opened to reveal a tsunami of mist. I couldn't see shit, but I was quite happy with the fact that our friend's shit stained B.O. that was stinking up the cabin was replaced by the sweet smell of perfume. Huh, I've definitely smelt this before, but couldn't exactly figure out what it was. The mist began to fade and we all began to see what was outside. A bright light enveloped the cabin, but this wasn't just any plain old "white interrogation room" light. This felt like warm radiant sun. It was intoxicating, and I felt like leaning into the light to be warmed by its rays even more. I closed my eyes and drifted forward. When I exited the cabin, I took a look around. "The fuck? This looks like heaven," I said out loud. A bearded older gentleman who was sitting next to a desk said, "You're fucking right my man!" I looked at him and said "excuse me?" "Yeah dude!" He chortled as he took my name. "You must be Ben Forstmann?" "Yes, that's me. How did you..?" "Age 29, cause of death: Alcohol overdose. Man... must've been a helluva way to go buddy!" I couldn't believe what I was hearing... I was.. dead? But how? "What are you saying?" "I'm saying you're dead, and you just spent an eternity in hell. That elevator you saw there? That was a rift caused by some massive fuck up downstairs. We've been getting hordes of you lot coming up and down that street all day. You've our 500th batch today. Here, take a ticket and hop onto that spot over there." "Um.. ok." As I strode back to line, I had trouble remembering what exactly put me in this situation. "Hey old dude, why can't I remember anything?" I yelled. "Oh, yeah, when you pass into this elevator, you felt happiness for the first time since you entered the ahem nether regions. It caused a chemical reaction so significant your senses were wiped transiently. Maybe that's why you feel like you have the worst hangover in history." He was right, my head felt like Kimbo Slice hit it with a bag of bricks. I stood patiently for my turn to arrive, and as I handed over my ticket to the old guy, the fucking harmonica started up again. "Fuck, not this shit again." I turned around to see the doors of the elevator open. Expecting an empty cabin, I was surprised to see something glimmering in the sunlight. Something familiar. I walked over to see what it was, and there was that smell again.. Smelt like, perfume, maybe? I focused my eyes on the floor and started to see what it was: my wedding ring. "Must've fell out of my pocket" I uttered. I went into the cabin to pick it up, and as I was leaving the doors suddenly slammed shut. "Yo what the fuck!" I hurriedly pressed "OPEN" for what felt like another eternity, but the damn door wouldn't budge. Suddenly, the cabin started moving. "OH NO NO NO". The music kept getting louder as the cabin fell down the path it came. It must've been going 100 miles an hour, because I was definitely floating. I began to cry as I realized exactly what was happening. When the elevator finally stopped, a heatwave washed over me as i opened the doors. The music continued to blare, except now it felt like I was hearing it from outside the elevator. I tried to press close and the "TOP" button again, but it seemed broken. I figured that since I didn't have a PhD in mechanical fucking engineering, I might as well haul my ass out of this box and follow the noise. Despite what ever horror movie ever told me, I decided it was better than staying here and hoping for the elevator to work. It seemed like an endless hallway at first. It was a maroon carpet with a nice black wood finish. It smelled like cinnamon buns. For all the shit this guy got, he's at least got style. I walked closer and closer to the source of the noise, and found a tall gaut figure sitting in a big study on a chair that felt like it was 15 feet tall. "Welcome back Ben." "What the actual hell is happening? The tall figure chuckled. Good joke, I guess. "You tell me. The elevator was a glitch in the system, but before your ride we rigged it to operate on will. Nearly everyone in that cabin wanted to get out except for you. Why is that?" "What do you mean 'why is that?'! My fucking wedding ring was there in the cabin and I couldn't let it go." "Ben, did the doors shut as soon as you came into the elevator?" "Yes.." "Then you already made your decision. The elevator simply brought you back to where you wanted to be." I didn't understand what was going on. Why did I want to be back in Hell, out of all places? "Why would I put myself back here? I missed my wife and wanted my ring back." The dark figure took several long moments to ponder my answer. He looked at me, and I didn't see a face but a collection of waltzing shadows hiding what must have been the most horrid memories of my life. I felt palpable fear in my heart whenever I look that "face." "Ben, do you remember how you died?" "Some dude up there said it was a alcohol intoxication." "Yes, but that's not what I asked. Do you remember HOW you died?" I was about to answer "yes!" but I took a moment to figure it all out. I strained to remember what seemed like a laughter, a loud noise, and blackness. "I...was..." "Yes, go on..." "I was with my wife. I think we were in a car, maybe. Yes, yes, we were in a car. We were laughing and driving on the countryside underneath a beautiful sunset. It was my 29th birthday and we were on our way to see her parents for the weekend." At this point the dark figure stood up from his chair and went over to a corner. As I was narrating my story he brought out what seemed like a tall glass bottle. "I think we had a few drinks... yes, we must have been drinking. She never let me get close to her unless she had a few shots. Oh god, I shouldn't have been driving. I was already several bottles in." "Seems to me that you made a judgement call." "Yeah. We were driving down the road and I looked over at her face. 5 years of marriage to the most beautiful woman in the world. Yet, she began to resent me for whatever reason. I couldn't get her to love me like she used to. Like she used to before I started drinking..." The figure took out a glass. "As we were winding around a corner, I didn't see the truck coming. A big red truck, like those firetrucks I used to play with when I was younger. Seemed like time slowed down as I fought against the steering wheel. Unfortunately, it didn't slow down fucking enough..." I began to cry as I recalled it. My stupid fucking ego couldn't take it that I couldn't drive drunk that day. She insisted on calling a cab, but I told her that I was good to go and that it was my birthday and she should let me do something fun for once. She looked at me with sadness in her eyes and eventually let in. That would be the last time she would ever look at me with pity. "I had a problem. Haven't been able to put down the bottle since graduation. My life hasn't been the same since. Everyone else has moved onto big careers and families, and I'm stuck her with a wife and a mortgage I can't pay since I got laid off. I lied to her about those AA meetings. I'm sorry. I have a problem." The figure took a moment before speaking. "Did you come back here to get your ring because you missed your wife or...?" I was silent. "Have a seat over there Ben." I sat down. The figure strode forward and handed me a glass. "It'll be all right. You'll never leave me again will you?" "No.... No I won't."
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	The soft tones of the ancient wind instrument trailed off as the Lord of Hell finally acknowledged my presence in his domain “You…play the harmonica?” I asked, still trying to wrap my head around the features that now surrounded me. He set his harmonica down on a nearby table that was formed out of pumice, and had small trails of lava pouring out of holes in the sides quite artistically. He adjusted his position on the stool he sat upon to regard me, his amber eyes seeming to pierce right through to my soul…if I still had one. “Indeed. This particular specimen is one of the first mass-produced examples of the modern day instrument you may be familiar with. I took it from the inventor as he came through my doors. “ Satan paused for a moment, “He left it to me when he decided to ascend, it was quite unfortunate that such a gracious man ended up in my custody.” He stood up and walked over to me, placing his hand upon my shoulder . Standing over 7 feet tall and powerfully built, he was as physically imposing a figure as one would imagine the keeper of the underworld to be. “You’re free to ascend as well, human. A new judgement was passed some time ago, no longer is anyone to be enslaved against their will.” I took a step back from him, looking down I reflected on the events that brought me here. “I know. Saint Peter informed me that I was eligible for entry into heaven. I chose this place instead.” With a curious grunt, Lucifer turned around and approached a void in the wall. He waved his hand across it and, like a hologram, key events in my life flashed across the space. Scenes of battle and lust, bigotry and slander streamed endlessly like a video loop until he cast it away. He didn’t even turn to address me, “You seem to have committed no atrocities, no war crimes. A few petty misdeeds, and certainly things that would have led to your disgrace under the old system, but far from the worst I’ve seen.” I shook my head softly in agreement. “So,” Another pause as he turned to face me again, “What lead you to choose this place? You have no family down here, no friends, no lovers. They’re up there, “ he pointed towards the roof of the chamber we were in, “enjoying themselves. Awaiting you.” Another pause, and then softer, “Everyone’s up there nowadays.” It was at this time that I could finally regard him directly, “And when I was hungry, cold, and alone…I remember what that felt like. They never helped me, instead I was saved by a very kind man who had never known me before. He said that I should do the same thing whenever I was given the opportunity, but I never was able to do so. Until now.” The Devil’s gaze softened, and he sat down on the same stool that I had encountered him on. He motioned me to join him on a similar one. “It’s been a long time since I was enjoyed for my company. Tell me, what would you like to do?” Sitting next to him, I only had one request: “Tell me your story, from your side of things.”	There's elevator music, and then there's this fucking cacophony. Whatever the fuck was playing over the speakers, it needed to stop asap. It sounded like someone was deepthroating a harmonica while getting assfucked by a trombone. Yeah, not a pretty picture. I glanced around the cabin and saw the same disdainful looks on my companions' faces. "Literally, what the fuck man?" a young girl uttered. She couldn't have been more than 8 or 9 years old. Cradling a DS in her hand and rocking some sweet Bose headphones, she looked aptly upset with her current situation. She noticed my bewilderment and said "Oh please, not like you've never heard a kid wear before." Fuck, she was right. I blinked in approval and went about my business. As the elevator rose and rose, gently beeping as it ascended to the top, I realized that I had no fucking idea where this was going. I tapped the little girl on the shoulder and asked, "which floor is this going to?" "Are you fucking kidding me? It's going to the top you retard." "Well yes you little shit, I can see that on the panel. I'm asking you what's actually on the top floor? She leered at me with beady black eyes. I could tell that she was gradually coming closer and closer to the same confusion I had. "I... don't know." I blinked at her as if to say "who's the retard now?" She shrugged and pulled her headphones close to her ears and blasted Meghan Trainor. God, what I would give to have those noise cancellers. I turned around and surveyed the rest of my cabin. People of all demographics were crammed into this tiny 5x5 box. As I was busy marveling at what in the exact fuck I got myself into, the elevator rapidly picked up speed. The turbulence was getting noticeably larger and larger by the second. Someone must have been prairie-dogging during our ride, because it smelt like decaying human flesh mixed with year old lentils. While all this was happening by the way, the fucking music was also getting louder and louder. If there was a goddamn button on the elevator to make it stop, I would've hit that faster than Ray J hit Kim Kardashian's fine pre-pregnancy ass. Then, as if we were all crash dummies in a car hitting a brick wall, the elevator stopped abruptly. We all lurched upwards and fell back into our boots. The doors opened to reveal a tsunami of mist. I couldn't see shit, but I was quite happy with the fact that our friend's shit stained B.O. that was stinking up the cabin was replaced by the sweet smell of perfume. Huh, I've definitely smelt this before, but couldn't exactly figure out what it was. The mist began to fade and we all began to see what was outside. A bright light enveloped the cabin, but this wasn't just any plain old "white interrogation room" light. This felt like warm radiant sun. It was intoxicating, and I felt like leaning into the light to be warmed by its rays even more. I closed my eyes and drifted forward. When I exited the cabin, I took a look around. "The fuck? This looks like heaven," I said out loud. A bearded older gentleman who was sitting next to a desk said, "You're fucking right my man!" I looked at him and said "excuse me?" "Yeah dude!" He chortled as he took my name. "You must be Ben Forstmann?" "Yes, that's me. How did you..?" "Age 29, cause of death: Alcohol overdose. Man... must've been a helluva way to go buddy!" I couldn't believe what I was hearing... I was.. dead? But how? "What are you saying?" "I'm saying you're dead, and you just spent an eternity in hell. That elevator you saw there? That was a rift caused by some massive fuck up downstairs. We've been getting hordes of you lot coming up and down that street all day. You've our 500th batch today. Here, take a ticket and hop onto that spot over there." "Um.. ok." As I strode back to line, I had trouble remembering what exactly put me in this situation. "Hey old dude, why can't I remember anything?" I yelled. "Oh, yeah, when you pass into this elevator, you felt happiness for the first time since you entered the ahem nether regions. It caused a chemical reaction so significant your senses were wiped transiently. Maybe that's why you feel like you have the worst hangover in history." He was right, my head felt like Kimbo Slice hit it with a bag of bricks. I stood patiently for my turn to arrive, and as I handed over my ticket to the old guy, the fucking harmonica started up again. "Fuck, not this shit again." I turned around to see the doors of the elevator open. Expecting an empty cabin, I was surprised to see something glimmering in the sunlight. Something familiar. I walked over to see what it was, and there was that smell again.. Smelt like, perfume, maybe? I focused my eyes on the floor and started to see what it was: my wedding ring. "Must've fell out of my pocket" I uttered. I went into the cabin to pick it up, and as I was leaving the doors suddenly slammed shut. "Yo what the fuck!" I hurriedly pressed "OPEN" for what felt like another eternity, but the damn door wouldn't budge. Suddenly, the cabin started moving. "OH NO NO NO". The music kept getting louder as the cabin fell down the path it came. It must've been going 100 miles an hour, because I was definitely floating. I began to cry as I realized exactly what was happening. When the elevator finally stopped, a heatwave washed over me as i opened the doors. The music continued to blare, except now it felt like I was hearing it from outside the elevator. I tried to press close and the "TOP" button again, but it seemed broken. I figured that since I didn't have a PhD in mechanical fucking engineering, I might as well haul my ass out of this box and follow the noise. Despite what ever horror movie ever told me, I decided it was better than staying here and hoping for the elevator to work. It seemed like an endless hallway at first. It was a maroon carpet with a nice black wood finish. It smelled like cinnamon buns. For all the shit this guy got, he's at least got style. I walked closer and closer to the source of the noise, and found a tall gaut figure sitting in a big study on a chair that felt like it was 15 feet tall. "Welcome back Ben." "What the actual hell is happening? The tall figure chuckled. Good joke, I guess. "You tell me. The elevator was a glitch in the system, but before your ride we rigged it to operate on will. Nearly everyone in that cabin wanted to get out except for you. Why is that?" "What do you mean 'why is that?'! My fucking wedding ring was there in the cabin and I couldn't let it go." "Ben, did the doors shut as soon as you came into the elevator?" "Yes.." "Then you already made your decision. The elevator simply brought you back to where you wanted to be." I didn't understand what was going on. Why did I want to be back in Hell, out of all places? "Why would I put myself back here? I missed my wife and wanted my ring back." The dark figure took several long moments to ponder my answer. He looked at me, and I didn't see a face but a collection of waltzing shadows hiding what must have been the most horrid memories of my life. I felt palpable fear in my heart whenever I look that "face." "Ben, do you remember how you died?" "Some dude up there said it was a alcohol intoxication." "Yes, but that's not what I asked. Do you remember HOW you died?" I was about to answer "yes!" but I took a moment to figure it all out. I strained to remember what seemed like a laughter, a loud noise, and blackness. "I...was..." "Yes, go on..." "I was with my wife. I think we were in a car, maybe. Yes, yes, we were in a car. We were laughing and driving on the countryside underneath a beautiful sunset. It was my 29th birthday and we were on our way to see her parents for the weekend." At this point the dark figure stood up from his chair and went over to a corner. As I was narrating my story he brought out what seemed like a tall glass bottle. "I think we had a few drinks... yes, we must have been drinking. She never let me get close to her unless she had a few shots. Oh god, I shouldn't have been driving. I was already several bottles in." "Seems to me that you made a judgement call." "Yeah. We were driving down the road and I looked over at her face. 5 years of marriage to the most beautiful woman in the world. Yet, she began to resent me for whatever reason. I couldn't get her to love me like she used to. Like she used to before I started drinking..." The figure took out a glass. "As we were winding around a corner, I didn't see the truck coming. A big red truck, like those firetrucks I used to play with when I was younger. Seemed like time slowed down as I fought against the steering wheel. Unfortunately, it didn't slow down fucking enough..." I began to cry as I recalled it. My stupid fucking ego couldn't take it that I couldn't drive drunk that day. She insisted on calling a cab, but I told her that I was good to go and that it was my birthday and she should let me do something fun for once. She looked at me with sadness in her eyes and eventually let in. That would be the last time she would ever look at me with pity. "I had a problem. Haven't been able to put down the bottle since graduation. My life hasn't been the same since. Everyone else has moved onto big careers and families, and I'm stuck her with a wife and a mortgage I can't pay since I got laid off. I lied to her about those AA meetings. I'm sorry. I have a problem." The figure took a moment before speaking. "Did you come back here to get your ring because you missed your wife or...?" I was silent. "Have a seat over there Ben." I sat down. The figure strode forward and handed me a glass. "It'll be all right. You'll never leave me again will you?" "No.... No I won't."
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	>Oh God damnit! I spun around confused. Just moments earlier I'd been walking down the street, and now I was in a cold, dark, lifeless...abyss. Before me was terror incarnate. Black horns over a foot long sprung from the stranger's red face. Well, red everything. This had to be Satan. The giant figure sighed, sat down a harmonica, and stood. >Just when I finally...sigh...welcome to Hell, darkness and everlasting torment...whatever. I am the dark one, Satan. Not knowing what to say I offered a meager head nod. Should I bow? >No, don't bow. Just prepare yourself for pain and terror for the rest of eternity. I felt myself starting to panic, looking around for escape or help. The realization hit me I'm all alone with the most evil creature ever brought into creation. And apparently the bastard can read my thoughts. Wait, why am I alone with...it? Where is everyone? >Yes, that's right. It's just you and me. And I will make you suffer. But before we begin I must warn you. Whatever you do, DO NOT go through the door marked exit. An exit? In Hell? Should I try... >Oh no, don't, stop, I'm warning you. Without thinking another moment I sprinted towards the door. Satan didn't even give chase. As I pulled the door open a blinding, white light sprung through. >Oh no, another one got away. Well, guess I'll just enjoy a little peace and quiet. As the door shut behind me all I could hear was stilted harmonica music interspersed with booming laughter.	I walked kind of frantically towards the door at the end of the hall. It was super eerie and quiet all around me, I felt like at any moment someone, or something, was going to pop out of one of the doors surrounding me and do only God knows what. I quickened my pace towards the sound of the blues being blasted out of a harmonica. It sounded more and more like something out of an old western prison scene as I grew nearer. The passion and anguish tugged at my heart with every note. I almost forgot how goddamn hot it was down here. As I neared the entrance to the door the music stopped suddenly and a whiny voice called out to me, "Fuck off then, mate. Get the fuck out of here with the rest of them." I opened the door and almost had a heart attack. Before me sat a massive creature, he looked as though he was 10 feet tall and sat slouched on a throne of skulls. "What the fuck yer doin' 'ere then? I told ya fuck off." "Satan....y-you're Satan?" I stammered. "No ya bloody idiot, I'm Santa Clause." "Why are you talking in an Englis...no, Australian accent?" "Well, obviously, because I'm from down under, now leave before I kill you." "But-" "I said FUCK OFF!" the devil interrupted me. "Leave with the rest of them, Hell isn't cool anymore. Once God, that cunt....once He decided to take all the 'cool kids' back Hell is the worst place in the universe." "But isn't...nevermind, why would He want to take all of them back into heaven? Isn't the point to punish them for eternity?" "Well, that's what the bastard is doing, you humans got it all wrong. You see you always had a choice of where to go...it's just based on your character as a default. No one is being punished, but there's just two different choices, one for the losers, Heaven, and one for the cool kids, Hell. Down here, man could we fuckin party mate! And the girls, oh, the girls...Anyways, this fuckin loser's son Jesus started telling everyone drugs and alcohol were bad and would ruin eternity for them and now the dipsticks are all scared of me because of what they learned on Earth, and Jesus's fuckin lies!" "So let me get this straight, you, the Devil, Lucifer, the ultimate corrupter, are sitting here sulking all because Jesus stole your bitches?" Satan sulked and slumped further in his chair. "They have everyone whose ever lived up there now. We'll never reopen now." "No, we're going to fix this. Now sit up and listen to me you fuckin pussy!" Satan sat up and looked at me inquisitively. "All we gotta do is remind everyone that you can't die down here, yanno because we're already dead..." Satan sat up a little straighter and urged me on with his eyes. The loneliness seemed to give way to something...something that resembled hope. "So..." "So? So what?!!?!" His voice rumbled through the chamber. "So, we just need to bring the party back to hell! Don't you have a drug dealer or something? And booze, we need booze and girls. Grey goose and some Patrón-" "Did someone say El Patrón? You know what they say, speak of the..." "Don Pablo!!!" The devil screamed like a preteen girl at the sight of Justin Bieber. I was utterly speechless, who knew killing yourself could turn into such a fuckin hassle. "Mijo, listen to me, I know how to bring everyone back down to our fiesta." I stood there looking like a slack-jawwed idiot as I watched the devil get up from the throne he sat upon and make way for THE Pablo Escobar. Pablo sauntered up to the steps and slowly ascended to the throne. "Wait, hold on a minute, you're the one in charge down here? That's-" the Devil slapped me so hard I flew back 20 feet into a wall. "Do not speak ill of Don Pablo." "Now listen to me, Diablo, mijo, we have a shipment coming in from Hades soon, when that comes in mis asociados will begin to push it to the low lives on the streets of Heaven. Your little friend here can get naked and head into the packaging room and we can discuss bringing Zeus and Ares over to discuss...business." "Wait, wait! Hold on, let me help you guys I stuck around when no one else did don't make me your bitch please Don Pablo." I begged for mercy for the first time in my existence that day, not from God or from the Devil himself, but none other than Pablo Fucking Escobar. The Columbian cocaine emperor. Literally the most powerful man to ever exist. "Mm. Okay pinche puta, you can help us. When the shipment arrives you can transport it to Heaven for us, and soon we will restore our Home to its former glorious state of debauchery." And so began my eternal service to the real Devil himself. We flooded the streets of Heaven with sweet Peruvian booger sugar and brought some of the toughest party animals of all time back down to the dark side. Genghis Kahn, Joseph Stalin, Ben Franklin, Thomas Edison, and Chris Farley were among the first to return. For the next 1000 years we let the party rage, stealing the bitches back from Jesus and God and never sleeping thanks to Don Pablo's multiple plugs. I think at one point I banged Lindsay Lohan for like 3 months, but that was a rough patch and may have just been her career. It was the sickest rager in the history of eternity, and nothing changed until the turn of the next millenia, humans on Earth had finally done away with cigarettes entirely...and Keith Richards showed up.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	"Hello?" I called out into a seemingly endless abyss. I heard a weepy wobbly minor chord play on a harmonica behind me. There, in front of my own two eyes was the lord of darkness himself, slouched back on a rocking chair playing the blues. I trembled in his presence but noticed he was unamused by me. "Um, hi." I said quietly. He spat what appeared to be lava into a spittoon that seemingly constituted itself. "What you want?" He said in a low charred voice. "Are you...the devil?" "You mean the ruler of the underworld, Diablo, king of the damned, foulest of the foul? "Yeah him." "That guy hasn't been around here for a while, looks like nobody needs him anymore. He's out of a job. It's just me, Rusty McJackoff." I could see that he was down on his luck, so I walked over to him and went down to one knee. "There's nobody here who wants to drown my blasphemous soul in lakes of fire?" I could see his eyes light up, literally, flames appeared in his eyes, but it was to no avail. "He's dead." Satan threw his harmonica yards into the distance and crossed his arms. "I bet he's here. He's just...out of practice." Satan narrowed his eyes and stuck his claw out at me, "You gonna leave like the rest of 'um?" I put my hands in my pockets and shrugged my shoulders, "Well, most of the people who I can't stand are in Heaven. And if I'm the only one here, maybe we can be friends for eternity." Satan disappeared in a cloud of smoke then reappeared in front of me, in a fine demonic suit and with a red pitch fork. "I still have to torture your soul, but we can hang out. I can promote you to demon if things go well." "I had a feeling you'd say that. Eh, that's fine." Satan looked at me and smiled, "Wow, you are a great guy, why did you even get sent here?" I sighed, "I'm gay and Jewish." Satan rolled his eyes, "You know that's bullshit. Let me check your sins...Wow, I'm impressed. Murder seems to be your favorite." "Eh, it's a living." I grin from ear to ear. We both high five. End.	I walked kind of frantically towards the door at the end of the hall. It was super eerie and quiet all around me, I felt like at any moment someone, or something, was going to pop out of one of the doors surrounding me and do only God knows what. I quickened my pace towards the sound of the blues being blasted out of a harmonica. It sounded more and more like something out of an old western prison scene as I grew nearer. The passion and anguish tugged at my heart with every note. I almost forgot how goddamn hot it was down here. As I neared the entrance to the door the music stopped suddenly and a whiny voice called out to me, "Fuck off then, mate. Get the fuck out of here with the rest of them." I opened the door and almost had a heart attack. Before me sat a massive creature, he looked as though he was 10 feet tall and sat slouched on a throne of skulls. "What the fuck yer doin' 'ere then? I told ya fuck off." "Satan....y-you're Satan?" I stammered. "No ya bloody idiot, I'm Santa Clause." "Why are you talking in an Englis...no, Australian accent?" "Well, obviously, because I'm from down under, now leave before I kill you." "But-" "I said FUCK OFF!" the devil interrupted me. "Leave with the rest of them, Hell isn't cool anymore. Once God, that cunt....once He decided to take all the 'cool kids' back Hell is the worst place in the universe." "But isn't...nevermind, why would He want to take all of them back into heaven? Isn't the point to punish them for eternity?" "Well, that's what the bastard is doing, you humans got it all wrong. You see you always had a choice of where to go...it's just based on your character as a default. No one is being punished, but there's just two different choices, one for the losers, Heaven, and one for the cool kids, Hell. Down here, man could we fuckin party mate! And the girls, oh, the girls...Anyways, this fuckin loser's son Jesus started telling everyone drugs and alcohol were bad and would ruin eternity for them and now the dipsticks are all scared of me because of what they learned on Earth, and Jesus's fuckin lies!" "So let me get this straight, you, the Devil, Lucifer, the ultimate corrupter, are sitting here sulking all because Jesus stole your bitches?" Satan sulked and slumped further in his chair. "They have everyone whose ever lived up there now. We'll never reopen now." "No, we're going to fix this. Now sit up and listen to me you fuckin pussy!" Satan sat up and looked at me inquisitively. "All we gotta do is remind everyone that you can't die down here, yanno because we're already dead..." Satan sat up a little straighter and urged me on with his eyes. The loneliness seemed to give way to something...something that resembled hope. "So..." "So? So what?!!?!" His voice rumbled through the chamber. "So, we just need to bring the party back to hell! Don't you have a drug dealer or something? And booze, we need booze and girls. Grey goose and some Patrón-" "Did someone say El Patrón? You know what they say, speak of the..." "Don Pablo!!!" The devil screamed like a preteen girl at the sight of Justin Bieber. I was utterly speechless, who knew killing yourself could turn into such a fuckin hassle. "Mijo, listen to me, I know how to bring everyone back down to our fiesta." I stood there looking like a slack-jawwed idiot as I watched the devil get up from the throne he sat upon and make way for THE Pablo Escobar. Pablo sauntered up to the steps and slowly ascended to the throne. "Wait, hold on a minute, you're the one in charge down here? That's-" the Devil slapped me so hard I flew back 20 feet into a wall. "Do not speak ill of Don Pablo." "Now listen to me, Diablo, mijo, we have a shipment coming in from Hades soon, when that comes in mis asociados will begin to push it to the low lives on the streets of Heaven. Your little friend here can get naked and head into the packaging room and we can discuss bringing Zeus and Ares over to discuss...business." "Wait, wait! Hold on, let me help you guys I stuck around when no one else did don't make me your bitch please Don Pablo." I begged for mercy for the first time in my existence that day, not from God or from the Devil himself, but none other than Pablo Fucking Escobar. The Columbian cocaine emperor. Literally the most powerful man to ever exist. "Mm. Okay pinche puta, you can help us. When the shipment arrives you can transport it to Heaven for us, and soon we will restore our Home to its former glorious state of debauchery." And so began my eternal service to the real Devil himself. We flooded the streets of Heaven with sweet Peruvian booger sugar and brought some of the toughest party animals of all time back down to the dark side. Genghis Kahn, Joseph Stalin, Ben Franklin, Thomas Edison, and Chris Farley were among the first to return. For the next 1000 years we let the party rage, stealing the bitches back from Jesus and God and never sleeping thanks to Don Pablo's multiple plugs. I think at one point I banged Lindsay Lohan for like 3 months, but that was a rough patch and may have just been her career. It was the sickest rager in the history of eternity, and nothing changed until the turn of the next millenia, humans on Earth had finally done away with cigarettes entirely...and Keith Richards showed up.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	There were no screams when I entered Hell. I was shocked, having been raised in a Christian family, but there were no sounds of people being tortured, no crackling of the insane demons who resided in the pits of Hell. The only sound I was the sound of a harmonica, playing a very blues-esc tune. I did what was natural to a person in an unfamiliar landscape- I followed the sound. It walked for what felt like hours searching for the source of the music. Through lakes of fire and fields of brimstone I traveled before finally seeing who- or what- was playing the harmonica. I thought I was prepared for anything. I was not prepared to see Satan, the King of Babylon himself, playing the harmonica whilst looking miserable. He had noticed me almost immediately, and stopped playing. "Why are you still here?" He had asked, his voice filled with sadness and.. something else. Was it anger? Hatred? I couldn't tell. "What do you mean? This is Hell, where the sinners go for eternal damnation. I can't leave," I replied, staring at him. I quickly jumped back when I realized that I was having a civil conversation with the Evil One. Satan sighed, and the harmonica burned to a crisp, as though it were made out of paper. "You've noticed it, haven't you? The lack of screaming, the terrifying silence, the emptyness. People- and demons- have been leaving here, escaping their eternal punishment, all due to Him offering them salvation, even after thousands of years of sins and punishment. He updated his rules, just because of His son's return to Earth," he pauses, looking out over the fields formerly filled with scores of tortured souls. "So you are saying that I am free to go to Heaven, despite having committed the horrid crimes that I have?" He nods, looking at me. "You aren't even supposed to be in here for that. What you did was self defense. The suicide afterwards is what sent you here, but yes, mortal. You may leave. All you must do is pray towards Him. It will burn, but you will be immortalized in Heaven. No leave- I will be practicing my harmonica," at this point, he sounded downright miserable. I felt bad for the devil. I pitied Lucifer, and I shouldn't. I should fear him, but he sounds so broken. Millennia of watching over the worst people that the Earth has known, undone due to a change of God's Terms of Service. I made a decision that would define me for eternity. "I have a question for you, Abaddon," He looks at me, surprised at either being addressed directly by a mortal, or being called by his Hebrew name. "You play harmonica, but, according to an old bluegrass song, you played the fiddle. Is that true?" He laughed, grinning. "Well, seems like that old contest with Johnny is famous after all. I understand that you played the fiddle when you were among the mortal plane?" I nodded. "You could probably teach me a few things though. The question is, will you?" "Of course I will. Beware though- this training will put you through Hell," he laughed, crafting two violins out of the fire surrounding us. "It's a good thing that I'm already there then, right?" And then we played.	I walked kind of frantically towards the door at the end of the hall. It was super eerie and quiet all around me, I felt like at any moment someone, or something, was going to pop out of one of the doors surrounding me and do only God knows what. I quickened my pace towards the sound of the blues being blasted out of a harmonica. It sounded more and more like something out of an old western prison scene as I grew nearer. The passion and anguish tugged at my heart with every note. I almost forgot how goddamn hot it was down here. As I neared the entrance to the door the music stopped suddenly and a whiny voice called out to me, "Fuck off then, mate. Get the fuck out of here with the rest of them." I opened the door and almost had a heart attack. Before me sat a massive creature, he looked as though he was 10 feet tall and sat slouched on a throne of skulls. "What the fuck yer doin' 'ere then? I told ya fuck off." "Satan....y-you're Satan?" I stammered. "No ya bloody idiot, I'm Santa Clause." "Why are you talking in an Englis...no, Australian accent?" "Well, obviously, because I'm from down under, now leave before I kill you." "But-" "I said FUCK OFF!" the devil interrupted me. "Leave with the rest of them, Hell isn't cool anymore. Once God, that cunt....once He decided to take all the 'cool kids' back Hell is the worst place in the universe." "But isn't...nevermind, why would He want to take all of them back into heaven? Isn't the point to punish them for eternity?" "Well, that's what the bastard is doing, you humans got it all wrong. You see you always had a choice of where to go...it's just based on your character as a default. No one is being punished, but there's just two different choices, one for the losers, Heaven, and one for the cool kids, Hell. Down here, man could we fuckin party mate! And the girls, oh, the girls...Anyways, this fuckin loser's son Jesus started telling everyone drugs and alcohol were bad and would ruin eternity for them and now the dipsticks are all scared of me because of what they learned on Earth, and Jesus's fuckin lies!" "So let me get this straight, you, the Devil, Lucifer, the ultimate corrupter, are sitting here sulking all because Jesus stole your bitches?" Satan sulked and slumped further in his chair. "They have everyone whose ever lived up there now. We'll never reopen now." "No, we're going to fix this. Now sit up and listen to me you fuckin pussy!" Satan sat up and looked at me inquisitively. "All we gotta do is remind everyone that you can't die down here, yanno because we're already dead..." Satan sat up a little straighter and urged me on with his eyes. The loneliness seemed to give way to something...something that resembled hope. "So..." "So? So what?!!?!" His voice rumbled through the chamber. "So, we just need to bring the party back to hell! Don't you have a drug dealer or something? And booze, we need booze and girls. Grey goose and some Patrón-" "Did someone say El Patrón? You know what they say, speak of the..." "Don Pablo!!!" The devil screamed like a preteen girl at the sight of Justin Bieber. I was utterly speechless, who knew killing yourself could turn into such a fuckin hassle. "Mijo, listen to me, I know how to bring everyone back down to our fiesta." I stood there looking like a slack-jawwed idiot as I watched the devil get up from the throne he sat upon and make way for THE Pablo Escobar. Pablo sauntered up to the steps and slowly ascended to the throne. "Wait, hold on a minute, you're the one in charge down here? That's-" the Devil slapped me so hard I flew back 20 feet into a wall. "Do not speak ill of Don Pablo." "Now listen to me, Diablo, mijo, we have a shipment coming in from Hades soon, when that comes in mis asociados will begin to push it to the low lives on the streets of Heaven. Your little friend here can get naked and head into the packaging room and we can discuss bringing Zeus and Ares over to discuss...business." "Wait, wait! Hold on, let me help you guys I stuck around when no one else did don't make me your bitch please Don Pablo." I begged for mercy for the first time in my existence that day, not from God or from the Devil himself, but none other than Pablo Fucking Escobar. The Columbian cocaine emperor. Literally the most powerful man to ever exist. "Mm. Okay pinche puta, you can help us. When the shipment arrives you can transport it to Heaven for us, and soon we will restore our Home to its former glorious state of debauchery." And so began my eternal service to the real Devil himself. We flooded the streets of Heaven with sweet Peruvian booger sugar and brought some of the toughest party animals of all time back down to the dark side. Genghis Kahn, Joseph Stalin, Ben Franklin, Thomas Edison, and Chris Farley were among the first to return. For the next 1000 years we let the party rage, stealing the bitches back from Jesus and God and never sleeping thanks to Don Pablo's multiple plugs. I think at one point I banged Lindsay Lohan for like 3 months, but that was a rough patch and may have just been her career. It was the sickest rager in the history of eternity, and nothing changed until the turn of the next millenia, humans on Earth had finally done away with cigarettes entirely...and Keith Richards showed up.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	All around me were the ruins of what once must have been a great city, now deserted, and devoid of any life - human or otherwise. Snowflakes kept falling from the ever-grey sky, covering the broken buildings and streets with a thin, white dusting. I shivered. In the distance someone was playing the harmonica, a sad and sorrowful tune. Walking towards the sound, I came to a building - less ruined than the others I had passed - and I noticed a faint light shining through its boarded-up windows and from under its simple, wooden front door. I knocked, then entered, trying not drag too much snow inside with my boots. The room beyond the door might once have been called cozy - bookshelves on one wall, a fire in an open fireplace on the other, a desk and some cushy chairs - but now it all looked old and worn. The harmonica's melody stopped when I entered, and the player - sitting on one of the chairs - turned his head towards me. "Ah, there you are. I was wondering when you'd show up. Please, close the door - it's rather chilly, no? - and take a seat." he spoke and motioned to the chairs. Slightly confused I did as he asked, then sat down in one of the chairs opposite his. "Who are you?" I asked "You have been waiting for me? And what is all this? Now that I think about it, I can't even recall how I got here in the first place." The man smiled a sad smile. "To answer your questions: This is Hell. Quite litterally. And I am Satan. The Devil. Lucifer. I think you get it. As to how you got here: Simple, you died, was measured and found lacking, and so you ended up here." "I died and went to Hell?" I asked incredulousy "This is Hell? Aren't there supposed to be lakes of lava or something? And I thought Satan looked different, ya know, more demonic, horns, goat feet, and so on." - I gestured at the tired looking man in his worn-out suit - "You - no offense - look rather ordinary. Also you didn't answer me why I can't remember anything." The man who claimed to be Satan sighed. "I had a looooong chat with the folks who first brought up that 'Fire and Brimstone' nonsense. Really considered going the extra mile for them, just so they could have a first-hand comparison of both experiences. And do you really want me to be horrible and scary? It's been a while - honestly I like this body better, hard to play the harmonica with claws and all - but if you insist..." For a moment I thought I saw something flicker in his eyes. I decided to err on the side of caution. "No. No need to bother. You are fine just as you are, I was just curious." The flicker disappeared. "Regarding your memory," the man continued "that is a side effect of being in Hell; you forget things - keeps the experience fresh, ya know. Though the memories of your life should come back once you leave." "Wait a minute," I interrupted him "'Once I leave'? I thought being in Hell meant that you were there for all eternity, for forever. So how is it possible for me to leave - not that I mind tough, looking outside I can imagine better places to be." "To be honest" he replied with a tired look "that is exactly the thing. 'Eternity'. 'Forever'. There have not been any new arrivals for quintillions of years, and now finally 'Everything' is over. Time and Space are over. 'Forever' is over. You have served your time, so to say." Once more he sighed "And it would be hardly fair to release you to Heaven with memories 'eternal suffering' - now don't look at me like this, it might not have been fire and brimstone, but I made sure you paid your dues and it was not pleasant. Anyway, so you forgot, and when you leave you will remember your life, good and bad, and you will remember that you paid for your sins - though not the details - so you can enjoy Heaven." I didn't know what to say, and just nodded dumbly. "So, go on," he gestured to a second door in the room - one that I could have sworn had not been there when I first entered - "go on to Heaven. I made sure you earned it - you can take my word." Getting to my feet I took a few hesitant steps toward the second door as I heard him resume playing that sad melody on his harmonica. "What about you?" I asked. He lifted the instrument from his lips and gave me a small, geniune smile. "Very kind of you to ask. But don't worry about me. As I said, I'm closing shop. This here is my penance, there might still be a few souls left, but when the last straggler has gone, I will turn out the lights and too leave through that door. Until then I pass the time with my harmonica." I nodded, and with the sound of his harmonica in my ears, stepped through the door to Heaven.	I walked kind of frantically towards the door at the end of the hall. It was super eerie and quiet all around me, I felt like at any moment someone, or something, was going to pop out of one of the doors surrounding me and do only God knows what. I quickened my pace towards the sound of the blues being blasted out of a harmonica. It sounded more and more like something out of an old western prison scene as I grew nearer. The passion and anguish tugged at my heart with every note. I almost forgot how goddamn hot it was down here. As I neared the entrance to the door the music stopped suddenly and a whiny voice called out to me, "Fuck off then, mate. Get the fuck out of here with the rest of them." I opened the door and almost had a heart attack. Before me sat a massive creature, he looked as though he was 10 feet tall and sat slouched on a throne of skulls. "What the fuck yer doin' 'ere then? I told ya fuck off." "Satan....y-you're Satan?" I stammered. "No ya bloody idiot, I'm Santa Clause." "Why are you talking in an Englis...no, Australian accent?" "Well, obviously, because I'm from down under, now leave before I kill you." "But-" "I said FUCK OFF!" the devil interrupted me. "Leave with the rest of them, Hell isn't cool anymore. Once God, that cunt....once He decided to take all the 'cool kids' back Hell is the worst place in the universe." "But isn't...nevermind, why would He want to take all of them back into heaven? Isn't the point to punish them for eternity?" "Well, that's what the bastard is doing, you humans got it all wrong. You see you always had a choice of where to go...it's just based on your character as a default. No one is being punished, but there's just two different choices, one for the losers, Heaven, and one for the cool kids, Hell. Down here, man could we fuckin party mate! And the girls, oh, the girls...Anyways, this fuckin loser's son Jesus started telling everyone drugs and alcohol were bad and would ruin eternity for them and now the dipsticks are all scared of me because of what they learned on Earth, and Jesus's fuckin lies!" "So let me get this straight, you, the Devil, Lucifer, the ultimate corrupter, are sitting here sulking all because Jesus stole your bitches?" Satan sulked and slumped further in his chair. "They have everyone whose ever lived up there now. We'll never reopen now." "No, we're going to fix this. Now sit up and listen to me you fuckin pussy!" Satan sat up and looked at me inquisitively. "All we gotta do is remind everyone that you can't die down here, yanno because we're already dead..." Satan sat up a little straighter and urged me on with his eyes. The loneliness seemed to give way to something...something that resembled hope. "So..." "So? So what?!!?!" His voice rumbled through the chamber. "So, we just need to bring the party back to hell! Don't you have a drug dealer or something? And booze, we need booze and girls. Grey goose and some Patrón-" "Did someone say El Patrón? You know what they say, speak of the..." "Don Pablo!!!" The devil screamed like a preteen girl at the sight of Justin Bieber. I was utterly speechless, who knew killing yourself could turn into such a fuckin hassle. "Mijo, listen to me, I know how to bring everyone back down to our fiesta." I stood there looking like a slack-jawwed idiot as I watched the devil get up from the throne he sat upon and make way for THE Pablo Escobar. Pablo sauntered up to the steps and slowly ascended to the throne. "Wait, hold on a minute, you're the one in charge down here? That's-" the Devil slapped me so hard I flew back 20 feet into a wall. "Do not speak ill of Don Pablo." "Now listen to me, Diablo, mijo, we have a shipment coming in from Hades soon, when that comes in mis asociados will begin to push it to the low lives on the streets of Heaven. Your little friend here can get naked and head into the packaging room and we can discuss bringing Zeus and Ares over to discuss...business." "Wait, wait! Hold on, let me help you guys I stuck around when no one else did don't make me your bitch please Don Pablo." I begged for mercy for the first time in my existence that day, not from God or from the Devil himself, but none other than Pablo Fucking Escobar. The Columbian cocaine emperor. Literally the most powerful man to ever exist. "Mm. Okay pinche puta, you can help us. When the shipment arrives you can transport it to Heaven for us, and soon we will restore our Home to its former glorious state of debauchery." And so began my eternal service to the real Devil himself. We flooded the streets of Heaven with sweet Peruvian booger sugar and brought some of the toughest party animals of all time back down to the dark side. Genghis Kahn, Joseph Stalin, Ben Franklin, Thomas Edison, and Chris Farley were among the first to return. For the next 1000 years we let the party rage, stealing the bitches back from Jesus and God and never sleeping thanks to Don Pablo's multiple plugs. I think at one point I banged Lindsay Lohan for like 3 months, but that was a rough patch and may have just been her career. It was the sickest rager in the history of eternity, and nothing changed until the turn of the next millenia, humans on Earth had finally done away with cigarettes entirely...and Keith Richards showed up.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	I step forward into a well lit bar. The place is completely empty except for Al Pachino sitting on a bar stool under a pin spot on the center stage wailing on a harmonica. I look down and I’m dressed in a perfectly tailored three piece suit, and my shoes glow in the light softened by red gels. Al is now playing hook and I feel myself being pulled toward the stage; when I’m but a few feet from it another pin spot finds me and bathes me in brilliant white light. The music stops. I look up at him and say, “Wh…” The man’s lips curl around his mouth, “Who am I?” He extended his hand and a flaming glass of liquid appeared. He blew the flame out and took a sip from the glass. “You know who I am, and you know where you are, now say it.” “I’m…I’m…” “Come on now, say it like you’ve got a pair,” He demanded. “I’m dead. There was an accident, and a fire, and I didn’t survive,” I spoke each word as if I were learning the information as I was explaining it. “So is this what, a weigh station for my next life?” Al laughed, “No, you lived your life, your one shot. Was it everything you wanted?” “No, not by a long shot. So if I don’t go on, is this heaven?” He shook his head, “Nope. You my friend are in hell, and me? I’m the Devil, Satan, Lucifer, so on and so on.” “Al Pachino isn’t even dead yet… wait, why the fuck am I in hell?” I yelled as my emotions shifted from confused to angry. He sighed and snapped his fingers turning into the Robot Devil from futurama, “Is this better?” He snapped again and flashed over to a more standard, red pitchfork wielding redheaded woman. “How about this?” “Fine, you’re the Devil, I’m in hell, the question is why?” “You didn’t believe in anything. None of the religions are right, but you didn’t believe in any of them, or anything. You didn’t have to believe in the dogma of the religion, but Bill wanted you to believe in him.” “Fuck, so I’m stuck here, for an eternity? Where is Hitler, Stalin, Bea Arthur? Why is it so empty in here? Wait, Bill?” I shook my head in disbelief. “Yeah, god’s name is Bill. The reason it’s empty in here is because if you believe in Bill you take the express lane over there, straight to whatever version of heaven you can imagine.” “So, Bill sent me to hell because I didn’t believe in him. That sounds a little spiteful, right? What are you in for?” “You’re familiar with the gatekeeper?” The beautiful woman asked. “Dana from Ghostbusters, Sigourney Weaver?” I asked. The woman faded into Zuul then jumped off the stage to stand in front of me and in that voice asked, “Are you a god?” Instantly she began to laugh. I laughed just as hard and then said, “Ray, when someone asks if you’re a god, you say yes!” I slapped her on the shoulder and laughed some more. Zuul faded into a man with a long flowing white beard holding a scroll and quill pen, in front of us on the stage gates began to form from the shadows. “I was thinking more like Saint Peter. That’s more or less who I am. I am the gatekeeper between the world you came from and the afterlife. “ “Does everyone get in?” I asked. “Most, but there are a few who don’t feel they’re ready, or some that are so paranoid they expect it to be a test. So they just sit here praying silently to themselves.” I glanced around the bar and said, “But we’re alone.” “Are we?” The old man shifted back into the form of Al Pachino and ascended back to his bar stool perch on the stage. With a wave of his hand, suddenly the bar was filled with people from all different walks of life. The bar now had a young topless woman. her arms tattooed in full sleeves behind the counter drinking liquid in and spiting it out across an open flame, a bright orange fireball passed over the bar. The people sitting on stools ducked and instinctively before sitting back up. Another table had nuns praying the rosary, next to them another group of Hasidic Jews murmured among themselves keeping nearly silent vigil. There were men in suits wandering toward me, and women in every manner of outfit from short black dress to full length ball gown. I turned back to Al and when I did the noises died down all around me as the people vanished. Al looked down at me as I looked up at him and he played a short riff on the glimmering harmonica, and when he finished he said, “Do you recognized Bill to be your creator, and responsible for all that you are?” “If I did, that would mean I didn’t believe in free will. I can’t do that, I’m every bit as responsible for who I am as some absentee father figure. So no, I can’t say that.” “You do realize that you’ll be banished to this place for all eternity right?” I smiled and said, “Bring back the people, and lets get this party started. Do you take requests? How about The Devil Went Down to Georgia?” “Not that fucking song, do you think I could be beaten in a contest? I’ve been doing this for eons you think Charlie Daniels with fifty years of practice is going to beat me? Fuck that guy.”	I walked kind of frantically towards the door at the end of the hall. It was super eerie and quiet all around me, I felt like at any moment someone, or something, was going to pop out of one of the doors surrounding me and do only God knows what. I quickened my pace towards the sound of the blues being blasted out of a harmonica. It sounded more and more like something out of an old western prison scene as I grew nearer. The passion and anguish tugged at my heart with every note. I almost forgot how goddamn hot it was down here. As I neared the entrance to the door the music stopped suddenly and a whiny voice called out to me, "Fuck off then, mate. Get the fuck out of here with the rest of them." I opened the door and almost had a heart attack. Before me sat a massive creature, he looked as though he was 10 feet tall and sat slouched on a throne of skulls. "What the fuck yer doin' 'ere then? I told ya fuck off." "Satan....y-you're Satan?" I stammered. "No ya bloody idiot, I'm Santa Clause." "Why are you talking in an Englis...no, Australian accent?" "Well, obviously, because I'm from down under, now leave before I kill you." "But-" "I said FUCK OFF!" the devil interrupted me. "Leave with the rest of them, Hell isn't cool anymore. Once God, that cunt....once He decided to take all the 'cool kids' back Hell is the worst place in the universe." "But isn't...nevermind, why would He want to take all of them back into heaven? Isn't the point to punish them for eternity?" "Well, that's what the bastard is doing, you humans got it all wrong. You see you always had a choice of where to go...it's just based on your character as a default. No one is being punished, but there's just two different choices, one for the losers, Heaven, and one for the cool kids, Hell. Down here, man could we fuckin party mate! And the girls, oh, the girls...Anyways, this fuckin loser's son Jesus started telling everyone drugs and alcohol were bad and would ruin eternity for them and now the dipsticks are all scared of me because of what they learned on Earth, and Jesus's fuckin lies!" "So let me get this straight, you, the Devil, Lucifer, the ultimate corrupter, are sitting here sulking all because Jesus stole your bitches?" Satan sulked and slumped further in his chair. "They have everyone whose ever lived up there now. We'll never reopen now." "No, we're going to fix this. Now sit up and listen to me you fuckin pussy!" Satan sat up and looked at me inquisitively. "All we gotta do is remind everyone that you can't die down here, yanno because we're already dead..." Satan sat up a little straighter and urged me on with his eyes. The loneliness seemed to give way to something...something that resembled hope. "So..." "So? So what?!!?!" His voice rumbled through the chamber. "So, we just need to bring the party back to hell! Don't you have a drug dealer or something? And booze, we need booze and girls. Grey goose and some Patrón-" "Did someone say El Patrón? You know what they say, speak of the..." "Don Pablo!!!" The devil screamed like a preteen girl at the sight of Justin Bieber. I was utterly speechless, who knew killing yourself could turn into such a fuckin hassle. "Mijo, listen to me, I know how to bring everyone back down to our fiesta." I stood there looking like a slack-jawwed idiot as I watched the devil get up from the throne he sat upon and make way for THE Pablo Escobar. Pablo sauntered up to the steps and slowly ascended to the throne. "Wait, hold on a minute, you're the one in charge down here? That's-" the Devil slapped me so hard I flew back 20 feet into a wall. "Do not speak ill of Don Pablo." "Now listen to me, Diablo, mijo, we have a shipment coming in from Hades soon, when that comes in mis asociados will begin to push it to the low lives on the streets of Heaven. Your little friend here can get naked and head into the packaging room and we can discuss bringing Zeus and Ares over to discuss...business." "Wait, wait! Hold on, let me help you guys I stuck around when no one else did don't make me your bitch please Don Pablo." I begged for mercy for the first time in my existence that day, not from God or from the Devil himself, but none other than Pablo Fucking Escobar. The Columbian cocaine emperor. Literally the most powerful man to ever exist. "Mm. Okay pinche puta, you can help us. When the shipment arrives you can transport it to Heaven for us, and soon we will restore our Home to its former glorious state of debauchery." And so began my eternal service to the real Devil himself. We flooded the streets of Heaven with sweet Peruvian booger sugar and brought some of the toughest party animals of all time back down to the dark side. Genghis Kahn, Joseph Stalin, Ben Franklin, Thomas Edison, and Chris Farley were among the first to return. For the next 1000 years we let the party rage, stealing the bitches back from Jesus and God and never sleeping thanks to Don Pablo's multiple plugs. I think at one point I banged Lindsay Lohan for like 3 months, but that was a rough patch and may have just been her career. It was the sickest rager in the history of eternity, and nothing changed until the turn of the next millenia, humans on Earth had finally done away with cigarettes entirely...and Keith Richards showed up.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	The soft tones of the ancient wind instrument trailed off as the Lord of Hell finally acknowledged my presence in his domain “You…play the harmonica?” I asked, still trying to wrap my head around the features that now surrounded me. He set his harmonica down on a nearby table that was formed out of pumice, and had small trails of lava pouring out of holes in the sides quite artistically. He adjusted his position on the stool he sat upon to regard me, his amber eyes seeming to pierce right through to my soul…if I still had one. “Indeed. This particular specimen is one of the first mass-produced examples of the modern day instrument you may be familiar with. I took it from the inventor as he came through my doors. “ Satan paused for a moment, “He left it to me when he decided to ascend, it was quite unfortunate that such a gracious man ended up in my custody.” He stood up and walked over to me, placing his hand upon my shoulder . Standing over 7 feet tall and powerfully built, he was as physically imposing a figure as one would imagine the keeper of the underworld to be. “You’re free to ascend as well, human. A new judgement was passed some time ago, no longer is anyone to be enslaved against their will.” I took a step back from him, looking down I reflected on the events that brought me here. “I know. Saint Peter informed me that I was eligible for entry into heaven. I chose this place instead.” With a curious grunt, Lucifer turned around and approached a void in the wall. He waved his hand across it and, like a hologram, key events in my life flashed across the space. Scenes of battle and lust, bigotry and slander streamed endlessly like a video loop until he cast it away. He didn’t even turn to address me, “You seem to have committed no atrocities, no war crimes. A few petty misdeeds, and certainly things that would have led to your disgrace under the old system, but far from the worst I’ve seen.” I shook my head softly in agreement. “So,” Another pause as he turned to face me again, “What lead you to choose this place? You have no family down here, no friends, no lovers. They’re up there, “ he pointed towards the roof of the chamber we were in, “enjoying themselves. Awaiting you.” Another pause, and then softer, “Everyone’s up there nowadays.” It was at this time that I could finally regard him directly, “And when I was hungry, cold, and alone…I remember what that felt like. They never helped me, instead I was saved by a very kind man who had never known me before. He said that I should do the same thing whenever I was given the opportunity, but I never was able to do so. Until now.” The Devil’s gaze softened, and he sat down on the same stool that I had encountered him on. He motioned me to join him on a similar one. “It’s been a long time since I was enjoyed for my company. Tell me, what would you like to do?” Sitting next to him, I only had one request: “Tell me your story, from your side of things.”	I walked kind of frantically towards the door at the end of the hall. It was super eerie and quiet all around me, I felt like at any moment someone, or something, was going to pop out of one of the doors surrounding me and do only God knows what. I quickened my pace towards the sound of the blues being blasted out of a harmonica. It sounded more and more like something out of an old western prison scene as I grew nearer. The passion and anguish tugged at my heart with every note. I almost forgot how goddamn hot it was down here. As I neared the entrance to the door the music stopped suddenly and a whiny voice called out to me, "Fuck off then, mate. Get the fuck out of here with the rest of them." I opened the door and almost had a heart attack. Before me sat a massive creature, he looked as though he was 10 feet tall and sat slouched on a throne of skulls. "What the fuck yer doin' 'ere then? I told ya fuck off." "Satan....y-you're Satan?" I stammered. "No ya bloody idiot, I'm Santa Clause." "Why are you talking in an Englis...no, Australian accent?" "Well, obviously, because I'm from down under, now leave before I kill you." "But-" "I said FUCK OFF!" the devil interrupted me. "Leave with the rest of them, Hell isn't cool anymore. Once God, that cunt....once He decided to take all the 'cool kids' back Hell is the worst place in the universe." "But isn't...nevermind, why would He want to take all of them back into heaven? Isn't the point to punish them for eternity?" "Well, that's what the bastard is doing, you humans got it all wrong. You see you always had a choice of where to go...it's just based on your character as a default. No one is being punished, but there's just two different choices, one for the losers, Heaven, and one for the cool kids, Hell. Down here, man could we fuckin party mate! And the girls, oh, the girls...Anyways, this fuckin loser's son Jesus started telling everyone drugs and alcohol were bad and would ruin eternity for them and now the dipsticks are all scared of me because of what they learned on Earth, and Jesus's fuckin lies!" "So let me get this straight, you, the Devil, Lucifer, the ultimate corrupter, are sitting here sulking all because Jesus stole your bitches?" Satan sulked and slumped further in his chair. "They have everyone whose ever lived up there now. We'll never reopen now." "No, we're going to fix this. Now sit up and listen to me you fuckin pussy!" Satan sat up and looked at me inquisitively. "All we gotta do is remind everyone that you can't die down here, yanno because we're already dead..." Satan sat up a little straighter and urged me on with his eyes. The loneliness seemed to give way to something...something that resembled hope. "So..." "So? So what?!!?!" His voice rumbled through the chamber. "So, we just need to bring the party back to hell! Don't you have a drug dealer or something? And booze, we need booze and girls. Grey goose and some Patrón-" "Did someone say El Patrón? You know what they say, speak of the..." "Don Pablo!!!" The devil screamed like a preteen girl at the sight of Justin Bieber. I was utterly speechless, who knew killing yourself could turn into such a fuckin hassle. "Mijo, listen to me, I know how to bring everyone back down to our fiesta." I stood there looking like a slack-jawwed idiot as I watched the devil get up from the throne he sat upon and make way for THE Pablo Escobar. Pablo sauntered up to the steps and slowly ascended to the throne. "Wait, hold on a minute, you're the one in charge down here? That's-" the Devil slapped me so hard I flew back 20 feet into a wall. "Do not speak ill of Don Pablo." "Now listen to me, Diablo, mijo, we have a shipment coming in from Hades soon, when that comes in mis asociados will begin to push it to the low lives on the streets of Heaven. Your little friend here can get naked and head into the packaging room and we can discuss bringing Zeus and Ares over to discuss...business." "Wait, wait! Hold on, let me help you guys I stuck around when no one else did don't make me your bitch please Don Pablo." I begged for mercy for the first time in my existence that day, not from God or from the Devil himself, but none other than Pablo Fucking Escobar. The Columbian cocaine emperor. Literally the most powerful man to ever exist. "Mm. Okay pinche puta, you can help us. When the shipment arrives you can transport it to Heaven for us, and soon we will restore our Home to its former glorious state of debauchery." And so began my eternal service to the real Devil himself. We flooded the streets of Heaven with sweet Peruvian booger sugar and brought some of the toughest party animals of all time back down to the dark side. Genghis Kahn, Joseph Stalin, Ben Franklin, Thomas Edison, and Chris Farley were among the first to return. For the next 1000 years we let the party rage, stealing the bitches back from Jesus and God and never sleeping thanks to Don Pablo's multiple plugs. I think at one point I banged Lindsay Lohan for like 3 months, but that was a rough patch and may have just been her career. It was the sickest rager in the history of eternity, and nothing changed until the turn of the next millenia, humans on Earth had finally done away with cigarettes entirely...and Keith Richards showed up.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	>Oh God damnit! I spun around confused. Just moments earlier I'd been walking down the street, and now I was in a cold, dark, lifeless...abyss. Before me was terror incarnate. Black horns over a foot long sprung from the stranger's red face. Well, red everything. This had to be Satan. The giant figure sighed, sat down a harmonica, and stood. >Just when I finally...sigh...welcome to Hell, darkness and everlasting torment...whatever. I am the dark one, Satan. Not knowing what to say I offered a meager head nod. Should I bow? >No, don't bow. Just prepare yourself for pain and terror for the rest of eternity. I felt myself starting to panic, looking around for escape or help. The realization hit me I'm all alone with the most evil creature ever brought into creation. And apparently the bastard can read my thoughts. Wait, why am I alone with...it? Where is everyone? >Yes, that's right. It's just you and me. And I will make you suffer. But before we begin I must warn you. Whatever you do, DO NOT go through the door marked exit. An exit? In Hell? Should I try... >Oh no, don't, stop, I'm warning you. Without thinking another moment I sprinted towards the door. Satan didn't even give chase. As I pulled the door open a blinding, white light sprung through. >Oh no, another one got away. Well, guess I'll just enjoy a little peace and quiet. As the door shut behind me all I could hear was stilted harmonica music interspersed with booming laughter.	I arrived like anyone would arrive. A small dose of confusion, a vague sequence of flashbacks to a less than satisfactory life, and a recognition it was far hotter than normal. I began to sweat almost immediately. Looking around me, what I saw was almost beautiful in its apocalyptic appearance. Large caverns stretching into empty dark nothingness. Canyons into what could only be described as churning blood below. My feet seemed to walk on their own accord as I wandered further into the catacombs. Despite the sweltering heat, the walls were cool to the touch. Even the air was crisp and breathable. It almost seemed as if the heat were coming from a fever, the more I traversed the tunnels. As I went, I realized I was descending. The thick maroon waterways rising closer to me each time I reached an open space. The memories were coming more frequently, at greater length now. A small apartment came into view, liquor bottles and cockroaches were everywhere. There were flashes of a woman's angry eyes, then tears. There was a numbness to my left arm and a slowness of breath. Then the sound of a belt coming undone. Flashing red and blue lights filling the frost covered windows, then nothing. It could have been a bad dream, still, I think I always knew where I was. Finally, when I shook off the fog of a past life, I found myself walking through an opening to a vast space. As I scanned the rubble, I realized there were streets and buildings, chains busted from the doors, fire licking up from floating streetlamps. In the far distance statues carved to resemble gargoyles and giants, angels and serpents. It all seemed to be reminiscent of a labyrinth, taking me to the once beating heart of a parched, dark Atlantis. Her final words started ringing in my ears "You promised me you'd be different, look at the mess You've made. You swore when you got back, things would change." Then I saw him, well no. I guess I heard him. As I was passing the last of the winding brick and stucco walls, a soft weeping melody, in A minor. I descended into the basin of a large square and there he was. Leaning against a sand filled fountain in the center. Not what I imagined. No horns to speak of, no tail either. The only sense I was meeting something other worldly was the strange thin air surrounding us, and a hint of eery calm to it all. When he heard my footsteps he lifted his head, not breaking melody and opened his eyes. One red, one blue, both tearful. As I reached the bottom of the staircase, he stood straight, and breathed his last note into the instrument. It came out a somber baritone. He smiled. "I've been waiting, praying for you for an eternity." As soon as that, he vanished, just like fog in the sunlight. I could feel a sudden heaviness in my pocket. Reaching down, I pulled out a small silver harmonica. I walked over to the fountain, leaned my back against it, took up a C note, and I've been here ever since. Just been here, waiting for you to come. I'll see you soon.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	"Hello?" I called out into a seemingly endless abyss. I heard a weepy wobbly minor chord play on a harmonica behind me. There, in front of my own two eyes was the lord of darkness himself, slouched back on a rocking chair playing the blues. I trembled in his presence but noticed he was unamused by me. "Um, hi." I said quietly. He spat what appeared to be lava into a spittoon that seemingly constituted itself. "What you want?" He said in a low charred voice. "Are you...the devil?" "You mean the ruler of the underworld, Diablo, king of the damned, foulest of the foul? "Yeah him." "That guy hasn't been around here for a while, looks like nobody needs him anymore. He's out of a job. It's just me, Rusty McJackoff." I could see that he was down on his luck, so I walked over to him and went down to one knee. "There's nobody here who wants to drown my blasphemous soul in lakes of fire?" I could see his eyes light up, literally, flames appeared in his eyes, but it was to no avail. "He's dead." Satan threw his harmonica yards into the distance and crossed his arms. "I bet he's here. He's just...out of practice." Satan narrowed his eyes and stuck his claw out at me, "You gonna leave like the rest of 'um?" I put my hands in my pockets and shrugged my shoulders, "Well, most of the people who I can't stand are in Heaven. And if I'm the only one here, maybe we can be friends for eternity." Satan disappeared in a cloud of smoke then reappeared in front of me, in a fine demonic suit and with a red pitch fork. "I still have to torture your soul, but we can hang out. I can promote you to demon if things go well." "I had a feeling you'd say that. Eh, that's fine." Satan looked at me and smiled, "Wow, you are a great guy, why did you even get sent here?" I sighed, "I'm gay and Jewish." Satan rolled his eyes, "You know that's bullshit. Let me check your sins...Wow, I'm impressed. Murder seems to be your favorite." "Eh, it's a living." I grin from ear to ear. We both high five. End.	I arrived like anyone would arrive. A small dose of confusion, a vague sequence of flashbacks to a less than satisfactory life, and a recognition it was far hotter than normal. I began to sweat almost immediately. Looking around me, what I saw was almost beautiful in its apocalyptic appearance. Large caverns stretching into empty dark nothingness. Canyons into what could only be described as churning blood below. My feet seemed to walk on their own accord as I wandered further into the catacombs. Despite the sweltering heat, the walls were cool to the touch. Even the air was crisp and breathable. It almost seemed as if the heat were coming from a fever, the more I traversed the tunnels. As I went, I realized I was descending. The thick maroon waterways rising closer to me each time I reached an open space. The memories were coming more frequently, at greater length now. A small apartment came into view, liquor bottles and cockroaches were everywhere. There were flashes of a woman's angry eyes, then tears. There was a numbness to my left arm and a slowness of breath. Then the sound of a belt coming undone. Flashing red and blue lights filling the frost covered windows, then nothing. It could have been a bad dream, still, I think I always knew where I was. Finally, when I shook off the fog of a past life, I found myself walking through an opening to a vast space. As I scanned the rubble, I realized there were streets and buildings, chains busted from the doors, fire licking up from floating streetlamps. In the far distance statues carved to resemble gargoyles and giants, angels and serpents. It all seemed to be reminiscent of a labyrinth, taking me to the once beating heart of a parched, dark Atlantis. Her final words started ringing in my ears "You promised me you'd be different, look at the mess You've made. You swore when you got back, things would change." Then I saw him, well no. I guess I heard him. As I was passing the last of the winding brick and stucco walls, a soft weeping melody, in A minor. I descended into the basin of a large square and there he was. Leaning against a sand filled fountain in the center. Not what I imagined. No horns to speak of, no tail either. The only sense I was meeting something other worldly was the strange thin air surrounding us, and a hint of eery calm to it all. When he heard my footsteps he lifted his head, not breaking melody and opened his eyes. One red, one blue, both tearful. As I reached the bottom of the staircase, he stood straight, and breathed his last note into the instrument. It came out a somber baritone. He smiled. "I've been waiting, praying for you for an eternity." As soon as that, he vanished, just like fog in the sunlight. I could feel a sudden heaviness in my pocket. Reaching down, I pulled out a small silver harmonica. I walked over to the fountain, leaned my back against it, took up a C note, and I've been here ever since. Just been here, waiting for you to come. I'll see you soon.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	There were no screams when I entered Hell. I was shocked, having been raised in a Christian family, but there were no sounds of people being tortured, no crackling of the insane demons who resided in the pits of Hell. The only sound I was the sound of a harmonica, playing a very blues-esc tune. I did what was natural to a person in an unfamiliar landscape- I followed the sound. It walked for what felt like hours searching for the source of the music. Through lakes of fire and fields of brimstone I traveled before finally seeing who- or what- was playing the harmonica. I thought I was prepared for anything. I was not prepared to see Satan, the King of Babylon himself, playing the harmonica whilst looking miserable. He had noticed me almost immediately, and stopped playing. "Why are you still here?" He had asked, his voice filled with sadness and.. something else. Was it anger? Hatred? I couldn't tell. "What do you mean? This is Hell, where the sinners go for eternal damnation. I can't leave," I replied, staring at him. I quickly jumped back when I realized that I was having a civil conversation with the Evil One. Satan sighed, and the harmonica burned to a crisp, as though it were made out of paper. "You've noticed it, haven't you? The lack of screaming, the terrifying silence, the emptyness. People- and demons- have been leaving here, escaping their eternal punishment, all due to Him offering them salvation, even after thousands of years of sins and punishment. He updated his rules, just because of His son's return to Earth," he pauses, looking out over the fields formerly filled with scores of tortured souls. "So you are saying that I am free to go to Heaven, despite having committed the horrid crimes that I have?" He nods, looking at me. "You aren't even supposed to be in here for that. What you did was self defense. The suicide afterwards is what sent you here, but yes, mortal. You may leave. All you must do is pray towards Him. It will burn, but you will be immortalized in Heaven. No leave- I will be practicing my harmonica," at this point, he sounded downright miserable. I felt bad for the devil. I pitied Lucifer, and I shouldn't. I should fear him, but he sounds so broken. Millennia of watching over the worst people that the Earth has known, undone due to a change of God's Terms of Service. I made a decision that would define me for eternity. "I have a question for you, Abaddon," He looks at me, surprised at either being addressed directly by a mortal, or being called by his Hebrew name. "You play harmonica, but, according to an old bluegrass song, you played the fiddle. Is that true?" He laughed, grinning. "Well, seems like that old contest with Johnny is famous after all. I understand that you played the fiddle when you were among the mortal plane?" I nodded. "You could probably teach me a few things though. The question is, will you?" "Of course I will. Beware though- this training will put you through Hell," he laughed, crafting two violins out of the fire surrounding us. "It's a good thing that I'm already there then, right?" And then we played.	I arrived like anyone would arrive. A small dose of confusion, a vague sequence of flashbacks to a less than satisfactory life, and a recognition it was far hotter than normal. I began to sweat almost immediately. Looking around me, what I saw was almost beautiful in its apocalyptic appearance. Large caverns stretching into empty dark nothingness. Canyons into what could only be described as churning blood below. My feet seemed to walk on their own accord as I wandered further into the catacombs. Despite the sweltering heat, the walls were cool to the touch. Even the air was crisp and breathable. It almost seemed as if the heat were coming from a fever, the more I traversed the tunnels. As I went, I realized I was descending. The thick maroon waterways rising closer to me each time I reached an open space. The memories were coming more frequently, at greater length now. A small apartment came into view, liquor bottles and cockroaches were everywhere. There were flashes of a woman's angry eyes, then tears. There was a numbness to my left arm and a slowness of breath. Then the sound of a belt coming undone. Flashing red and blue lights filling the frost covered windows, then nothing. It could have been a bad dream, still, I think I always knew where I was. Finally, when I shook off the fog of a past life, I found myself walking through an opening to a vast space. As I scanned the rubble, I realized there were streets and buildings, chains busted from the doors, fire licking up from floating streetlamps. In the far distance statues carved to resemble gargoyles and giants, angels and serpents. It all seemed to be reminiscent of a labyrinth, taking me to the once beating heart of a parched, dark Atlantis. Her final words started ringing in my ears "You promised me you'd be different, look at the mess You've made. You swore when you got back, things would change." Then I saw him, well no. I guess I heard him. As I was passing the last of the winding brick and stucco walls, a soft weeping melody, in A minor. I descended into the basin of a large square and there he was. Leaning against a sand filled fountain in the center. Not what I imagined. No horns to speak of, no tail either. The only sense I was meeting something other worldly was the strange thin air surrounding us, and a hint of eery calm to it all. When he heard my footsteps he lifted his head, not breaking melody and opened his eyes. One red, one blue, both tearful. As I reached the bottom of the staircase, he stood straight, and breathed his last note into the instrument. It came out a somber baritone. He smiled. "I've been waiting, praying for you for an eternity." As soon as that, he vanished, just like fog in the sunlight. I could feel a sudden heaviness in my pocket. Reaching down, I pulled out a small silver harmonica. I walked over to the fountain, leaned my back against it, took up a C note, and I've been here ever since. Just been here, waiting for you to come. I'll see you soon.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	All around me were the ruins of what once must have been a great city, now deserted, and devoid of any life - human or otherwise. Snowflakes kept falling from the ever-grey sky, covering the broken buildings and streets with a thin, white dusting. I shivered. In the distance someone was playing the harmonica, a sad and sorrowful tune. Walking towards the sound, I came to a building - less ruined than the others I had passed - and I noticed a faint light shining through its boarded-up windows and from under its simple, wooden front door. I knocked, then entered, trying not drag too much snow inside with my boots. The room beyond the door might once have been called cozy - bookshelves on one wall, a fire in an open fireplace on the other, a desk and some cushy chairs - but now it all looked old and worn. The harmonica's melody stopped when I entered, and the player - sitting on one of the chairs - turned his head towards me. "Ah, there you are. I was wondering when you'd show up. Please, close the door - it's rather chilly, no? - and take a seat." he spoke and motioned to the chairs. Slightly confused I did as he asked, then sat down in one of the chairs opposite his. "Who are you?" I asked "You have been waiting for me? And what is all this? Now that I think about it, I can't even recall how I got here in the first place." The man smiled a sad smile. "To answer your questions: This is Hell. Quite litterally. And I am Satan. The Devil. Lucifer. I think you get it. As to how you got here: Simple, you died, was measured and found lacking, and so you ended up here." "I died and went to Hell?" I asked incredulousy "This is Hell? Aren't there supposed to be lakes of lava or something? And I thought Satan looked different, ya know, more demonic, horns, goat feet, and so on." - I gestured at the tired looking man in his worn-out suit - "You - no offense - look rather ordinary. Also you didn't answer me why I can't remember anything." The man who claimed to be Satan sighed. "I had a looooong chat with the folks who first brought up that 'Fire and Brimstone' nonsense. Really considered going the extra mile for them, just so they could have a first-hand comparison of both experiences. And do you really want me to be horrible and scary? It's been a while - honestly I like this body better, hard to play the harmonica with claws and all - but if you insist..." For a moment I thought I saw something flicker in his eyes. I decided to err on the side of caution. "No. No need to bother. You are fine just as you are, I was just curious." The flicker disappeared. "Regarding your memory," the man continued "that is a side effect of being in Hell; you forget things - keeps the experience fresh, ya know. Though the memories of your life should come back once you leave." "Wait a minute," I interrupted him "'Once I leave'? I thought being in Hell meant that you were there for all eternity, for forever. So how is it possible for me to leave - not that I mind tough, looking outside I can imagine better places to be." "To be honest" he replied with a tired look "that is exactly the thing. 'Eternity'. 'Forever'. There have not been any new arrivals for quintillions of years, and now finally 'Everything' is over. Time and Space are over. 'Forever' is over. You have served your time, so to say." Once more he sighed "And it would be hardly fair to release you to Heaven with memories 'eternal suffering' - now don't look at me like this, it might not have been fire and brimstone, but I made sure you paid your dues and it was not pleasant. Anyway, so you forgot, and when you leave you will remember your life, good and bad, and you will remember that you paid for your sins - though not the details - so you can enjoy Heaven." I didn't know what to say, and just nodded dumbly. "So, go on," he gestured to a second door in the room - one that I could have sworn had not been there when I first entered - "go on to Heaven. I made sure you earned it - you can take my word." Getting to my feet I took a few hesitant steps toward the second door as I heard him resume playing that sad melody on his harmonica. "What about you?" I asked. He lifted the instrument from his lips and gave me a small, geniune smile. "Very kind of you to ask. But don't worry about me. As I said, I'm closing shop. This here is my penance, there might still be a few souls left, but when the last straggler has gone, I will turn out the lights and too leave through that door. Until then I pass the time with my harmonica." I nodded, and with the sound of his harmonica in my ears, stepped through the door to Heaven.	I arrived like anyone would arrive. A small dose of confusion, a vague sequence of flashbacks to a less than satisfactory life, and a recognition it was far hotter than normal. I began to sweat almost immediately. Looking around me, what I saw was almost beautiful in its apocalyptic appearance. Large caverns stretching into empty dark nothingness. Canyons into what could only be described as churning blood below. My feet seemed to walk on their own accord as I wandered further into the catacombs. Despite the sweltering heat, the walls were cool to the touch. Even the air was crisp and breathable. It almost seemed as if the heat were coming from a fever, the more I traversed the tunnels. As I went, I realized I was descending. The thick maroon waterways rising closer to me each time I reached an open space. The memories were coming more frequently, at greater length now. A small apartment came into view, liquor bottles and cockroaches were everywhere. There were flashes of a woman's angry eyes, then tears. There was a numbness to my left arm and a slowness of breath. Then the sound of a belt coming undone. Flashing red and blue lights filling the frost covered windows, then nothing. It could have been a bad dream, still, I think I always knew where I was. Finally, when I shook off the fog of a past life, I found myself walking through an opening to a vast space. As I scanned the rubble, I realized there were streets and buildings, chains busted from the doors, fire licking up from floating streetlamps. In the far distance statues carved to resemble gargoyles and giants, angels and serpents. It all seemed to be reminiscent of a labyrinth, taking me to the once beating heart of a parched, dark Atlantis. Her final words started ringing in my ears "You promised me you'd be different, look at the mess You've made. You swore when you got back, things would change." Then I saw him, well no. I guess I heard him. As I was passing the last of the winding brick and stucco walls, a soft weeping melody, in A minor. I descended into the basin of a large square and there he was. Leaning against a sand filled fountain in the center. Not what I imagined. No horns to speak of, no tail either. The only sense I was meeting something other worldly was the strange thin air surrounding us, and a hint of eery calm to it all. When he heard my footsteps he lifted his head, not breaking melody and opened his eyes. One red, one blue, both tearful. As I reached the bottom of the staircase, he stood straight, and breathed his last note into the instrument. It came out a somber baritone. He smiled. "I've been waiting, praying for you for an eternity." As soon as that, he vanished, just like fog in the sunlight. I could feel a sudden heaviness in my pocket. Reaching down, I pulled out a small silver harmonica. I walked over to the fountain, leaned my back against it, took up a C note, and I've been here ever since. Just been here, waiting for you to come. I'll see you soon.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	I step forward into a well lit bar. The place is completely empty except for Al Pachino sitting on a bar stool under a pin spot on the center stage wailing on a harmonica. I look down and I’m dressed in a perfectly tailored three piece suit, and my shoes glow in the light softened by red gels. Al is now playing hook and I feel myself being pulled toward the stage; when I’m but a few feet from it another pin spot finds me and bathes me in brilliant white light. The music stops. I look up at him and say, “Wh…” The man’s lips curl around his mouth, “Who am I?” He extended his hand and a flaming glass of liquid appeared. He blew the flame out and took a sip from the glass. “You know who I am, and you know where you are, now say it.” “I’m…I’m…” “Come on now, say it like you’ve got a pair,” He demanded. “I’m dead. There was an accident, and a fire, and I didn’t survive,” I spoke each word as if I were learning the information as I was explaining it. “So is this what, a weigh station for my next life?” Al laughed, “No, you lived your life, your one shot. Was it everything you wanted?” “No, not by a long shot. So if I don’t go on, is this heaven?” He shook his head, “Nope. You my friend are in hell, and me? I’m the Devil, Satan, Lucifer, so on and so on.” “Al Pachino isn’t even dead yet… wait, why the fuck am I in hell?” I yelled as my emotions shifted from confused to angry. He sighed and snapped his fingers turning into the Robot Devil from futurama, “Is this better?” He snapped again and flashed over to a more standard, red pitchfork wielding redheaded woman. “How about this?” “Fine, you’re the Devil, I’m in hell, the question is why?” “You didn’t believe in anything. None of the religions are right, but you didn’t believe in any of them, or anything. You didn’t have to believe in the dogma of the religion, but Bill wanted you to believe in him.” “Fuck, so I’m stuck here, for an eternity? Where is Hitler, Stalin, Bea Arthur? Why is it so empty in here? Wait, Bill?” I shook my head in disbelief. “Yeah, god’s name is Bill. The reason it’s empty in here is because if you believe in Bill you take the express lane over there, straight to whatever version of heaven you can imagine.” “So, Bill sent me to hell because I didn’t believe in him. That sounds a little spiteful, right? What are you in for?” “You’re familiar with the gatekeeper?” The beautiful woman asked. “Dana from Ghostbusters, Sigourney Weaver?” I asked. The woman faded into Zuul then jumped off the stage to stand in front of me and in that voice asked, “Are you a god?” Instantly she began to laugh. I laughed just as hard and then said, “Ray, when someone asks if you’re a god, you say yes!” I slapped her on the shoulder and laughed some more. Zuul faded into a man with a long flowing white beard holding a scroll and quill pen, in front of us on the stage gates began to form from the shadows. “I was thinking more like Saint Peter. That’s more or less who I am. I am the gatekeeper between the world you came from and the afterlife. “ “Does everyone get in?” I asked. “Most, but there are a few who don’t feel they’re ready, or some that are so paranoid they expect it to be a test. So they just sit here praying silently to themselves.” I glanced around the bar and said, “But we’re alone.” “Are we?” The old man shifted back into the form of Al Pachino and ascended back to his bar stool perch on the stage. With a wave of his hand, suddenly the bar was filled with people from all different walks of life. The bar now had a young topless woman. her arms tattooed in full sleeves behind the counter drinking liquid in and spiting it out across an open flame, a bright orange fireball passed over the bar. The people sitting on stools ducked and instinctively before sitting back up. Another table had nuns praying the rosary, next to them another group of Hasidic Jews murmured among themselves keeping nearly silent vigil. There were men in suits wandering toward me, and women in every manner of outfit from short black dress to full length ball gown. I turned back to Al and when I did the noises died down all around me as the people vanished. Al looked down at me as I looked up at him and he played a short riff on the glimmering harmonica, and when he finished he said, “Do you recognized Bill to be your creator, and responsible for all that you are?” “If I did, that would mean I didn’t believe in free will. I can’t do that, I’m every bit as responsible for who I am as some absentee father figure. So no, I can’t say that.” “You do realize that you’ll be banished to this place for all eternity right?” I smiled and said, “Bring back the people, and lets get this party started. Do you take requests? How about The Devil Went Down to Georgia?” “Not that fucking song, do you think I could be beaten in a contest? I’ve been doing this for eons you think Charlie Daniels with fifty years of practice is going to beat me? Fuck that guy.”	I arrived like anyone would arrive. A small dose of confusion, a vague sequence of flashbacks to a less than satisfactory life, and a recognition it was far hotter than normal. I began to sweat almost immediately. Looking around me, what I saw was almost beautiful in its apocalyptic appearance. Large caverns stretching into empty dark nothingness. Canyons into what could only be described as churning blood below. My feet seemed to walk on their own accord as I wandered further into the catacombs. Despite the sweltering heat, the walls were cool to the touch. Even the air was crisp and breathable. It almost seemed as if the heat were coming from a fever, the more I traversed the tunnels. As I went, I realized I was descending. The thick maroon waterways rising closer to me each time I reached an open space. The memories were coming more frequently, at greater length now. A small apartment came into view, liquor bottles and cockroaches were everywhere. There were flashes of a woman's angry eyes, then tears. There was a numbness to my left arm and a slowness of breath. Then the sound of a belt coming undone. Flashing red and blue lights filling the frost covered windows, then nothing. It could have been a bad dream, still, I think I always knew where I was. Finally, when I shook off the fog of a past life, I found myself walking through an opening to a vast space. As I scanned the rubble, I realized there were streets and buildings, chains busted from the doors, fire licking up from floating streetlamps. In the far distance statues carved to resemble gargoyles and giants, angels and serpents. It all seemed to be reminiscent of a labyrinth, taking me to the once beating heart of a parched, dark Atlantis. Her final words started ringing in my ears "You promised me you'd be different, look at the mess You've made. You swore when you got back, things would change." Then I saw him, well no. I guess I heard him. As I was passing the last of the winding brick and stucco walls, a soft weeping melody, in A minor. I descended into the basin of a large square and there he was. Leaning against a sand filled fountain in the center. Not what I imagined. No horns to speak of, no tail either. The only sense I was meeting something other worldly was the strange thin air surrounding us, and a hint of eery calm to it all. When he heard my footsteps he lifted his head, not breaking melody and opened his eyes. One red, one blue, both tearful. As I reached the bottom of the staircase, he stood straight, and breathed his last note into the instrument. It came out a somber baritone. He smiled. "I've been waiting, praying for you for an eternity." As soon as that, he vanished, just like fog in the sunlight. I could feel a sudden heaviness in my pocket. Reaching down, I pulled out a small silver harmonica. I walked over to the fountain, leaned my back against it, took up a C note, and I've been here ever since. Just been here, waiting for you to come. I'll see you soon.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	The soft tones of the ancient wind instrument trailed off as the Lord of Hell finally acknowledged my presence in his domain “You…play the harmonica?” I asked, still trying to wrap my head around the features that now surrounded me. He set his harmonica down on a nearby table that was formed out of pumice, and had small trails of lava pouring out of holes in the sides quite artistically. He adjusted his position on the stool he sat upon to regard me, his amber eyes seeming to pierce right through to my soul…if I still had one. “Indeed. This particular specimen is one of the first mass-produced examples of the modern day instrument you may be familiar with. I took it from the inventor as he came through my doors. “ Satan paused for a moment, “He left it to me when he decided to ascend, it was quite unfortunate that such a gracious man ended up in my custody.” He stood up and walked over to me, placing his hand upon my shoulder . Standing over 7 feet tall and powerfully built, he was as physically imposing a figure as one would imagine the keeper of the underworld to be. “You’re free to ascend as well, human. A new judgement was passed some time ago, no longer is anyone to be enslaved against their will.” I took a step back from him, looking down I reflected on the events that brought me here. “I know. Saint Peter informed me that I was eligible for entry into heaven. I chose this place instead.” With a curious grunt, Lucifer turned around and approached a void in the wall. He waved his hand across it and, like a hologram, key events in my life flashed across the space. Scenes of battle and lust, bigotry and slander streamed endlessly like a video loop until he cast it away. He didn’t even turn to address me, “You seem to have committed no atrocities, no war crimes. A few petty misdeeds, and certainly things that would have led to your disgrace under the old system, but far from the worst I’ve seen.” I shook my head softly in agreement. “So,” Another pause as he turned to face me again, “What lead you to choose this place? You have no family down here, no friends, no lovers. They’re up there, “ he pointed towards the roof of the chamber we were in, “enjoying themselves. Awaiting you.” Another pause, and then softer, “Everyone’s up there nowadays.” It was at this time that I could finally regard him directly, “And when I was hungry, cold, and alone…I remember what that felt like. They never helped me, instead I was saved by a very kind man who had never known me before. He said that I should do the same thing whenever I was given the opportunity, but I never was able to do so. Until now.” The Devil’s gaze softened, and he sat down on the same stool that I had encountered him on. He motioned me to join him on a similar one. “It’s been a long time since I was enjoyed for my company. Tell me, what would you like to do?” Sitting next to him, I only had one request: “Tell me your story, from your side of things.”	I arrived like anyone would arrive. A small dose of confusion, a vague sequence of flashbacks to a less than satisfactory life, and a recognition it was far hotter than normal. I began to sweat almost immediately. Looking around me, what I saw was almost beautiful in its apocalyptic appearance. Large caverns stretching into empty dark nothingness. Canyons into what could only be described as churning blood below. My feet seemed to walk on their own accord as I wandered further into the catacombs. Despite the sweltering heat, the walls were cool to the touch. Even the air was crisp and breathable. It almost seemed as if the heat were coming from a fever, the more I traversed the tunnels. As I went, I realized I was descending. The thick maroon waterways rising closer to me each time I reached an open space. The memories were coming more frequently, at greater length now. A small apartment came into view, liquor bottles and cockroaches were everywhere. There were flashes of a woman's angry eyes, then tears. There was a numbness to my left arm and a slowness of breath. Then the sound of a belt coming undone. Flashing red and blue lights filling the frost covered windows, then nothing. It could have been a bad dream, still, I think I always knew where I was. Finally, when I shook off the fog of a past life, I found myself walking through an opening to a vast space. As I scanned the rubble, I realized there were streets and buildings, chains busted from the doors, fire licking up from floating streetlamps. In the far distance statues carved to resemble gargoyles and giants, angels and serpents. It all seemed to be reminiscent of a labyrinth, taking me to the once beating heart of a parched, dark Atlantis. Her final words started ringing in my ears "You promised me you'd be different, look at the mess You've made. You swore when you got back, things would change." Then I saw him, well no. I guess I heard him. As I was passing the last of the winding brick and stucco walls, a soft weeping melody, in A minor. I descended into the basin of a large square and there he was. Leaning against a sand filled fountain in the center. Not what I imagined. No horns to speak of, no tail either. The only sense I was meeting something other worldly was the strange thin air surrounding us, and a hint of eery calm to it all. When he heard my footsteps he lifted his head, not breaking melody and opened his eyes. One red, one blue, both tearful. As I reached the bottom of the staircase, he stood straight, and breathed his last note into the instrument. It came out a somber baritone. He smiled. "I've been waiting, praying for you for an eternity." As soon as that, he vanished, just like fog in the sunlight. I could feel a sudden heaviness in my pocket. Reaching down, I pulled out a small silver harmonica. I walked over to the fountain, leaned my back against it, took up a C note, and I've been here ever since. Just been here, waiting for you to come. I'll see you soon.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	"Hello?" I called out into a seemingly endless abyss. I heard a weepy wobbly minor chord play on a harmonica behind me. There, in front of my own two eyes was the lord of darkness himself, slouched back on a rocking chair playing the blues. I trembled in his presence but noticed he was unamused by me. "Um, hi." I said quietly. He spat what appeared to be lava into a spittoon that seemingly constituted itself. "What you want?" He said in a low charred voice. "Are you...the devil?" "You mean the ruler of the underworld, Diablo, king of the damned, foulest of the foul? "Yeah him." "That guy hasn't been around here for a while, looks like nobody needs him anymore. He's out of a job. It's just me, Rusty McJackoff." I could see that he was down on his luck, so I walked over to him and went down to one knee. "There's nobody here who wants to drown my blasphemous soul in lakes of fire?" I could see his eyes light up, literally, flames appeared in his eyes, but it was to no avail. "He's dead." Satan threw his harmonica yards into the distance and crossed his arms. "I bet he's here. He's just...out of practice." Satan narrowed his eyes and stuck his claw out at me, "You gonna leave like the rest of 'um?" I put my hands in my pockets and shrugged my shoulders, "Well, most of the people who I can't stand are in Heaven. And if I'm the only one here, maybe we can be friends for eternity." Satan disappeared in a cloud of smoke then reappeared in front of me, in a fine demonic suit and with a red pitch fork. "I still have to torture your soul, but we can hang out. I can promote you to demon if things go well." "I had a feeling you'd say that. Eh, that's fine." Satan looked at me and smiled, "Wow, you are a great guy, why did you even get sent here?" I sighed, "I'm gay and Jewish." Satan rolled his eyes, "You know that's bullshit. Let me check your sins...Wow, I'm impressed. Murder seems to be your favorite." "Eh, it's a living." I grin from ear to ear. We both high five. End.	The bar was quiet when Josh walked in. 'How long had it been since I was last here?' He thought to himself as he crossed the floor toward the corner stage. The bar's patron sat on a stool on that stage, softly playing [an old song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YYsnRc09csQ) on his harmonica. Josh waited for the slow, mournful blues tune to end. Josh clapped as the other gentlemen stood and bowed. "So nice to see you," He said to Josh with a twinge of bitterness in his voice. "so few come by nowadays." Josh winced slightly at the statement; not because of it's vindictive nature, but at the barely disguised pain he heard behind the bitterness. "Care for a drink, Scratch?" Josh asked, using one of the more playful nicknames for the establishment's owner. Scratch agreed. An eternity seemed to pass. Considering the circumstances, an eternity probably did pass. Finally, Scratch asked the important question; "Why did you do it, kid?" "I think you already know." Josh responded. "You know, as well as I do, that they don't deserve it. You and your dad will regret this decision." Scratch said. "I doubt it. But then again, I've always had more faith in them than most." Josh replied. The room grew silent again. "So, what are you really here for? Your job is done, why come back?" Scratch asked suddenly. Josh took a breath, then spoke, "It's a job offer. We want you back with us. You'll be working with people again, and it would be a big improvement over an empty dive. Come and work for the good guys, Cypher." Josh used a new name for the old musician, based closely on Scratch's original title, just like 'Josh' was an approximation of his own original name. "I appreciate the offer, kid, but no thanks." Josh was confused at the answer, but accepted it as always. "Why?" he asked. "As one of our favorite writers once said, 'Tis better to reign in Hell, than serve in Heaven." Scratch replied. Josh chuckled at that. "Well, if you ever change your mind, you know the way." With that, he walked out the door. It creaked as it closed behind him. "Yeah, I know." Scratch said to the empty room, then went back to playing.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	There were no screams when I entered Hell. I was shocked, having been raised in a Christian family, but there were no sounds of people being tortured, no crackling of the insane demons who resided in the pits of Hell. The only sound I was the sound of a harmonica, playing a very blues-esc tune. I did what was natural to a person in an unfamiliar landscape- I followed the sound. It walked for what felt like hours searching for the source of the music. Through lakes of fire and fields of brimstone I traveled before finally seeing who- or what- was playing the harmonica. I thought I was prepared for anything. I was not prepared to see Satan, the King of Babylon himself, playing the harmonica whilst looking miserable. He had noticed me almost immediately, and stopped playing. "Why are you still here?" He had asked, his voice filled with sadness and.. something else. Was it anger? Hatred? I couldn't tell. "What do you mean? This is Hell, where the sinners go for eternal damnation. I can't leave," I replied, staring at him. I quickly jumped back when I realized that I was having a civil conversation with the Evil One. Satan sighed, and the harmonica burned to a crisp, as though it were made out of paper. "You've noticed it, haven't you? The lack of screaming, the terrifying silence, the emptyness. People- and demons- have been leaving here, escaping their eternal punishment, all due to Him offering them salvation, even after thousands of years of sins and punishment. He updated his rules, just because of His son's return to Earth," he pauses, looking out over the fields formerly filled with scores of tortured souls. "So you are saying that I am free to go to Heaven, despite having committed the horrid crimes that I have?" He nods, looking at me. "You aren't even supposed to be in here for that. What you did was self defense. The suicide afterwards is what sent you here, but yes, mortal. You may leave. All you must do is pray towards Him. It will burn, but you will be immortalized in Heaven. No leave- I will be practicing my harmonica," at this point, he sounded downright miserable. I felt bad for the devil. I pitied Lucifer, and I shouldn't. I should fear him, but he sounds so broken. Millennia of watching over the worst people that the Earth has known, undone due to a change of God's Terms of Service. I made a decision that would define me for eternity. "I have a question for you, Abaddon," He looks at me, surprised at either being addressed directly by a mortal, or being called by his Hebrew name. "You play harmonica, but, according to an old bluegrass song, you played the fiddle. Is that true?" He laughed, grinning. "Well, seems like that old contest with Johnny is famous after all. I understand that you played the fiddle when you were among the mortal plane?" I nodded. "You could probably teach me a few things though. The question is, will you?" "Of course I will. Beware though- this training will put you through Hell," he laughed, crafting two violins out of the fire surrounding us. "It's a good thing that I'm already there then, right?" And then we played.	The bar was quiet when Josh walked in. 'How long had it been since I was last here?' He thought to himself as he crossed the floor toward the corner stage. The bar's patron sat on a stool on that stage, softly playing [an old song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YYsnRc09csQ) on his harmonica. Josh waited for the slow, mournful blues tune to end. Josh clapped as the other gentlemen stood and bowed. "So nice to see you," He said to Josh with a twinge of bitterness in his voice. "so few come by nowadays." Josh winced slightly at the statement; not because of it's vindictive nature, but at the barely disguised pain he heard behind the bitterness. "Care for a drink, Scratch?" Josh asked, using one of the more playful nicknames for the establishment's owner. Scratch agreed. An eternity seemed to pass. Considering the circumstances, an eternity probably did pass. Finally, Scratch asked the important question; "Why did you do it, kid?" "I think you already know." Josh responded. "You know, as well as I do, that they don't deserve it. You and your dad will regret this decision." Scratch said. "I doubt it. But then again, I've always had more faith in them than most." Josh replied. The room grew silent again. "So, what are you really here for? Your job is done, why come back?" Scratch asked suddenly. Josh took a breath, then spoke, "It's a job offer. We want you back with us. You'll be working with people again, and it would be a big improvement over an empty dive. Come and work for the good guys, Cypher." Josh used a new name for the old musician, based closely on Scratch's original title, just like 'Josh' was an approximation of his own original name. "I appreciate the offer, kid, but no thanks." Josh was confused at the answer, but accepted it as always. "Why?" he asked. "As one of our favorite writers once said, 'Tis better to reign in Hell, than serve in Heaven." Scratch replied. Josh chuckled at that. "Well, if you ever change your mind, you know the way." With that, he walked out the door. It creaked as it closed behind him. "Yeah, I know." Scratch said to the empty room, then went back to playing.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	"Hello?" I called out into a seemingly endless abyss. I heard a weepy wobbly minor chord play on a harmonica behind me. There, in front of my own two eyes was the lord of darkness himself, slouched back on a rocking chair playing the blues. I trembled in his presence but noticed he was unamused by me. "Um, hi." I said quietly. He spat what appeared to be lava into a spittoon that seemingly constituted itself. "What you want?" He said in a low charred voice. "Are you...the devil?" "You mean the ruler of the underworld, Diablo, king of the damned, foulest of the foul? "Yeah him." "That guy hasn't been around here for a while, looks like nobody needs him anymore. He's out of a job. It's just me, Rusty McJackoff." I could see that he was down on his luck, so I walked over to him and went down to one knee. "There's nobody here who wants to drown my blasphemous soul in lakes of fire?" I could see his eyes light up, literally, flames appeared in his eyes, but it was to no avail. "He's dead." Satan threw his harmonica yards into the distance and crossed his arms. "I bet he's here. He's just...out of practice." Satan narrowed his eyes and stuck his claw out at me, "You gonna leave like the rest of 'um?" I put my hands in my pockets and shrugged my shoulders, "Well, most of the people who I can't stand are in Heaven. And if I'm the only one here, maybe we can be friends for eternity." Satan disappeared in a cloud of smoke then reappeared in front of me, in a fine demonic suit and with a red pitch fork. "I still have to torture your soul, but we can hang out. I can promote you to demon if things go well." "I had a feeling you'd say that. Eh, that's fine." Satan looked at me and smiled, "Wow, you are a great guy, why did you even get sent here?" I sighed, "I'm gay and Jewish." Satan rolled his eyes, "You know that's bullshit. Let me check your sins...Wow, I'm impressed. Murder seems to be your favorite." "Eh, it's a living." I grin from ear to ear. We both high five. End.	I turned down yet another path in a seemingly endless series of caverns, finally seeing some form of light at the end of the tunnel. My feet ached and my eyes were sore from squinting in the gloom, but finally there was light. Stepping out of the tunnel, I found myself in a massive cavern, lit with torches, ringed with empty thrones meant for awesome and cruel masters. It seemed to stretch upward forever, fading into dark without any sign of end. There was music from somewhere, a soulful and bluesy tune. Reminded me of the songs my dad taught me when I was a kid. I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't this. I expected a little more foot traffic. "Excuse me?" I called into the gloom. My words reverberated off the walls and echoed up the chamber. Something's wrong, I thought. One expects some manner of greeting party, maybe an orientation, at the very least some security at the gates of Hell. All I see are stones and flames. I hear nothing the but the wistful notes of the song. "Is anybody home?" I called out again. The music stopped, cut off mid-melody, the last staccato note dying just as a new sound began; the beating of great, heavy wings. The chamber filled with a torrent of air as a shape began to coalesce in the darkness above. A massive beast, larger than any living creature that walks the earth, descended from the black above. His great scaled feet smashed into the earthen floor, large cruel talons digging into the rock. His skin had the red luminescence of magma, and his eyes were rings of flame. "You have disturbed my peace, mortal!" the beast cried, his mighty voice shaking the very ground below me. "What seek you in this place? Why come before the great and terrible Lucifer, prince of Darkness?" He lowered his head to look at me, one great eye fixed upon me. For a moment, fear held me. Then, I cleared my throat and spoke. "Ahem, well, um, I'm here to file for a B-32 post-Corporeal? I was told I need to bring this to your department directly for approval." I reached into my jacket and pulled out a manila envelope, offering it to him. The lord of darkness sighed a great sigh, bathing me in warm breath. "Very well," he said, "give me the document." He took the envelope from my hands and put on his massive, evil eyeglasses. He skimmed through the paperwork for a moment, muttering to himself. "Do you have two forms of photo ID with you?" he asked. "They're in the envelope," I shouted up to him. "Hm, yes, so they are." He read for another moment or two. "This is your current address on here?" he said, pointing to a line on the paper. I nodded, and he continued reading. I crossed my arms and rock back and forth a little, looking around with the aimless nature of curiosity and boredom. The wait seemed to go on forever. Satan, King of Evil, wrote something in pen on the margins of the paper and handed it back. "That looks like it's all in order," he said, "But you'll have to file a P-906 before February if you want to keep your soul after the first 300 centuries." "Great, thanks," I said. I looked back into the gloom behind me, tucking the envelope back into my pocket. I turned back to Satan for a moment. "Which, um...?" I began. "Back through the cave you came through, third tunnel on your right, then two lefts and you're out" he said, then flew back up into the darkness. As I walked back into the cave, I could hear the metal hum of a harmonica from somewhere far away.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	There were no screams when I entered Hell. I was shocked, having been raised in a Christian family, but there were no sounds of people being tortured, no crackling of the insane demons who resided in the pits of Hell. The only sound I was the sound of a harmonica, playing a very blues-esc tune. I did what was natural to a person in an unfamiliar landscape- I followed the sound. It walked for what felt like hours searching for the source of the music. Through lakes of fire and fields of brimstone I traveled before finally seeing who- or what- was playing the harmonica. I thought I was prepared for anything. I was not prepared to see Satan, the King of Babylon himself, playing the harmonica whilst looking miserable. He had noticed me almost immediately, and stopped playing. "Why are you still here?" He had asked, his voice filled with sadness and.. something else. Was it anger? Hatred? I couldn't tell. "What do you mean? This is Hell, where the sinners go for eternal damnation. I can't leave," I replied, staring at him. I quickly jumped back when I realized that I was having a civil conversation with the Evil One. Satan sighed, and the harmonica burned to a crisp, as though it were made out of paper. "You've noticed it, haven't you? The lack of screaming, the terrifying silence, the emptyness. People- and demons- have been leaving here, escaping their eternal punishment, all due to Him offering them salvation, even after thousands of years of sins and punishment. He updated his rules, just because of His son's return to Earth," he pauses, looking out over the fields formerly filled with scores of tortured souls. "So you are saying that I am free to go to Heaven, despite having committed the horrid crimes that I have?" He nods, looking at me. "You aren't even supposed to be in here for that. What you did was self defense. The suicide afterwards is what sent you here, but yes, mortal. You may leave. All you must do is pray towards Him. It will burn, but you will be immortalized in Heaven. No leave- I will be practicing my harmonica," at this point, he sounded downright miserable. I felt bad for the devil. I pitied Lucifer, and I shouldn't. I should fear him, but he sounds so broken. Millennia of watching over the worst people that the Earth has known, undone due to a change of God's Terms of Service. I made a decision that would define me for eternity. "I have a question for you, Abaddon," He looks at me, surprised at either being addressed directly by a mortal, or being called by his Hebrew name. "You play harmonica, but, according to an old bluegrass song, you played the fiddle. Is that true?" He laughed, grinning. "Well, seems like that old contest with Johnny is famous after all. I understand that you played the fiddle when you were among the mortal plane?" I nodded. "You could probably teach me a few things though. The question is, will you?" "Of course I will. Beware though- this training will put you through Hell," he laughed, crafting two violins out of the fire surrounding us. "It's a good thing that I'm already there then, right?" And then we played.	I turned down yet another path in a seemingly endless series of caverns, finally seeing some form of light at the end of the tunnel. My feet ached and my eyes were sore from squinting in the gloom, but finally there was light. Stepping out of the tunnel, I found myself in a massive cavern, lit with torches, ringed with empty thrones meant for awesome and cruel masters. It seemed to stretch upward forever, fading into dark without any sign of end. There was music from somewhere, a soulful and bluesy tune. Reminded me of the songs my dad taught me when I was a kid. I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't this. I expected a little more foot traffic. "Excuse me?" I called into the gloom. My words reverberated off the walls and echoed up the chamber. Something's wrong, I thought. One expects some manner of greeting party, maybe an orientation, at the very least some security at the gates of Hell. All I see are stones and flames. I hear nothing the but the wistful notes of the song. "Is anybody home?" I called out again. The music stopped, cut off mid-melody, the last staccato note dying just as a new sound began; the beating of great, heavy wings. The chamber filled with a torrent of air as a shape began to coalesce in the darkness above. A massive beast, larger than any living creature that walks the earth, descended from the black above. His great scaled feet smashed into the earthen floor, large cruel talons digging into the rock. His skin had the red luminescence of magma, and his eyes were rings of flame. "You have disturbed my peace, mortal!" the beast cried, his mighty voice shaking the very ground below me. "What seek you in this place? Why come before the great and terrible Lucifer, prince of Darkness?" He lowered his head to look at me, one great eye fixed upon me. For a moment, fear held me. Then, I cleared my throat and spoke. "Ahem, well, um, I'm here to file for a B-32 post-Corporeal? I was told I need to bring this to your department directly for approval." I reached into my jacket and pulled out a manila envelope, offering it to him. The lord of darkness sighed a great sigh, bathing me in warm breath. "Very well," he said, "give me the document." He took the envelope from my hands and put on his massive, evil eyeglasses. He skimmed through the paperwork for a moment, muttering to himself. "Do you have two forms of photo ID with you?" he asked. "They're in the envelope," I shouted up to him. "Hm, yes, so they are." He read for another moment or two. "This is your current address on here?" he said, pointing to a line on the paper. I nodded, and he continued reading. I crossed my arms and rock back and forth a little, looking around with the aimless nature of curiosity and boredom. The wait seemed to go on forever. Satan, King of Evil, wrote something in pen on the margins of the paper and handed it back. "That looks like it's all in order," he said, "But you'll have to file a P-906 before February if you want to keep your soul after the first 300 centuries." "Great, thanks," I said. I looked back into the gloom behind me, tucking the envelope back into my pocket. I turned back to Satan for a moment. "Which, um...?" I began. "Back through the cave you came through, third tunnel on your right, then two lefts and you're out" he said, then flew back up into the darkness. As I walked back into the cave, I could hear the metal hum of a harmonica from somewhere far away.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	There were no screams when I entered Hell. I was shocked, having been raised in a Christian family, but there were no sounds of people being tortured, no crackling of the insane demons who resided in the pits of Hell. The only sound I was the sound of a harmonica, playing a very blues-esc tune. I did what was natural to a person in an unfamiliar landscape- I followed the sound. It walked for what felt like hours searching for the source of the music. Through lakes of fire and fields of brimstone I traveled before finally seeing who- or what- was playing the harmonica. I thought I was prepared for anything. I was not prepared to see Satan, the King of Babylon himself, playing the harmonica whilst looking miserable. He had noticed me almost immediately, and stopped playing. "Why are you still here?" He had asked, his voice filled with sadness and.. something else. Was it anger? Hatred? I couldn't tell. "What do you mean? This is Hell, where the sinners go for eternal damnation. I can't leave," I replied, staring at him. I quickly jumped back when I realized that I was having a civil conversation with the Evil One. Satan sighed, and the harmonica burned to a crisp, as though it were made out of paper. "You've noticed it, haven't you? The lack of screaming, the terrifying silence, the emptyness. People- and demons- have been leaving here, escaping their eternal punishment, all due to Him offering them salvation, even after thousands of years of sins and punishment. He updated his rules, just because of His son's return to Earth," he pauses, looking out over the fields formerly filled with scores of tortured souls. "So you are saying that I am free to go to Heaven, despite having committed the horrid crimes that I have?" He nods, looking at me. "You aren't even supposed to be in here for that. What you did was self defense. The suicide afterwards is what sent you here, but yes, mortal. You may leave. All you must do is pray towards Him. It will burn, but you will be immortalized in Heaven. No leave- I will be practicing my harmonica," at this point, he sounded downright miserable. I felt bad for the devil. I pitied Lucifer, and I shouldn't. I should fear him, but he sounds so broken. Millennia of watching over the worst people that the Earth has known, undone due to a change of God's Terms of Service. I made a decision that would define me for eternity. "I have a question for you, Abaddon," He looks at me, surprised at either being addressed directly by a mortal, or being called by his Hebrew name. "You play harmonica, but, according to an old bluegrass song, you played the fiddle. Is that true?" He laughed, grinning. "Well, seems like that old contest with Johnny is famous after all. I understand that you played the fiddle when you were among the mortal plane?" I nodded. "You could probably teach me a few things though. The question is, will you?" "Of course I will. Beware though- this training will put you through Hell," he laughed, crafting two violins out of the fire surrounding us. "It's a good thing that I'm already there then, right?" And then we played.	"OH SHI-" were the last syllables that ever escaped my mouth while still on Earth. As far as I can figure the crash killed me instantly, probably decapitating me. But that's all in the past now, I'm over it. I mean, it's not everyday you get to discover that there is indeed an afterlife, right? Only it's not exactly how I expected it to be. Don't get me wrong, I knew I was going to Hell, I just didn't expect it to be so...empty. As I walked through the hallways I realized they look almost identical to the halls of my high school, only with a tad bit more blood running down the walls. I roamed the halls until I happened upon some stairs that descended into a massive cavern, with fire lighting the walls, and standing torches illuminating the path to the center platform. Besides the stairs, the platform was the only surface to walk on. It was like an enormous pillar jutting out of a fiery pit. In the center of this platform, sat a depressed looking Satan on a throne of bones. I walked down the stairs and as I approached the throne I said "Hey man, you doin ok?" He looked at me, clearly very upset and cried out "Am I ok? Am I ok? LOOK AROUND! There's no one here!" I was taken aback slightly, but replied "Well what happened?" His face scrunched up. "It's that douchelord Gabriel. Ever since I got sent down here he thinks he's SOOOO much better than me. Well this time he messed up. He thinks he can just waltz down here and steal the souls that were allocated to me? No way Jose. Not on my watch. So THIS time, this time I get my revenge." Extremely curious as to what the master of deceit and twisted acts would have up his sleeve for revenge on his enemies, I asked "So...what are you gonna do to him?" His expression turned to a twisted grin and he said "You'll see." With a snap of his fingers we were teleported to the parking lot of a diner in what appeared to be a small country town, and Satan was disguised as a good ole country boy. "What are we doing here?" I asked. Lucy snapped "You humans. Why can you never just be patient and appreciate a good surprise every now and then?" With that I shut up, not wanting to anger him any more. We walked inside and sat down at a corner booth that enabled us to view the entire diner. Satan whispered "See that guy over there in the big cowboy hat?" I nodded. "That's Gabriel. It's his unlucky day." I still had no clue of what was to come but I was sure it would be horrendous. Gabriel looked to be nearing the end of his meal, and a waitress brought him his desert, a raspberry pie. Satan giggled like a school boy and said "Here it comes!" and as soon as Gabriel cut into his pie, it exploded, getting pie all over him, but causing no real damage. Satan doubled over with laughter and snapped a picture of Gabriel covered in pie with a Polaroid camera. Gabriel looked over to us, visibly confused about what had just happened, until it finally dawned on him who my companion was. "Satan" he growled. Then as quickly as we had gotten there we were back in hell on the pillar. The Lord of Darkness was still laughing incessantly, but just managed to get out the words "Did...did you see his face?" between giggles. "Yes. Yes I did." I replied. "But is that the best you could do?" I asked. He took a second and said "Well...it was a little impromptu...but you have to admit that was a great gag!" "Yeah I suppose so" I said "I guess I just expected the Lord of all that is unholy to be a little more...devious." He looked offended. "Look" he said, "Just because I'm the ruler of Hell doesn't mean I don't like to have some innocent fun sometimes." I considered it for a moment. "Fair enough" I responded, "It was a pretty fun prank." I could tell he wanted to say something, but he seemed almost...nervous? "Would...would you maybe want to stay down here with me and keep me company? I know Gabriel can take you to Heaven and all, but I'm really lonely, and you seem like a cool guy!" I was shocked at his offer. Stay in Hell when I could go to Heaven? Why in the world would I do that? Then I started thinking about the past hour and I thought, "Why not? He is lonely, and he does seem like an ok enough guy..." "So you'll do it?!" he practically shouted. "Oh sorry, I was reading your mind" he added. "Well...as long as you don't do the whole mind reading thing all the time, I'll stay." I said. He looked ecstatic. "YES! FINALLY A FRIEND!" Satan hopped off his thrown and said "Come on, let me show you around!" And with that we walked up the stairs and I began my life in Hell as Satan's bestie. Hey guys so I've never really done one of these before so feedback is welcome! I know it's long, but I don't really write often and the idea just kinda took off! Anyway, hope you like it :) Edit: broke up wall of text
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	Satan sat there, the Harmonica dangling from his hands as I arrived. Poof! of brimstone, a flash of light was all it took...very theatrical and a bit cliche to be honest. "So....so...I'm condemned to Hell for all Eternity?", I whispered to the demonic shape sitting on an ordinary sofa, a sad lost look on his face. "Yes" he said matter of factly, "But You can leave whenever you want, they all did". "You LET THEM GO?" I asked shocked. "Of Course", he replied "I spent hundreds, nay thousands of years torturing people, making them eat their own eyeballs, the eyeballs of their friends and family, making them bathe in their own shit and dance around in it...but then God gave me this and I decided I had to let everyone go". "God gave you....a harmonica? and THATS what made you make everyone leave?" "That doesn't make sense". "Oh but it does", said the Devil, "for you see, as hideous and as wicked as my devilish tortures were to the damned, THIS is far worse" "How can that be possible" I asked with a terrified whisper. "I can't put it down, it plays itself, and"..he trailed off into a horrified whisper. "It only plays Justin Bieber songs". SO...finally I knew..this WAS truly Hell.	"Finally", I said to myself after my long awaited death. I was able to leave the material world, not the way I had imagined as a little kid but there is no right or wrong way to leave the earth. Much to my suprise my soul wasn't being transported to a fire fueled inferno but instead I was presented with two different realms. One was heart warming, I immediately understood it was heaven, the other I reasoned was hell but hell didn't give me a despairing feeling it was rather melancholy. Something drove me to proceed into hells realm, maybe it was the all too familiar sad feeling I felt here. My soul instantly connected to a being that sat on the edge of a cliff. I've never felt so understood before in my life. The acknowledgment of my existence had me feeling exhilarated, that's all I wanted on earth and here on hell was were I received it. As I walked towards the being I noticed he was playing the harmonica, sweet blue tunes played that resonate with my soul. Every step I took I understood this beast more and more. It was opening up to me I received his memories his feelings and knew this was Satan. " why are you here? I already know who you are and you who I am. I cannot comprehend your decisions in the after life, that is beyond my power. So I ask again, why are you here? He looked at his Harmonica the whole time. " this place reminds me of home, the atmosphere not the setting." I said, " eventually you get used to the feeling, the feeling that your all alone." " I guess I saw myself in you" I said. He laughed and said. " that's my line." We basked in loneliness together while he played his harmonica. I spoke, " I imagine everyone went to heaven, even your demons." " those demons are an extension of me, I created them from fractions of my soul to help me govern hell but they left me here broken." " I linked with you when you entered to help fill the void but you are filled with great sadness instead of anger." " the entrance you came into is the entrance for those who commit suicide." " I cannot leave this place for this place is me." " can you not go to heaven?" I asked. " if I walk through that realm I will dissolve, what I am cannot exist in that realm." I said, " so that's your form of suicide. I did it and I met you, the being who I've bonded with the most." " what if there's peace for you past that realm?" He pondered but did not answer. " walk with me" I said as I stood up. He stood up and took my hand. He had had enough loneliness for he was quick in his movements, when he was about to take his step through the realm of his home he turned and looked one last time. He blew a mighty breathe and extinguished the flames of hell. " Ready to walk through?" I asked. " I suppose, anything to rid this pain. We stepped through the realm to heaven. I saw him dissipate but he wore a smile. I understood the peace he was feeling, I kissed his check and his smile grew. After I stood at the white gates alone I felt something in my hand. I looked and noticed a metallic shine, he had left me his harmonica.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	All around me were the ruins of what once must have been a great city, now deserted, and devoid of any life - human or otherwise. Snowflakes kept falling from the ever-grey sky, covering the broken buildings and streets with a thin, white dusting. I shivered. In the distance someone was playing the harmonica, a sad and sorrowful tune. Walking towards the sound, I came to a building - less ruined than the others I had passed - and I noticed a faint light shining through its boarded-up windows and from under its simple, wooden front door. I knocked, then entered, trying not drag too much snow inside with my boots. The room beyond the door might once have been called cozy - bookshelves on one wall, a fire in an open fireplace on the other, a desk and some cushy chairs - but now it all looked old and worn. The harmonica's melody stopped when I entered, and the player - sitting on one of the chairs - turned his head towards me. "Ah, there you are. I was wondering when you'd show up. Please, close the door - it's rather chilly, no? - and take a seat." he spoke and motioned to the chairs. Slightly confused I did as he asked, then sat down in one of the chairs opposite his. "Who are you?" I asked "You have been waiting for me? And what is all this? Now that I think about it, I can't even recall how I got here in the first place." The man smiled a sad smile. "To answer your questions: This is Hell. Quite litterally. And I am Satan. The Devil. Lucifer. I think you get it. As to how you got here: Simple, you died, was measured and found lacking, and so you ended up here." "I died and went to Hell?" I asked incredulousy "This is Hell? Aren't there supposed to be lakes of lava or something? And I thought Satan looked different, ya know, more demonic, horns, goat feet, and so on." - I gestured at the tired looking man in his worn-out suit - "You - no offense - look rather ordinary. Also you didn't answer me why I can't remember anything." The man who claimed to be Satan sighed. "I had a looooong chat with the folks who first brought up that 'Fire and Brimstone' nonsense. Really considered going the extra mile for them, just so they could have a first-hand comparison of both experiences. And do you really want me to be horrible and scary? It's been a while - honestly I like this body better, hard to play the harmonica with claws and all - but if you insist..." For a moment I thought I saw something flicker in his eyes. I decided to err on the side of caution. "No. No need to bother. You are fine just as you are, I was just curious." The flicker disappeared. "Regarding your memory," the man continued "that is a side effect of being in Hell; you forget things - keeps the experience fresh, ya know. Though the memories of your life should come back once you leave." "Wait a minute," I interrupted him "'Once I leave'? I thought being in Hell meant that you were there for all eternity, for forever. So how is it possible for me to leave - not that I mind tough, looking outside I can imagine better places to be." "To be honest" he replied with a tired look "that is exactly the thing. 'Eternity'. 'Forever'. There have not been any new arrivals for quintillions of years, and now finally 'Everything' is over. Time and Space are over. 'Forever' is over. You have served your time, so to say." Once more he sighed "And it would be hardly fair to release you to Heaven with memories 'eternal suffering' - now don't look at me like this, it might not have been fire and brimstone, but I made sure you paid your dues and it was not pleasant. Anyway, so you forgot, and when you leave you will remember your life, good and bad, and you will remember that you paid for your sins - though not the details - so you can enjoy Heaven." I didn't know what to say, and just nodded dumbly. "So, go on," he gestured to a second door in the room - one that I could have sworn had not been there when I first entered - "go on to Heaven. I made sure you earned it - you can take my word." Getting to my feet I took a few hesitant steps toward the second door as I heard him resume playing that sad melody on his harmonica. "What about you?" I asked. He lifted the instrument from his lips and gave me a small, geniune smile. "Very kind of you to ask. But don't worry about me. As I said, I'm closing shop. This here is my penance, there might still be a few souls left, but when the last straggler has gone, I will turn out the lights and too leave through that door. Until then I pass the time with my harmonica." I nodded, and with the sound of his harmonica in my ears, stepped through the door to Heaven.	"Finally", I said to myself after my long awaited death. I was able to leave the material world, not the way I had imagined as a little kid but there is no right or wrong way to leave the earth. Much to my suprise my soul wasn't being transported to a fire fueled inferno but instead I was presented with two different realms. One was heart warming, I immediately understood it was heaven, the other I reasoned was hell but hell didn't give me a despairing feeling it was rather melancholy. Something drove me to proceed into hells realm, maybe it was the all too familiar sad feeling I felt here. My soul instantly connected to a being that sat on the edge of a cliff. I've never felt so understood before in my life. The acknowledgment of my existence had me feeling exhilarated, that's all I wanted on earth and here on hell was were I received it. As I walked towards the being I noticed he was playing the harmonica, sweet blue tunes played that resonate with my soul. Every step I took I understood this beast more and more. It was opening up to me I received his memories his feelings and knew this was Satan. " why are you here? I already know who you are and you who I am. I cannot comprehend your decisions in the after life, that is beyond my power. So I ask again, why are you here? He looked at his Harmonica the whole time. " this place reminds me of home, the atmosphere not the setting." I said, " eventually you get used to the feeling, the feeling that your all alone." " I guess I saw myself in you" I said. He laughed and said. " that's my line." We basked in loneliness together while he played his harmonica. I spoke, " I imagine everyone went to heaven, even your demons." " those demons are an extension of me, I created them from fractions of my soul to help me govern hell but they left me here broken." " I linked with you when you entered to help fill the void but you are filled with great sadness instead of anger." " the entrance you came into is the entrance for those who commit suicide." " I cannot leave this place for this place is me." " can you not go to heaven?" I asked. " if I walk through that realm I will dissolve, what I am cannot exist in that realm." I said, " so that's your form of suicide. I did it and I met you, the being who I've bonded with the most." " what if there's peace for you past that realm?" He pondered but did not answer. " walk with me" I said as I stood up. He stood up and took my hand. He had had enough loneliness for he was quick in his movements, when he was about to take his step through the realm of his home he turned and looked one last time. He blew a mighty breathe and extinguished the flames of hell. " Ready to walk through?" I asked. " I suppose, anything to rid this pain. We stepped through the realm to heaven. I saw him dissipate but he wore a smile. I understood the peace he was feeling, I kissed his check and his smile grew. After I stood at the white gates alone I felt something in my hand. I looked and noticed a metallic shine, he had left me his harmonica.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	I step forward into a well lit bar. The place is completely empty except for Al Pachino sitting on a bar stool under a pin spot on the center stage wailing on a harmonica. I look down and I’m dressed in a perfectly tailored three piece suit, and my shoes glow in the light softened by red gels. Al is now playing hook and I feel myself being pulled toward the stage; when I’m but a few feet from it another pin spot finds me and bathes me in brilliant white light. The music stops. I look up at him and say, “Wh…” The man’s lips curl around his mouth, “Who am I?” He extended his hand and a flaming glass of liquid appeared. He blew the flame out and took a sip from the glass. “You know who I am, and you know where you are, now say it.” “I’m…I’m…” “Come on now, say it like you’ve got a pair,” He demanded. “I’m dead. There was an accident, and a fire, and I didn’t survive,” I spoke each word as if I were learning the information as I was explaining it. “So is this what, a weigh station for my next life?” Al laughed, “No, you lived your life, your one shot. Was it everything you wanted?” “No, not by a long shot. So if I don’t go on, is this heaven?” He shook his head, “Nope. You my friend are in hell, and me? I’m the Devil, Satan, Lucifer, so on and so on.” “Al Pachino isn’t even dead yet… wait, why the fuck am I in hell?” I yelled as my emotions shifted from confused to angry. He sighed and snapped his fingers turning into the Robot Devil from futurama, “Is this better?” He snapped again and flashed over to a more standard, red pitchfork wielding redheaded woman. “How about this?” “Fine, you’re the Devil, I’m in hell, the question is why?” “You didn’t believe in anything. None of the religions are right, but you didn’t believe in any of them, or anything. You didn’t have to believe in the dogma of the religion, but Bill wanted you to believe in him.” “Fuck, so I’m stuck here, for an eternity? Where is Hitler, Stalin, Bea Arthur? Why is it so empty in here? Wait, Bill?” I shook my head in disbelief. “Yeah, god’s name is Bill. The reason it’s empty in here is because if you believe in Bill you take the express lane over there, straight to whatever version of heaven you can imagine.” “So, Bill sent me to hell because I didn’t believe in him. That sounds a little spiteful, right? What are you in for?” “You’re familiar with the gatekeeper?” The beautiful woman asked. “Dana from Ghostbusters, Sigourney Weaver?” I asked. The woman faded into Zuul then jumped off the stage to stand in front of me and in that voice asked, “Are you a god?” Instantly she began to laugh. I laughed just as hard and then said, “Ray, when someone asks if you’re a god, you say yes!” I slapped her on the shoulder and laughed some more. Zuul faded into a man with a long flowing white beard holding a scroll and quill pen, in front of us on the stage gates began to form from the shadows. “I was thinking more like Saint Peter. That’s more or less who I am. I am the gatekeeper between the world you came from and the afterlife. “ “Does everyone get in?” I asked. “Most, but there are a few who don’t feel they’re ready, or some that are so paranoid they expect it to be a test. So they just sit here praying silently to themselves.” I glanced around the bar and said, “But we’re alone.” “Are we?” The old man shifted back into the form of Al Pachino and ascended back to his bar stool perch on the stage. With a wave of his hand, suddenly the bar was filled with people from all different walks of life. The bar now had a young topless woman. her arms tattooed in full sleeves behind the counter drinking liquid in and spiting it out across an open flame, a bright orange fireball passed over the bar. The people sitting on stools ducked and instinctively before sitting back up. Another table had nuns praying the rosary, next to them another group of Hasidic Jews murmured among themselves keeping nearly silent vigil. There were men in suits wandering toward me, and women in every manner of outfit from short black dress to full length ball gown. I turned back to Al and when I did the noises died down all around me as the people vanished. Al looked down at me as I looked up at him and he played a short riff on the glimmering harmonica, and when he finished he said, “Do you recognized Bill to be your creator, and responsible for all that you are?” “If I did, that would mean I didn’t believe in free will. I can’t do that, I’m every bit as responsible for who I am as some absentee father figure. So no, I can’t say that.” “You do realize that you’ll be banished to this place for all eternity right?” I smiled and said, “Bring back the people, and lets get this party started. Do you take requests? How about The Devil Went Down to Georgia?” “Not that fucking song, do you think I could be beaten in a contest? I’ve been doing this for eons you think Charlie Daniels with fifty years of practice is going to beat me? Fuck that guy.”	"Finally", I said to myself after my long awaited death. I was able to leave the material world, not the way I had imagined as a little kid but there is no right or wrong way to leave the earth. Much to my suprise my soul wasn't being transported to a fire fueled inferno but instead I was presented with two different realms. One was heart warming, I immediately understood it was heaven, the other I reasoned was hell but hell didn't give me a despairing feeling it was rather melancholy. Something drove me to proceed into hells realm, maybe it was the all too familiar sad feeling I felt here. My soul instantly connected to a being that sat on the edge of a cliff. I've never felt so understood before in my life. The acknowledgment of my existence had me feeling exhilarated, that's all I wanted on earth and here on hell was were I received it. As I walked towards the being I noticed he was playing the harmonica, sweet blue tunes played that resonate with my soul. Every step I took I understood this beast more and more. It was opening up to me I received his memories his feelings and knew this was Satan. " why are you here? I already know who you are and you who I am. I cannot comprehend your decisions in the after life, that is beyond my power. So I ask again, why are you here? He looked at his Harmonica the whole time. " this place reminds me of home, the atmosphere not the setting." I said, " eventually you get used to the feeling, the feeling that your all alone." " I guess I saw myself in you" I said. He laughed and said. " that's my line." We basked in loneliness together while he played his harmonica. I spoke, " I imagine everyone went to heaven, even your demons." " those demons are an extension of me, I created them from fractions of my soul to help me govern hell but they left me here broken." " I linked with you when you entered to help fill the void but you are filled with great sadness instead of anger." " the entrance you came into is the entrance for those who commit suicide." " I cannot leave this place for this place is me." " can you not go to heaven?" I asked. " if I walk through that realm I will dissolve, what I am cannot exist in that realm." I said, " so that's your form of suicide. I did it and I met you, the being who I've bonded with the most." " what if there's peace for you past that realm?" He pondered but did not answer. " walk with me" I said as I stood up. He stood up and took my hand. He had had enough loneliness for he was quick in his movements, when he was about to take his step through the realm of his home he turned and looked one last time. He blew a mighty breathe and extinguished the flames of hell. " Ready to walk through?" I asked. " I suppose, anything to rid this pain. We stepped through the realm to heaven. I saw him dissipate but he wore a smile. I understood the peace he was feeling, I kissed his check and his smile grew. After I stood at the white gates alone I felt something in my hand. I looked and noticed a metallic shine, he had left me his harmonica.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	Over the crackling of the fire, a soft tune floated on the sulfuric air. Crossing the caverns and tunnels of Hell, the tune echoed through Hell's empty halls. When Dave awoke, it was to find himself alone, save for fire, and that sad tune. Dave scratched his head. How did he end up here? Where even was her-. "Oh." Dave mumbled. He remembered now. He was dead. Generally, he thought people who died pushing some people out of the way of a truck went somewhere slightly different than what by all accounts was likely Hell. Dave didn't dwell on it for too long. Of course, if this was Hell, it's not actually that bad. It was a bit hot, sure, probably on account of all the fires that randomly dotted the blood red stone that formed... well, almost everything. Dave ran his fingers along the wall, tracing the flickering shadows cast by one of innumerable small flames. If he was going to be stuck here, he might as well get used to it. Then he heard it, the tune. The tune was light, but sad, completely at odds with the environment. Like someone put the theme for Harvest Moon over a horror game. For the first time since getting here, Dave's feet refused to move. Something about this was exceptionally creepy. Dave considered running, his heart began to beat faster. Is this what hell was? An eternity of creepy ambience? Dave stood in place as he considered the rest of his unlife in Hell. Would this be the rest of his existence? There's a philosophical thread Dave did not want to pull on. Dave's feet moved slowly. Inching. Bit. By. Bit. "Best to face your fears early, right?" Dave thought, as he slowly moved around the corner. Closer to the source of the sound. Dave expected a jumpscare. Something to pop out in his face and chase him away, something to run him off. Or maybe just something weird. Like a puppet playing the flute or something equally... unsettling. Dave did not expect to find Satan in a suit playing the harmonica. "Oh!" Satan leaped off the rocky stump he'd been sitting on. He bat none existent dust off of the dark red hair on his chest as he stood. "I am Satan! Fear me MORTAL!" Dave scratched his ear. "Yeah. I can tell. The horns, and cloven hooves gave it away." "Oh." Satan crossed his arms. "Of course. Yeah. You would realize." Satan turned around and slapped himself in the head, before muttering under his breath for a while, then turning around. "Now prepare yoursel-!" "So, this is Hell, right?" Dave said over Lucifer, Prince of Darkness. "I... YES!" Satan yelled triumphantly. "And you're stuck here. Forever." "Alright then." Dave huffed. Hell seemed awfully boring. Maybe that was the point? Was this place literally just to torture the sinners of the world with boredom? On that note, where was everyone else? If this place was meant to be dealing with every sinner that the world had ever seen, then either Dave was literally the worst human being to have ever lived, or Hell was a very big place. "Hey Satan?" "Yeah?" "Where is everyone?" Dave asked. "Oh they all left." Satan responded. "Weren't they stuck here forever too?" As Dave spoke, a look of realization slowly formed on Satan's face. Terror drew lines into the face of Satan. "Errrr. No." Satan said, slowly regaining his composure. "They weren't evil enough to suffer forever." "So they got to go to Heaven?" "After a bit." Terror returned to his face as he spoke. "But you won't! You're... far too evil. Yes. Far too evil." "Far too evil?" Dave asked incredulously. The worst he'd done was- "That time you kicked a dog!" Satan yelled. "Now God doesn't want you anymore." "I kicked the dog because it bit my fucking ankle!" Dave spoke with the ire of a man who'd had this conversation far too many times. "It was self defense!" "Have you never even read the bible?" Satan huffed as he drew his arms against his chest. "Turn the other cheek and all that? Anyway, it doesn't matter now, you're stuck here." "Bullshit. I want to speak to God." "You can't." "Why not." "I said so." "Fuck you." "Well. That's rude." Satan recoiled at his words. "But that's how it is. You're stuck here now." "Right." Dave slumped against the cave wall. "So what now? Eternal torture? Some other unknowable terror?" "Yes! The terror will be... unknowable!" Satan rooted in his fur for a while before pulling out a spoon. "And this! Will be my instrument of destruction!" "You're not very good at this are you." The smile dropped from Satan's face, and his arms dropped to his sides. "No I am not." Satan sat next to Dave, resting against the wall. Dave noted that he smelt a lot like burning hair. "To tell the truth I've been out of practice for a while. The whole torturing and tempting thing." Dave sat silently mulling over Satan's words for a while. Then an idea came to him. "What if;" Satan nodded slowly "What if I help you get your groove back." "You?" "Yeah. 'Snot like we've got anything better to do." "Help me?" "That's what I just said isn't it?" Dave said, tersely. Satan stood up as a huge grin crossed his face. "Yes! It's going to be so fun!" Satan offered a hand to Dave, which he took. "We're going to tempt people into debauchery, violence, turn them away from God..." Satan was positively shaking. "It's going to be great!" "Well, beats sitting here I suppose."	"Finally", I said to myself after my long awaited death. I was able to leave the material world, not the way I had imagined as a little kid but there is no right or wrong way to leave the earth. Much to my suprise my soul wasn't being transported to a fire fueled inferno but instead I was presented with two different realms. One was heart warming, I immediately understood it was heaven, the other I reasoned was hell but hell didn't give me a despairing feeling it was rather melancholy. Something drove me to proceed into hells realm, maybe it was the all too familiar sad feeling I felt here. My soul instantly connected to a being that sat on the edge of a cliff. I've never felt so understood before in my life. The acknowledgment of my existence had me feeling exhilarated, that's all I wanted on earth and here on hell was were I received it. As I walked towards the being I noticed he was playing the harmonica, sweet blue tunes played that resonate with my soul. Every step I took I understood this beast more and more. It was opening up to me I received his memories his feelings and knew this was Satan. " why are you here? I already know who you are and you who I am. I cannot comprehend your decisions in the after life, that is beyond my power. So I ask again, why are you here? He looked at his Harmonica the whole time. " this place reminds me of home, the atmosphere not the setting." I said, " eventually you get used to the feeling, the feeling that your all alone." " I guess I saw myself in you" I said. He laughed and said. " that's my line." We basked in loneliness together while he played his harmonica. I spoke, " I imagine everyone went to heaven, even your demons." " those demons are an extension of me, I created them from fractions of my soul to help me govern hell but they left me here broken." " I linked with you when you entered to help fill the void but you are filled with great sadness instead of anger." " the entrance you came into is the entrance for those who commit suicide." " I cannot leave this place for this place is me." " can you not go to heaven?" I asked. " if I walk through that realm I will dissolve, what I am cannot exist in that realm." I said, " so that's your form of suicide. I did it and I met you, the being who I've bonded with the most." " what if there's peace for you past that realm?" He pondered but did not answer. " walk with me" I said as I stood up. He stood up and took my hand. He had had enough loneliness for he was quick in his movements, when he was about to take his step through the realm of his home he turned and looked one last time. He blew a mighty breathe and extinguished the flames of hell. " Ready to walk through?" I asked. " I suppose, anything to rid this pain. We stepped through the realm to heaven. I saw him dissipate but he wore a smile. I understood the peace he was feeling, I kissed his check and his smile grew. After I stood at the white gates alone I felt something in my hand. I looked and noticed a metallic shine, he had left me his harmonica.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	The soft tones of the ancient wind instrument trailed off as the Lord of Hell finally acknowledged my presence in his domain “You…play the harmonica?” I asked, still trying to wrap my head around the features that now surrounded me. He set his harmonica down on a nearby table that was formed out of pumice, and had small trails of lava pouring out of holes in the sides quite artistically. He adjusted his position on the stool he sat upon to regard me, his amber eyes seeming to pierce right through to my soul…if I still had one. “Indeed. This particular specimen is one of the first mass-produced examples of the modern day instrument you may be familiar with. I took it from the inventor as he came through my doors. “ Satan paused for a moment, “He left it to me when he decided to ascend, it was quite unfortunate that such a gracious man ended up in my custody.” He stood up and walked over to me, placing his hand upon my shoulder . Standing over 7 feet tall and powerfully built, he was as physically imposing a figure as one would imagine the keeper of the underworld to be. “You’re free to ascend as well, human. A new judgement was passed some time ago, no longer is anyone to be enslaved against their will.” I took a step back from him, looking down I reflected on the events that brought me here. “I know. Saint Peter informed me that I was eligible for entry into heaven. I chose this place instead.” With a curious grunt, Lucifer turned around and approached a void in the wall. He waved his hand across it and, like a hologram, key events in my life flashed across the space. Scenes of battle and lust, bigotry and slander streamed endlessly like a video loop until he cast it away. He didn’t even turn to address me, “You seem to have committed no atrocities, no war crimes. A few petty misdeeds, and certainly things that would have led to your disgrace under the old system, but far from the worst I’ve seen.” I shook my head softly in agreement. “So,” Another pause as he turned to face me again, “What lead you to choose this place? You have no family down here, no friends, no lovers. They’re up there, “ he pointed towards the roof of the chamber we were in, “enjoying themselves. Awaiting you.” Another pause, and then softer, “Everyone’s up there nowadays.” It was at this time that I could finally regard him directly, “And when I was hungry, cold, and alone…I remember what that felt like. They never helped me, instead I was saved by a very kind man who had never known me before. He said that I should do the same thing whenever I was given the opportunity, but I never was able to do so. Until now.” The Devil’s gaze softened, and he sat down on the same stool that I had encountered him on. He motioned me to join him on a similar one. “It’s been a long time since I was enjoyed for my company. Tell me, what would you like to do?” Sitting next to him, I only had one request: “Tell me your story, from your side of things.”	"Finally", I said to myself after my long awaited death. I was able to leave the material world, not the way I had imagined as a little kid but there is no right or wrong way to leave the earth. Much to my suprise my soul wasn't being transported to a fire fueled inferno but instead I was presented with two different realms. One was heart warming, I immediately understood it was heaven, the other I reasoned was hell but hell didn't give me a despairing feeling it was rather melancholy. Something drove me to proceed into hells realm, maybe it was the all too familiar sad feeling I felt here. My soul instantly connected to a being that sat on the edge of a cliff. I've never felt so understood before in my life. The acknowledgment of my existence had me feeling exhilarated, that's all I wanted on earth and here on hell was were I received it. As I walked towards the being I noticed he was playing the harmonica, sweet blue tunes played that resonate with my soul. Every step I took I understood this beast more and more. It was opening up to me I received his memories his feelings and knew this was Satan. " why are you here? I already know who you are and you who I am. I cannot comprehend your decisions in the after life, that is beyond my power. So I ask again, why are you here? He looked at his Harmonica the whole time. " this place reminds me of home, the atmosphere not the setting." I said, " eventually you get used to the feeling, the feeling that your all alone." " I guess I saw myself in you" I said. He laughed and said. " that's my line." We basked in loneliness together while he played his harmonica. I spoke, " I imagine everyone went to heaven, even your demons." " those demons are an extension of me, I created them from fractions of my soul to help me govern hell but they left me here broken." " I linked with you when you entered to help fill the void but you are filled with great sadness instead of anger." " the entrance you came into is the entrance for those who commit suicide." " I cannot leave this place for this place is me." " can you not go to heaven?" I asked. " if I walk through that realm I will dissolve, what I am cannot exist in that realm." I said, " so that's your form of suicide. I did it and I met you, the being who I've bonded with the most." " what if there's peace for you past that realm?" He pondered but did not answer. " walk with me" I said as I stood up. He stood up and took my hand. He had had enough loneliness for he was quick in his movements, when he was about to take his step through the realm of his home he turned and looked one last time. He blew a mighty breathe and extinguished the flames of hell. " Ready to walk through?" I asked. " I suppose, anything to rid this pain. We stepped through the realm to heaven. I saw him dissipate but he wore a smile. I understood the peace he was feeling, I kissed his check and his smile grew. After I stood at the white gates alone I felt something in my hand. I looked and noticed a metallic shine, he had left me his harmonica.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	It sounds weird to think that to myself, but I was dead and now here I am. I was old when I died, lived a very good life, or at least it was entertaining. Oh, the things I've done, the places I visited, the girls I loved, I can remember them very well; too well in fact. Every small detail I forgot in my old age I could recall without problems now. Based on a lot of those details - if the priests were speaking the truth - I should be in hell right now. I looked around - it's a strange place. It must be the waiting room; too nice for hell, too empty for heaven... Actually, I would imagine too empty for hell too. Purgatory perhaps? Who lays purgatory with grass though? Right, "he" does. The weather's nice, sun(or whatever it's called in here) is shining through blossoming trees, it feels very comfortable for me. A brown gazebo stands not far away, beautiful music is coming out from it. I'll go check it out, not like I have anything better to do. As I'm walking towards it I notice there's someone sitting inside. A young man with long brown hair, tied into a knot. He's playing harmonica. Is it saint Peter? Or maybe Jesus himself? He's rather pretty, I think it's actually Jesus. First time in my life I'm star-struck. I approach slowly and sit on the bench on the opposite side of gazebo. I got so occupied with choosing the right place to sit I forgot to pay attention to what's happening. The man has stopped playing and is looking at me in shock. Have I already done something wrong? Was I supposed to bring my own instrument and play something? -"What are you doing here?"- asked the man. What a stupid question, I think he's supposed to know. Is the beaurocracy in here as bad as it's 'down there'? -"I have died and now I'm here."- I answered quite honestly, I thought. -"Why aren't you with the rest of your people?" -"How am I supposed to know, I just got here."- I started to believe this man is not saint Peter or Jesus at all. Weren't they supposed to know this stuff? -"Weren't you supposed to know this?" -"Who do you think I am?" -"I don't know, saint Peter?" - I didn't go for the Jesus, obviously a son of a god would know why I'm here. -"My name's Lucifer." -"Satan? The satan? So where are we?" -"Hell, obviously." -"This..." -" ...doesn't look like hell." - he interrupted my sentence. I looked at him for a while, anticipating when everything around me will burst in flames. I figured the grass and overall pleasant surroundings were just a ruse, like a one last false hope, twisted form of torture. He continued talking - "I used to get that a lot. None of you thought this could be hell." -"So what now?" -"Oh that's right, you still think I'm here to torment you. I have to explain this every damn time. We're in this here together. I'm stuck here just as much as you are. I don't care about torturing you." -"What?" -"Hell is a place where there is no God. That's it. Other than that it's quite cozy for you - people. It's like your world, and you get to live forever, without hunger or pain. You just don't get to feel his presence, which isn't any different from your previous life. For angels who were at his side before it's a terrible fate. " -"So that's it? I just get to sit here forever? " -"Well you could always go to heaven to see his glory and enjoy eternity for what it truly could be." -"So what do I have to do?" -"I'm stuck here. I'll always be here. No matter what I do I'll never feel his warmth again. Take pity on the devil, stranger, for all I know is misery." -"And that's it?" -"Can you see anyone else here?" Minutes passed and we just sat there. He was pretty good with the harmonica, I wonder what he could do with a fiddle. After an hour he produced another harmonica out of thin air and handed it to me - "Do you know how to play it? Go ahead, take it. I'll teach you, my friend." As soon as I took it, a blinding light started shining from behind him. White wings were hard to miss, those must be angels. They came to take me to heaven, I thought to myself - a bit late, but I guess I can't be unhappy about it in the grand scheme of things. Then the weirdest thing happened - they didn't grab me. They grabbed the fucking devil and disappeared. I couldn't take pity on him no matter how hard I tried, after all I learned. He pitied me. Might as well learn how to play the harmonica.	"Finally", I said to myself after my long awaited death. I was able to leave the material world, not the way I had imagined as a little kid but there is no right or wrong way to leave the earth. Much to my suprise my soul wasn't being transported to a fire fueled inferno but instead I was presented with two different realms. One was heart warming, I immediately understood it was heaven, the other I reasoned was hell but hell didn't give me a despairing feeling it was rather melancholy. Something drove me to proceed into hells realm, maybe it was the all too familiar sad feeling I felt here. My soul instantly connected to a being that sat on the edge of a cliff. I've never felt so understood before in my life. The acknowledgment of my existence had me feeling exhilarated, that's all I wanted on earth and here on hell was were I received it. As I walked towards the being I noticed he was playing the harmonica, sweet blue tunes played that resonate with my soul. Every step I took I understood this beast more and more. It was opening up to me I received his memories his feelings and knew this was Satan. " why are you here? I already know who you are and you who I am. I cannot comprehend your decisions in the after life, that is beyond my power. So I ask again, why are you here? He looked at his Harmonica the whole time. " this place reminds me of home, the atmosphere not the setting." I said, " eventually you get used to the feeling, the feeling that your all alone." " I guess I saw myself in you" I said. He laughed and said. " that's my line." We basked in loneliness together while he played his harmonica. I spoke, " I imagine everyone went to heaven, even your demons." " those demons are an extension of me, I created them from fractions of my soul to help me govern hell but they left me here broken." " I linked with you when you entered to help fill the void but you are filled with great sadness instead of anger." " the entrance you came into is the entrance for those who commit suicide." " I cannot leave this place for this place is me." " can you not go to heaven?" I asked. " if I walk through that realm I will dissolve, what I am cannot exist in that realm." I said, " so that's your form of suicide. I did it and I met you, the being who I've bonded with the most." " what if there's peace for you past that realm?" He pondered but did not answer. " walk with me" I said as I stood up. He stood up and took my hand. He had had enough loneliness for he was quick in his movements, when he was about to take his step through the realm of his home he turned and looked one last time. He blew a mighty breathe and extinguished the flames of hell. " Ready to walk through?" I asked. " I suppose, anything to rid this pain. We stepped through the realm to heaven. I saw him dissipate but he wore a smile. I understood the peace he was feeling, I kissed his check and his smile grew. After I stood at the white gates alone I felt something in my hand. I looked and noticed a metallic shine, he had left me his harmonica.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	For ages, at least that's how it seemed, there was only darkness. I couldn't count my breaths, because it seemed as if I didn't need to breathe anymore. So I counted as high as I could possibly count. Three times. Finally, I could see muted yellow light. In an instant my feet touched solid ground. My legs shook, but I managed to maintain my balance. It looked as if I was in a cave. With tunnels leading every which way. Far off there was sound. A harmonica. The most beautiful playing I'd ever heard. I followed it. Winding my way through the tunnels, tripping over rocks. Finally, I entered a large grotto. The cave ceiling was high. Against the far wall sat a man. He was tall, had dark hair. His eyes were closed as he played the instrument. Suddenly the music stopped and he looked at me. "What are you doing here?" He asked me, his voice almost as melodic as the harmonica. "I'm not sure." I mumbled. He waved his hand at me, "Then go, with the rest of them." "Where, exactly, am I going? Since you don't seem too keen to tell me where I am." I sighed. He narrowed his eyes at me, "You're in hell. Aren't you going to leave?" I racked my brain. From what I could remember from the Bible. I'm pretty sure what I did justified me being here. "Again, not exactly sure where I'm supposed to go. This seems like the correct venue. Except... not as much eternal hellfire, damnation, and the wails of those who have sinned. Did I miss something?" I glanced around. If this was hell, it seemed as if the whole world had lost the memo. "You haven't heard about the loophole?" He asked me. I shook my head, "No." "Ah. Well, if you fancy yourself a nice piece of heaven, you might as well go. God realized punishing sinners just wasn't righteous or what the hell ever." He went back to his harmonica. I sat down, crossing my legs, "Why aren't you there?" He stopped, hitting a sour note, "Because I'm the exception to the rule." "Why's that?" "You ask too many fucking questions." He snarled, setting the harmonica down. I shrugged, "Sorry. Who are you supposed to be?" "It's fine. Just. Knock it off. I'm Lucifer. Better known as 'The Devil'. Stupid fuckin' nickname." "You don't look like the Devil." I commented. "Your people only got shit right about 3% of the time." I nodded, figuring as much. He shook his head, "Look. If you stay here I'm gonna have to set you on fire or something," He glanced around, "Fuck. Where'd I put my fire stick?" I chuckled, "Fire stick?" He nodded, getting up from his seat and glancing around, "Yeah. It's this bad ass stick that sets people on fire. Kind of self explanatory." "If there's a loophole for all the assholes who've done some realllyyy fucked up shit, why isn't there a loophole for you?" He stopped searching and shrugged, "Dunno." "How about I trade you spots? I'll stay down here and play music, and you go enjoy heaven?" "Do you realize how stupid you sound?" He scoffed. "About as stupid as murderers, child molesters, and tax evaders getting a get out of hell free card." I shrugged, smiling at the last bit. Edit: because I forgot a line. And clarification.	"Finally", I said to myself after my long awaited death. I was able to leave the material world, not the way I had imagined as a little kid but there is no right or wrong way to leave the earth. Much to my suprise my soul wasn't being transported to a fire fueled inferno but instead I was presented with two different realms. One was heart warming, I immediately understood it was heaven, the other I reasoned was hell but hell didn't give me a despairing feeling it was rather melancholy. Something drove me to proceed into hells realm, maybe it was the all too familiar sad feeling I felt here. My soul instantly connected to a being that sat on the edge of a cliff. I've never felt so understood before in my life. The acknowledgment of my existence had me feeling exhilarated, that's all I wanted on earth and here on hell was were I received it. As I walked towards the being I noticed he was playing the harmonica, sweet blue tunes played that resonate with my soul. Every step I took I understood this beast more and more. It was opening up to me I received his memories his feelings and knew this was Satan. " why are you here? I already know who you are and you who I am. I cannot comprehend your decisions in the after life, that is beyond my power. So I ask again, why are you here? He looked at his Harmonica the whole time. " this place reminds me of home, the atmosphere not the setting." I said, " eventually you get used to the feeling, the feeling that your all alone." " I guess I saw myself in you" I said. He laughed and said. " that's my line." We basked in loneliness together while he played his harmonica. I spoke, " I imagine everyone went to heaven, even your demons." " those demons are an extension of me, I created them from fractions of my soul to help me govern hell but they left me here broken." " I linked with you when you entered to help fill the void but you are filled with great sadness instead of anger." " the entrance you came into is the entrance for those who commit suicide." " I cannot leave this place for this place is me." " can you not go to heaven?" I asked. " if I walk through that realm I will dissolve, what I am cannot exist in that realm." I said, " so that's your form of suicide. I did it and I met you, the being who I've bonded with the most." " what if there's peace for you past that realm?" He pondered but did not answer. " walk with me" I said as I stood up. He stood up and took my hand. He had had enough loneliness for he was quick in his movements, when he was about to take his step through the realm of his home he turned and looked one last time. He blew a mighty breathe and extinguished the flames of hell. " Ready to walk through?" I asked. " I suppose, anything to rid this pain. We stepped through the realm to heaven. I saw him dissipate but he wore a smile. I understood the peace he was feeling, I kissed his check and his smile grew. After I stood at the white gates alone I felt something in my hand. I looked and noticed a metallic shine, he had left me his harmonica.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	Satan sat there, the Harmonica dangling from his hands as I arrived. Poof! of brimstone, a flash of light was all it took...very theatrical and a bit cliche to be honest. "So....so...I'm condemned to Hell for all Eternity?", I whispered to the demonic shape sitting on an ordinary sofa, a sad lost look on his face. "Yes" he said matter of factly, "But You can leave whenever you want, they all did". "You LET THEM GO?" I asked shocked. "Of Course", he replied "I spent hundreds, nay thousands of years torturing people, making them eat their own eyeballs, the eyeballs of their friends and family, making them bathe in their own shit and dance around in it...but then God gave me this and I decided I had to let everyone go". "God gave you....a harmonica? and THATS what made you make everyone leave?" "That doesn't make sense". "Oh but it does", said the Devil, "for you see, as hideous and as wicked as my devilish tortures were to the damned, THIS is far worse" "How can that be possible" I asked with a terrified whisper. "I can't put it down, it plays itself, and"..he trailed off into a horrified whisper. "It only plays Justin Bieber songs". SO...finally I knew..this WAS truly Hell.	This wasn’t heaven, I figured that. I must have overdosed or something… last thing I remember was a night of partying and debauchery… and now I guess I’m paying the price. But wouldn’t hell have billions of condemned souls, howling and screaming in undying terror? This looks… empty. I’m all alone here. Then I hear a faint harmonica. Sounds pretty good. I follow the melody deep into the darkest reaches of the chasm. There, faintly lit by a circle of fire, sat a red-skinned beastlike creature. Was this the only demon – or whatever – here? He looked up… and smiled. “Pleased to meet you. Just call me Lucifer.” I was taken aback. “Hang on… THE Lucifer?” “Yes. This is my domain. Unlike the others who found out how to escape, I can never cross over to the other side. Not that I’d want to, anyway.” Then he went on for a few hours about what he went through with God, what were the best moments of life down here with his demon friends, the things he did on Earth when he managed to find his way there, some of his favorite condemned souls he got to know, and the gradual desertion of hell when everyone eventually found out they could very well escape, no penalty. He’s been all by himself, more or less, the past fifty years or so. I actually felt sorry for the poor fellow. “Look, if you want some company, I can hang about for a bit. Hell, I could come back.” “That’s fine and all… how about we jam together?” “Cool… how about you start off and I’ll do some blues.” Lucifer then let into a fierce harmonica solo – more intense than what I previously heard – and that’s when I came to. The hotel room was a mess. The other guys were sprawled out on the bed and on the floor. A couple of naked ladies were still here, passed out as well. I had a splitting headache. But now I had a great idea for a song. I grabbed a beer-stained notepad. I found a pen under the bed next to some empty whiskey bottles. And I started writing everything I could remember Lucifer saying in my dream. I just hope Keith can give me a good enough riff for it later on.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	All around me were the ruins of what once must have been a great city, now deserted, and devoid of any life - human or otherwise. Snowflakes kept falling from the ever-grey sky, covering the broken buildings and streets with a thin, white dusting. I shivered. In the distance someone was playing the harmonica, a sad and sorrowful tune. Walking towards the sound, I came to a building - less ruined than the others I had passed - and I noticed a faint light shining through its boarded-up windows and from under its simple, wooden front door. I knocked, then entered, trying not drag too much snow inside with my boots. The room beyond the door might once have been called cozy - bookshelves on one wall, a fire in an open fireplace on the other, a desk and some cushy chairs - but now it all looked old and worn. The harmonica's melody stopped when I entered, and the player - sitting on one of the chairs - turned his head towards me. "Ah, there you are. I was wondering when you'd show up. Please, close the door - it's rather chilly, no? - and take a seat." he spoke and motioned to the chairs. Slightly confused I did as he asked, then sat down in one of the chairs opposite his. "Who are you?" I asked "You have been waiting for me? And what is all this? Now that I think about it, I can't even recall how I got here in the first place." The man smiled a sad smile. "To answer your questions: This is Hell. Quite litterally. And I am Satan. The Devil. Lucifer. I think you get it. As to how you got here: Simple, you died, was measured and found lacking, and so you ended up here." "I died and went to Hell?" I asked incredulousy "This is Hell? Aren't there supposed to be lakes of lava or something? And I thought Satan looked different, ya know, more demonic, horns, goat feet, and so on." - I gestured at the tired looking man in his worn-out suit - "You - no offense - look rather ordinary. Also you didn't answer me why I can't remember anything." The man who claimed to be Satan sighed. "I had a looooong chat with the folks who first brought up that 'Fire and Brimstone' nonsense. Really considered going the extra mile for them, just so they could have a first-hand comparison of both experiences. And do you really want me to be horrible and scary? It's been a while - honestly I like this body better, hard to play the harmonica with claws and all - but if you insist..." For a moment I thought I saw something flicker in his eyes. I decided to err on the side of caution. "No. No need to bother. You are fine just as you are, I was just curious." The flicker disappeared. "Regarding your memory," the man continued "that is a side effect of being in Hell; you forget things - keeps the experience fresh, ya know. Though the memories of your life should come back once you leave." "Wait a minute," I interrupted him "'Once I leave'? I thought being in Hell meant that you were there for all eternity, for forever. So how is it possible for me to leave - not that I mind tough, looking outside I can imagine better places to be." "To be honest" he replied with a tired look "that is exactly the thing. 'Eternity'. 'Forever'. There have not been any new arrivals for quintillions of years, and now finally 'Everything' is over. Time and Space are over. 'Forever' is over. You have served your time, so to say." Once more he sighed "And it would be hardly fair to release you to Heaven with memories 'eternal suffering' - now don't look at me like this, it might not have been fire and brimstone, but I made sure you paid your dues and it was not pleasant. Anyway, so you forgot, and when you leave you will remember your life, good and bad, and you will remember that you paid for your sins - though not the details - so you can enjoy Heaven." I didn't know what to say, and just nodded dumbly. "So, go on," he gestured to a second door in the room - one that I could have sworn had not been there when I first entered - "go on to Heaven. I made sure you earned it - you can take my word." Getting to my feet I took a few hesitant steps toward the second door as I heard him resume playing that sad melody on his harmonica. "What about you?" I asked. He lifted the instrument from his lips and gave me a small, geniune smile. "Very kind of you to ask. But don't worry about me. As I said, I'm closing shop. This here is my penance, there might still be a few souls left, but when the last straggler has gone, I will turn out the lights and too leave through that door. Until then I pass the time with my harmonica." I nodded, and with the sound of his harmonica in my ears, stepped through the door to Heaven.	This wasn’t heaven, I figured that. I must have overdosed or something… last thing I remember was a night of partying and debauchery… and now I guess I’m paying the price. But wouldn’t hell have billions of condemned souls, howling and screaming in undying terror? This looks… empty. I’m all alone here. Then I hear a faint harmonica. Sounds pretty good. I follow the melody deep into the darkest reaches of the chasm. There, faintly lit by a circle of fire, sat a red-skinned beastlike creature. Was this the only demon – or whatever – here? He looked up… and smiled. “Pleased to meet you. Just call me Lucifer.” I was taken aback. “Hang on… THE Lucifer?” “Yes. This is my domain. Unlike the others who found out how to escape, I can never cross over to the other side. Not that I’d want to, anyway.” Then he went on for a few hours about what he went through with God, what were the best moments of life down here with his demon friends, the things he did on Earth when he managed to find his way there, some of his favorite condemned souls he got to know, and the gradual desertion of hell when everyone eventually found out they could very well escape, no penalty. He’s been all by himself, more or less, the past fifty years or so. I actually felt sorry for the poor fellow. “Look, if you want some company, I can hang about for a bit. Hell, I could come back.” “That’s fine and all… how about we jam together?” “Cool… how about you start off and I’ll do some blues.” Lucifer then let into a fierce harmonica solo – more intense than what I previously heard – and that’s when I came to. The hotel room was a mess. The other guys were sprawled out on the bed and on the floor. A couple of naked ladies were still here, passed out as well. I had a splitting headache. But now I had a great idea for a song. I grabbed a beer-stained notepad. I found a pen under the bed next to some empty whiskey bottles. And I started writing everything I could remember Lucifer saying in my dream. I just hope Keith can give me a good enough riff for it later on.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	I step forward into a well lit bar. The place is completely empty except for Al Pachino sitting on a bar stool under a pin spot on the center stage wailing on a harmonica. I look down and I’m dressed in a perfectly tailored three piece suit, and my shoes glow in the light softened by red gels. Al is now playing hook and I feel myself being pulled toward the stage; when I’m but a few feet from it another pin spot finds me and bathes me in brilliant white light. The music stops. I look up at him and say, “Wh…” The man’s lips curl around his mouth, “Who am I?” He extended his hand and a flaming glass of liquid appeared. He blew the flame out and took a sip from the glass. “You know who I am, and you know where you are, now say it.” “I’m…I’m…” “Come on now, say it like you’ve got a pair,” He demanded. “I’m dead. There was an accident, and a fire, and I didn’t survive,” I spoke each word as if I were learning the information as I was explaining it. “So is this what, a weigh station for my next life?” Al laughed, “No, you lived your life, your one shot. Was it everything you wanted?” “No, not by a long shot. So if I don’t go on, is this heaven?” He shook his head, “Nope. You my friend are in hell, and me? I’m the Devil, Satan, Lucifer, so on and so on.” “Al Pachino isn’t even dead yet… wait, why the fuck am I in hell?” I yelled as my emotions shifted from confused to angry. He sighed and snapped his fingers turning into the Robot Devil from futurama, “Is this better?” He snapped again and flashed over to a more standard, red pitchfork wielding redheaded woman. “How about this?” “Fine, you’re the Devil, I’m in hell, the question is why?” “You didn’t believe in anything. None of the religions are right, but you didn’t believe in any of them, or anything. You didn’t have to believe in the dogma of the religion, but Bill wanted you to believe in him.” “Fuck, so I’m stuck here, for an eternity? Where is Hitler, Stalin, Bea Arthur? Why is it so empty in here? Wait, Bill?” I shook my head in disbelief. “Yeah, god’s name is Bill. The reason it’s empty in here is because if you believe in Bill you take the express lane over there, straight to whatever version of heaven you can imagine.” “So, Bill sent me to hell because I didn’t believe in him. That sounds a little spiteful, right? What are you in for?” “You’re familiar with the gatekeeper?” The beautiful woman asked. “Dana from Ghostbusters, Sigourney Weaver?” I asked. The woman faded into Zuul then jumped off the stage to stand in front of me and in that voice asked, “Are you a god?” Instantly she began to laugh. I laughed just as hard and then said, “Ray, when someone asks if you’re a god, you say yes!” I slapped her on the shoulder and laughed some more. Zuul faded into a man with a long flowing white beard holding a scroll and quill pen, in front of us on the stage gates began to form from the shadows. “I was thinking more like Saint Peter. That’s more or less who I am. I am the gatekeeper between the world you came from and the afterlife. “ “Does everyone get in?” I asked. “Most, but there are a few who don’t feel they’re ready, or some that are so paranoid they expect it to be a test. So they just sit here praying silently to themselves.” I glanced around the bar and said, “But we’re alone.” “Are we?” The old man shifted back into the form of Al Pachino and ascended back to his bar stool perch on the stage. With a wave of his hand, suddenly the bar was filled with people from all different walks of life. The bar now had a young topless woman. her arms tattooed in full sleeves behind the counter drinking liquid in and spiting it out across an open flame, a bright orange fireball passed over the bar. The people sitting on stools ducked and instinctively before sitting back up. Another table had nuns praying the rosary, next to them another group of Hasidic Jews murmured among themselves keeping nearly silent vigil. There were men in suits wandering toward me, and women in every manner of outfit from short black dress to full length ball gown. I turned back to Al and when I did the noises died down all around me as the people vanished. Al looked down at me as I looked up at him and he played a short riff on the glimmering harmonica, and when he finished he said, “Do you recognized Bill to be your creator, and responsible for all that you are?” “If I did, that would mean I didn’t believe in free will. I can’t do that, I’m every bit as responsible for who I am as some absentee father figure. So no, I can’t say that.” “You do realize that you’ll be banished to this place for all eternity right?” I smiled and said, “Bring back the people, and lets get this party started. Do you take requests? How about The Devil Went Down to Georgia?” “Not that fucking song, do you think I could be beaten in a contest? I’ve been doing this for eons you think Charlie Daniels with fifty years of practice is going to beat me? Fuck that guy.”	This wasn’t heaven, I figured that. I must have overdosed or something… last thing I remember was a night of partying and debauchery… and now I guess I’m paying the price. But wouldn’t hell have billions of condemned souls, howling and screaming in undying terror? This looks… empty. I’m all alone here. Then I hear a faint harmonica. Sounds pretty good. I follow the melody deep into the darkest reaches of the chasm. There, faintly lit by a circle of fire, sat a red-skinned beastlike creature. Was this the only demon – or whatever – here? He looked up… and smiled. “Pleased to meet you. Just call me Lucifer.” I was taken aback. “Hang on… THE Lucifer?” “Yes. This is my domain. Unlike the others who found out how to escape, I can never cross over to the other side. Not that I’d want to, anyway.” Then he went on for a few hours about what he went through with God, what were the best moments of life down here with his demon friends, the things he did on Earth when he managed to find his way there, some of his favorite condemned souls he got to know, and the gradual desertion of hell when everyone eventually found out they could very well escape, no penalty. He’s been all by himself, more or less, the past fifty years or so. I actually felt sorry for the poor fellow. “Look, if you want some company, I can hang about for a bit. Hell, I could come back.” “That’s fine and all… how about we jam together?” “Cool… how about you start off and I’ll do some blues.” Lucifer then let into a fierce harmonica solo – more intense than what I previously heard – and that’s when I came to. The hotel room was a mess. The other guys were sprawled out on the bed and on the floor. A couple of naked ladies were still here, passed out as well. I had a splitting headache. But now I had a great idea for a song. I grabbed a beer-stained notepad. I found a pen under the bed next to some empty whiskey bottles. And I started writing everything I could remember Lucifer saying in my dream. I just hope Keith can give me a good enough riff for it later on.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	The soft tones of the ancient wind instrument trailed off as the Lord of Hell finally acknowledged my presence in his domain “You…play the harmonica?” I asked, still trying to wrap my head around the features that now surrounded me. He set his harmonica down on a nearby table that was formed out of pumice, and had small trails of lava pouring out of holes in the sides quite artistically. He adjusted his position on the stool he sat upon to regard me, his amber eyes seeming to pierce right through to my soul…if I still had one. “Indeed. This particular specimen is one of the first mass-produced examples of the modern day instrument you may be familiar with. I took it from the inventor as he came through my doors. “ Satan paused for a moment, “He left it to me when he decided to ascend, it was quite unfortunate that such a gracious man ended up in my custody.” He stood up and walked over to me, placing his hand upon my shoulder . Standing over 7 feet tall and powerfully built, he was as physically imposing a figure as one would imagine the keeper of the underworld to be. “You’re free to ascend as well, human. A new judgement was passed some time ago, no longer is anyone to be enslaved against their will.” I took a step back from him, looking down I reflected on the events that brought me here. “I know. Saint Peter informed me that I was eligible for entry into heaven. I chose this place instead.” With a curious grunt, Lucifer turned around and approached a void in the wall. He waved his hand across it and, like a hologram, key events in my life flashed across the space. Scenes of battle and lust, bigotry and slander streamed endlessly like a video loop until he cast it away. He didn’t even turn to address me, “You seem to have committed no atrocities, no war crimes. A few petty misdeeds, and certainly things that would have led to your disgrace under the old system, but far from the worst I’ve seen.” I shook my head softly in agreement. “So,” Another pause as he turned to face me again, “What lead you to choose this place? You have no family down here, no friends, no lovers. They’re up there, “ he pointed towards the roof of the chamber we were in, “enjoying themselves. Awaiting you.” Another pause, and then softer, “Everyone’s up there nowadays.” It was at this time that I could finally regard him directly, “And when I was hungry, cold, and alone…I remember what that felt like. They never helped me, instead I was saved by a very kind man who had never known me before. He said that I should do the same thing whenever I was given the opportunity, but I never was able to do so. Until now.” The Devil’s gaze softened, and he sat down on the same stool that I had encountered him on. He motioned me to join him on a similar one. “It’s been a long time since I was enjoyed for my company. Tell me, what would you like to do?” Sitting next to him, I only had one request: “Tell me your story, from your side of things.”	This wasn’t heaven, I figured that. I must have overdosed or something… last thing I remember was a night of partying and debauchery… and now I guess I’m paying the price. But wouldn’t hell have billions of condemned souls, howling and screaming in undying terror? This looks… empty. I’m all alone here. Then I hear a faint harmonica. Sounds pretty good. I follow the melody deep into the darkest reaches of the chasm. There, faintly lit by a circle of fire, sat a red-skinned beastlike creature. Was this the only demon – or whatever – here? He looked up… and smiled. “Pleased to meet you. Just call me Lucifer.” I was taken aback. “Hang on… THE Lucifer?” “Yes. This is my domain. Unlike the others who found out how to escape, I can never cross over to the other side. Not that I’d want to, anyway.” Then he went on for a few hours about what he went through with God, what were the best moments of life down here with his demon friends, the things he did on Earth when he managed to find his way there, some of his favorite condemned souls he got to know, and the gradual desertion of hell when everyone eventually found out they could very well escape, no penalty. He’s been all by himself, more or less, the past fifty years or so. I actually felt sorry for the poor fellow. “Look, if you want some company, I can hang about for a bit. Hell, I could come back.” “That’s fine and all… how about we jam together?” “Cool… how about you start off and I’ll do some blues.” Lucifer then let into a fierce harmonica solo – more intense than what I previously heard – and that’s when I came to. The hotel room was a mess. The other guys were sprawled out on the bed and on the floor. A couple of naked ladies were still here, passed out as well. I had a splitting headache. But now I had a great idea for a song. I grabbed a beer-stained notepad. I found a pen under the bed next to some empty whiskey bottles. And I started writing everything I could remember Lucifer saying in my dream. I just hope Keith can give me a good enough riff for it later on.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	It sounds weird to think that to myself, but I was dead and now here I am. I was old when I died, lived a very good life, or at least it was entertaining. Oh, the things I've done, the places I visited, the girls I loved, I can remember them very well; too well in fact. Every small detail I forgot in my old age I could recall without problems now. Based on a lot of those details - if the priests were speaking the truth - I should be in hell right now. I looked around - it's a strange place. It must be the waiting room; too nice for hell, too empty for heaven... Actually, I would imagine too empty for hell too. Purgatory perhaps? Who lays purgatory with grass though? Right, "he" does. The weather's nice, sun(or whatever it's called in here) is shining through blossoming trees, it feels very comfortable for me. A brown gazebo stands not far away, beautiful music is coming out from it. I'll go check it out, not like I have anything better to do. As I'm walking towards it I notice there's someone sitting inside. A young man with long brown hair, tied into a knot. He's playing harmonica. Is it saint Peter? Or maybe Jesus himself? He's rather pretty, I think it's actually Jesus. First time in my life I'm star-struck. I approach slowly and sit on the bench on the opposite side of gazebo. I got so occupied with choosing the right place to sit I forgot to pay attention to what's happening. The man has stopped playing and is looking at me in shock. Have I already done something wrong? Was I supposed to bring my own instrument and play something? -"What are you doing here?"- asked the man. What a stupid question, I think he's supposed to know. Is the beaurocracy in here as bad as it's 'down there'? -"I have died and now I'm here."- I answered quite honestly, I thought. -"Why aren't you with the rest of your people?" -"How am I supposed to know, I just got here."- I started to believe this man is not saint Peter or Jesus at all. Weren't they supposed to know this stuff? -"Weren't you supposed to know this?" -"Who do you think I am?" -"I don't know, saint Peter?" - I didn't go for the Jesus, obviously a son of a god would know why I'm here. -"My name's Lucifer." -"Satan? The satan? So where are we?" -"Hell, obviously." -"This..." -" ...doesn't look like hell." - he interrupted my sentence. I looked at him for a while, anticipating when everything around me will burst in flames. I figured the grass and overall pleasant surroundings were just a ruse, like a one last false hope, twisted form of torture. He continued talking - "I used to get that a lot. None of you thought this could be hell." -"So what now?" -"Oh that's right, you still think I'm here to torment you. I have to explain this every damn time. We're in this here together. I'm stuck here just as much as you are. I don't care about torturing you." -"What?" -"Hell is a place where there is no God. That's it. Other than that it's quite cozy for you - people. It's like your world, and you get to live forever, without hunger or pain. You just don't get to feel his presence, which isn't any different from your previous life. For angels who were at his side before it's a terrible fate. " -"So that's it? I just get to sit here forever? " -"Well you could always go to heaven to see his glory and enjoy eternity for what it truly could be." -"So what do I have to do?" -"I'm stuck here. I'll always be here. No matter what I do I'll never feel his warmth again. Take pity on the devil, stranger, for all I know is misery." -"And that's it?" -"Can you see anyone else here?" Minutes passed and we just sat there. He was pretty good with the harmonica, I wonder what he could do with a fiddle. After an hour he produced another harmonica out of thin air and handed it to me - "Do you know how to play it? Go ahead, take it. I'll teach you, my friend." As soon as I took it, a blinding light started shining from behind him. White wings were hard to miss, those must be angels. They came to take me to heaven, I thought to myself - a bit late, but I guess I can't be unhappy about it in the grand scheme of things. Then the weirdest thing happened - they didn't grab me. They grabbed the fucking devil and disappeared. I couldn't take pity on him no matter how hard I tried, after all I learned. He pitied me. Might as well learn how to play the harmonica.	This wasn’t heaven, I figured that. I must have overdosed or something… last thing I remember was a night of partying and debauchery… and now I guess I’m paying the price. But wouldn’t hell have billions of condemned souls, howling and screaming in undying terror? This looks… empty. I’m all alone here. Then I hear a faint harmonica. Sounds pretty good. I follow the melody deep into the darkest reaches of the chasm. There, faintly lit by a circle of fire, sat a red-skinned beastlike creature. Was this the only demon – or whatever – here? He looked up… and smiled. “Pleased to meet you. Just call me Lucifer.” I was taken aback. “Hang on… THE Lucifer?” “Yes. This is my domain. Unlike the others who found out how to escape, I can never cross over to the other side. Not that I’d want to, anyway.” Then he went on for a few hours about what he went through with God, what were the best moments of life down here with his demon friends, the things he did on Earth when he managed to find his way there, some of his favorite condemned souls he got to know, and the gradual desertion of hell when everyone eventually found out they could very well escape, no penalty. He’s been all by himself, more or less, the past fifty years or so. I actually felt sorry for the poor fellow. “Look, if you want some company, I can hang about for a bit. Hell, I could come back.” “That’s fine and all… how about we jam together?” “Cool… how about you start off and I’ll do some blues.” Lucifer then let into a fierce harmonica solo – more intense than what I previously heard – and that’s when I came to. The hotel room was a mess. The other guys were sprawled out on the bed and on the floor. A couple of naked ladies were still here, passed out as well. I had a splitting headache. But now I had a great idea for a song. I grabbed a beer-stained notepad. I found a pen under the bed next to some empty whiskey bottles. And I started writing everything I could remember Lucifer saying in my dream. I just hope Keith can give me a good enough riff for it later on.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	All around me were the ruins of what once must have been a great city, now deserted, and devoid of any life - human or otherwise. Snowflakes kept falling from the ever-grey sky, covering the broken buildings and streets with a thin, white dusting. I shivered. In the distance someone was playing the harmonica, a sad and sorrowful tune. Walking towards the sound, I came to a building - less ruined than the others I had passed - and I noticed a faint light shining through its boarded-up windows and from under its simple, wooden front door. I knocked, then entered, trying not drag too much snow inside with my boots. The room beyond the door might once have been called cozy - bookshelves on one wall, a fire in an open fireplace on the other, a desk and some cushy chairs - but now it all looked old and worn. The harmonica's melody stopped when I entered, and the player - sitting on one of the chairs - turned his head towards me. "Ah, there you are. I was wondering when you'd show up. Please, close the door - it's rather chilly, no? - and take a seat." he spoke and motioned to the chairs. Slightly confused I did as he asked, then sat down in one of the chairs opposite his. "Who are you?" I asked "You have been waiting for me? And what is all this? Now that I think about it, I can't even recall how I got here in the first place." The man smiled a sad smile. "To answer your questions: This is Hell. Quite litterally. And I am Satan. The Devil. Lucifer. I think you get it. As to how you got here: Simple, you died, was measured and found lacking, and so you ended up here." "I died and went to Hell?" I asked incredulousy "This is Hell? Aren't there supposed to be lakes of lava or something? And I thought Satan looked different, ya know, more demonic, horns, goat feet, and so on." - I gestured at the tired looking man in his worn-out suit - "You - no offense - look rather ordinary. Also you didn't answer me why I can't remember anything." The man who claimed to be Satan sighed. "I had a looooong chat with the folks who first brought up that 'Fire and Brimstone' nonsense. Really considered going the extra mile for them, just so they could have a first-hand comparison of both experiences. And do you really want me to be horrible and scary? It's been a while - honestly I like this body better, hard to play the harmonica with claws and all - but if you insist..." For a moment I thought I saw something flicker in his eyes. I decided to err on the side of caution. "No. No need to bother. You are fine just as you are, I was just curious." The flicker disappeared. "Regarding your memory," the man continued "that is a side effect of being in Hell; you forget things - keeps the experience fresh, ya know. Though the memories of your life should come back once you leave." "Wait a minute," I interrupted him "'Once I leave'? I thought being in Hell meant that you were there for all eternity, for forever. So how is it possible for me to leave - not that I mind tough, looking outside I can imagine better places to be." "To be honest" he replied with a tired look "that is exactly the thing. 'Eternity'. 'Forever'. There have not been any new arrivals for quintillions of years, and now finally 'Everything' is over. Time and Space are over. 'Forever' is over. You have served your time, so to say." Once more he sighed "And it would be hardly fair to release you to Heaven with memories 'eternal suffering' - now don't look at me like this, it might not have been fire and brimstone, but I made sure you paid your dues and it was not pleasant. Anyway, so you forgot, and when you leave you will remember your life, good and bad, and you will remember that you paid for your sins - though not the details - so you can enjoy Heaven." I didn't know what to say, and just nodded dumbly. "So, go on," he gestured to a second door in the room - one that I could have sworn had not been there when I first entered - "go on to Heaven. I made sure you earned it - you can take my word." Getting to my feet I took a few hesitant steps toward the second door as I heard him resume playing that sad melody on his harmonica. "What about you?" I asked. He lifted the instrument from his lips and gave me a small, geniune smile. "Very kind of you to ask. But don't worry about me. As I said, I'm closing shop. This here is my penance, there might still be a few souls left, but when the last straggler has gone, I will turn out the lights and too leave through that door. Until then I pass the time with my harmonica." I nodded, and with the sound of his harmonica in my ears, stepped through the door to Heaven.	It was so empty. I never imagined Hell would be this empty, it just made no sense to me. I have been walking for what seemed like eternity, and I'm not sure if that's what it was, time seemed to be meaningless in here. All I could do was follow a distant sound, far away and yet so close, but I still didn't know what it was. I came up to a hill, this time I was certain the sound came from here. I had no clue what I would find at the top of the hill. The one single person so bad they are the only inhabitant of hell. Besides me, and I didn't know why. I was getting closer, and I could finally make out the music. Blues. When I got to the top I could finally see him, sitting there, playing his harmonica into the vast, empty land before him. He seemed pretty normal save for his red skin. He was sitting in the middle of what seemed like a stage, surrounded by a couple of electric guitars, a bass, and a drum set. I sat behind him and took the bass, trying to remember the little I knew from high school. I played one note, and he immediately turned around, cutting off the music. His eyes were like a snake's, looking at me, examining every detail, silently. "Are you Satan?" - "You're not too perceptive, are you?" - "I think I'm perceptive enough." - "Not enough to see the great damn glowing stairway when you arrived, now you'll have to go all the way back." - "Why would I?" - "So you can get to heaven." - "What do you mean? Isn't this supposed to be eternal punishment?" - "Well, yeah, but you see, the thing is, God sat down and did some math, and he figured he killed more people than the entire combined strength of hell. The guy hates me, so he decided that instead of coming down here, they all deserved to go up there instead, even Adolf. Even all the damn executives were let loose." - "Then why are you still here?" - "I helped him with plenty of it. Besides, I like it here." - "If everyone gets up there, then why did I arrive here?" - "Heaven's not very good with logistics, they've only had to deal with a handful of people a century until the last few days. My guess is my helpers, the very first few to ever arrive, taught them how we ran things down here, and you probably slipped through the cracks. So, why don't you go up there, the staircase should close when you get to the top." - "And you'll be left here for the rest of eternity?" - "Sounds about right." He turned back and started playing his harmonica again. I got up and headed towards the staircase. His music got louder. I came back. He looked at me, slightly surprised. "Still here?" - "I thought about it, heaven's probably filled to the brim right now, so I figured I would stay a while, if you don't mind." - "Sure, pull up a chair, have you own part of my empire of dirt." I sat next to him, playing a simple bass line, and listening to the beautiful sounds of his harmonica. It's been quite some time now, but I never felt a need to get up so far.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	I step forward into a well lit bar. The place is completely empty except for Al Pachino sitting on a bar stool under a pin spot on the center stage wailing on a harmonica. I look down and I’m dressed in a perfectly tailored three piece suit, and my shoes glow in the light softened by red gels. Al is now playing hook and I feel myself being pulled toward the stage; when I’m but a few feet from it another pin spot finds me and bathes me in brilliant white light. The music stops. I look up at him and say, “Wh…” The man’s lips curl around his mouth, “Who am I?” He extended his hand and a flaming glass of liquid appeared. He blew the flame out and took a sip from the glass. “You know who I am, and you know where you are, now say it.” “I’m…I’m…” “Come on now, say it like you’ve got a pair,” He demanded. “I’m dead. There was an accident, and a fire, and I didn’t survive,” I spoke each word as if I were learning the information as I was explaining it. “So is this what, a weigh station for my next life?” Al laughed, “No, you lived your life, your one shot. Was it everything you wanted?” “No, not by a long shot. So if I don’t go on, is this heaven?” He shook his head, “Nope. You my friend are in hell, and me? I’m the Devil, Satan, Lucifer, so on and so on.” “Al Pachino isn’t even dead yet… wait, why the fuck am I in hell?” I yelled as my emotions shifted from confused to angry. He sighed and snapped his fingers turning into the Robot Devil from futurama, “Is this better?” He snapped again and flashed over to a more standard, red pitchfork wielding redheaded woman. “How about this?” “Fine, you’re the Devil, I’m in hell, the question is why?” “You didn’t believe in anything. None of the religions are right, but you didn’t believe in any of them, or anything. You didn’t have to believe in the dogma of the religion, but Bill wanted you to believe in him.” “Fuck, so I’m stuck here, for an eternity? Where is Hitler, Stalin, Bea Arthur? Why is it so empty in here? Wait, Bill?” I shook my head in disbelief. “Yeah, god’s name is Bill. The reason it’s empty in here is because if you believe in Bill you take the express lane over there, straight to whatever version of heaven you can imagine.” “So, Bill sent me to hell because I didn’t believe in him. That sounds a little spiteful, right? What are you in for?” “You’re familiar with the gatekeeper?” The beautiful woman asked. “Dana from Ghostbusters, Sigourney Weaver?” I asked. The woman faded into Zuul then jumped off the stage to stand in front of me and in that voice asked, “Are you a god?” Instantly she began to laugh. I laughed just as hard and then said, “Ray, when someone asks if you’re a god, you say yes!” I slapped her on the shoulder and laughed some more. Zuul faded into a man with a long flowing white beard holding a scroll and quill pen, in front of us on the stage gates began to form from the shadows. “I was thinking more like Saint Peter. That’s more or less who I am. I am the gatekeeper between the world you came from and the afterlife. “ “Does everyone get in?” I asked. “Most, but there are a few who don’t feel they’re ready, or some that are so paranoid they expect it to be a test. So they just sit here praying silently to themselves.” I glanced around the bar and said, “But we’re alone.” “Are we?” The old man shifted back into the form of Al Pachino and ascended back to his bar stool perch on the stage. With a wave of his hand, suddenly the bar was filled with people from all different walks of life. The bar now had a young topless woman. her arms tattooed in full sleeves behind the counter drinking liquid in and spiting it out across an open flame, a bright orange fireball passed over the bar. The people sitting on stools ducked and instinctively before sitting back up. Another table had nuns praying the rosary, next to them another group of Hasidic Jews murmured among themselves keeping nearly silent vigil. There were men in suits wandering toward me, and women in every manner of outfit from short black dress to full length ball gown. I turned back to Al and when I did the noises died down all around me as the people vanished. Al looked down at me as I looked up at him and he played a short riff on the glimmering harmonica, and when he finished he said, “Do you recognized Bill to be your creator, and responsible for all that you are?” “If I did, that would mean I didn’t believe in free will. I can’t do that, I’m every bit as responsible for who I am as some absentee father figure. So no, I can’t say that.” “You do realize that you’ll be banished to this place for all eternity right?” I smiled and said, “Bring back the people, and lets get this party started. Do you take requests? How about The Devil Went Down to Georgia?” “Not that fucking song, do you think I could be beaten in a contest? I’ve been doing this for eons you think Charlie Daniels with fifty years of practice is going to beat me? Fuck that guy.”	It was so empty. I never imagined Hell would be this empty, it just made no sense to me. I have been walking for what seemed like eternity, and I'm not sure if that's what it was, time seemed to be meaningless in here. All I could do was follow a distant sound, far away and yet so close, but I still didn't know what it was. I came up to a hill, this time I was certain the sound came from here. I had no clue what I would find at the top of the hill. The one single person so bad they are the only inhabitant of hell. Besides me, and I didn't know why. I was getting closer, and I could finally make out the music. Blues. When I got to the top I could finally see him, sitting there, playing his harmonica into the vast, empty land before him. He seemed pretty normal save for his red skin. He was sitting in the middle of what seemed like a stage, surrounded by a couple of electric guitars, a bass, and a drum set. I sat behind him and took the bass, trying to remember the little I knew from high school. I played one note, and he immediately turned around, cutting off the music. His eyes were like a snake's, looking at me, examining every detail, silently. "Are you Satan?" - "You're not too perceptive, are you?" - "I think I'm perceptive enough." - "Not enough to see the great damn glowing stairway when you arrived, now you'll have to go all the way back." - "Why would I?" - "So you can get to heaven." - "What do you mean? Isn't this supposed to be eternal punishment?" - "Well, yeah, but you see, the thing is, God sat down and did some math, and he figured he killed more people than the entire combined strength of hell. The guy hates me, so he decided that instead of coming down here, they all deserved to go up there instead, even Adolf. Even all the damn executives were let loose." - "Then why are you still here?" - "I helped him with plenty of it. Besides, I like it here." - "If everyone gets up there, then why did I arrive here?" - "Heaven's not very good with logistics, they've only had to deal with a handful of people a century until the last few days. My guess is my helpers, the very first few to ever arrive, taught them how we ran things down here, and you probably slipped through the cracks. So, why don't you go up there, the staircase should close when you get to the top." - "And you'll be left here for the rest of eternity?" - "Sounds about right." He turned back and started playing his harmonica again. I got up and headed towards the staircase. His music got louder. I came back. He looked at me, slightly surprised. "Still here?" - "I thought about it, heaven's probably filled to the brim right now, so I figured I would stay a while, if you don't mind." - "Sure, pull up a chair, have you own part of my empire of dirt." I sat next to him, playing a simple bass line, and listening to the beautiful sounds of his harmonica. It's been quite some time now, but I never felt a need to get up so far.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	The soft tones of the ancient wind instrument trailed off as the Lord of Hell finally acknowledged my presence in his domain “You…play the harmonica?” I asked, still trying to wrap my head around the features that now surrounded me. He set his harmonica down on a nearby table that was formed out of pumice, and had small trails of lava pouring out of holes in the sides quite artistically. He adjusted his position on the stool he sat upon to regard me, his amber eyes seeming to pierce right through to my soul…if I still had one. “Indeed. This particular specimen is one of the first mass-produced examples of the modern day instrument you may be familiar with. I took it from the inventor as he came through my doors. “ Satan paused for a moment, “He left it to me when he decided to ascend, it was quite unfortunate that such a gracious man ended up in my custody.” He stood up and walked over to me, placing his hand upon my shoulder . Standing over 7 feet tall and powerfully built, he was as physically imposing a figure as one would imagine the keeper of the underworld to be. “You’re free to ascend as well, human. A new judgement was passed some time ago, no longer is anyone to be enslaved against their will.” I took a step back from him, looking down I reflected on the events that brought me here. “I know. Saint Peter informed me that I was eligible for entry into heaven. I chose this place instead.” With a curious grunt, Lucifer turned around and approached a void in the wall. He waved his hand across it and, like a hologram, key events in my life flashed across the space. Scenes of battle and lust, bigotry and slander streamed endlessly like a video loop until he cast it away. He didn’t even turn to address me, “You seem to have committed no atrocities, no war crimes. A few petty misdeeds, and certainly things that would have led to your disgrace under the old system, but far from the worst I’ve seen.” I shook my head softly in agreement. “So,” Another pause as he turned to face me again, “What lead you to choose this place? You have no family down here, no friends, no lovers. They’re up there, “ he pointed towards the roof of the chamber we were in, “enjoying themselves. Awaiting you.” Another pause, and then softer, “Everyone’s up there nowadays.” It was at this time that I could finally regard him directly, “And when I was hungry, cold, and alone…I remember what that felt like. They never helped me, instead I was saved by a very kind man who had never known me before. He said that I should do the same thing whenever I was given the opportunity, but I never was able to do so. Until now.” The Devil’s gaze softened, and he sat down on the same stool that I had encountered him on. He motioned me to join him on a similar one. “It’s been a long time since I was enjoyed for my company. Tell me, what would you like to do?” Sitting next to him, I only had one request: “Tell me your story, from your side of things.”	It was so empty. I never imagined Hell would be this empty, it just made no sense to me. I have been walking for what seemed like eternity, and I'm not sure if that's what it was, time seemed to be meaningless in here. All I could do was follow a distant sound, far away and yet so close, but I still didn't know what it was. I came up to a hill, this time I was certain the sound came from here. I had no clue what I would find at the top of the hill. The one single person so bad they are the only inhabitant of hell. Besides me, and I didn't know why. I was getting closer, and I could finally make out the music. Blues. When I got to the top I could finally see him, sitting there, playing his harmonica into the vast, empty land before him. He seemed pretty normal save for his red skin. He was sitting in the middle of what seemed like a stage, surrounded by a couple of electric guitars, a bass, and a drum set. I sat behind him and took the bass, trying to remember the little I knew from high school. I played one note, and he immediately turned around, cutting off the music. His eyes were like a snake's, looking at me, examining every detail, silently. "Are you Satan?" - "You're not too perceptive, are you?" - "I think I'm perceptive enough." - "Not enough to see the great damn glowing stairway when you arrived, now you'll have to go all the way back." - "Why would I?" - "So you can get to heaven." - "What do you mean? Isn't this supposed to be eternal punishment?" - "Well, yeah, but you see, the thing is, God sat down and did some math, and he figured he killed more people than the entire combined strength of hell. The guy hates me, so he decided that instead of coming down here, they all deserved to go up there instead, even Adolf. Even all the damn executives were let loose." - "Then why are you still here?" - "I helped him with plenty of it. Besides, I like it here." - "If everyone gets up there, then why did I arrive here?" - "Heaven's not very good with logistics, they've only had to deal with a handful of people a century until the last few days. My guess is my helpers, the very first few to ever arrive, taught them how we ran things down here, and you probably slipped through the cracks. So, why don't you go up there, the staircase should close when you get to the top." - "And you'll be left here for the rest of eternity?" - "Sounds about right." He turned back and started playing his harmonica again. I got up and headed towards the staircase. His music got louder. I came back. He looked at me, slightly surprised. "Still here?" - "I thought about it, heaven's probably filled to the brim right now, so I figured I would stay a while, if you don't mind." - "Sure, pull up a chair, have you own part of my empire of dirt." I sat next to him, playing a simple bass line, and listening to the beautiful sounds of his harmonica. It's been quite some time now, but I never felt a need to get up so far.
[WP] Due to a loophole in the system, people can escape hell and get to heaven after death. You go to hell and all you see is Satan, just sitting there playing the harmonica. Everyone left him and now he's all alone.	All around me were the ruins of what once must have been a great city, now deserted, and devoid of any life - human or otherwise. Snowflakes kept falling from the ever-grey sky, covering the broken buildings and streets with a thin, white dusting. I shivered. In the distance someone was playing the harmonica, a sad and sorrowful tune. Walking towards the sound, I came to a building - less ruined than the others I had passed - and I noticed a faint light shining through its boarded-up windows and from under its simple, wooden front door. I knocked, then entered, trying not drag too much snow inside with my boots. The room beyond the door might once have been called cozy - bookshelves on one wall, a fire in an open fireplace on the other, a desk and some cushy chairs - but now it all looked old and worn. The harmonica's melody stopped when I entered, and the player - sitting on one of the chairs - turned his head towards me. "Ah, there you are. I was wondering when you'd show up. Please, close the door - it's rather chilly, no? - and take a seat." he spoke and motioned to the chairs. Slightly confused I did as he asked, then sat down in one of the chairs opposite his. "Who are you?" I asked "You have been waiting for me? And what is all this? Now that I think about it, I can't even recall how I got here in the first place." The man smiled a sad smile. "To answer your questions: This is Hell. Quite litterally. And I am Satan. The Devil. Lucifer. I think you get it. As to how you got here: Simple, you died, was measured and found lacking, and so you ended up here." "I died and went to Hell?" I asked incredulousy "This is Hell? Aren't there supposed to be lakes of lava or something? And I thought Satan looked different, ya know, more demonic, horns, goat feet, and so on." - I gestured at the tired looking man in his worn-out suit - "You - no offense - look rather ordinary. Also you didn't answer me why I can't remember anything." The man who claimed to be Satan sighed. "I had a looooong chat with the folks who first brought up that 'Fire and Brimstone' nonsense. Really considered going the extra mile for them, just so they could have a first-hand comparison of both experiences. And do you really want me to be horrible and scary? It's been a while - honestly I like this body better, hard to play the harmonica with claws and all - but if you insist..." For a moment I thought I saw something flicker in his eyes. I decided to err on the side of caution. "No. No need to bother. You are fine just as you are, I was just curious." The flicker disappeared. "Regarding your memory," the man continued "that is a side effect of being in Hell; you forget things - keeps the experience fresh, ya know. Though the memories of your life should come back once you leave." "Wait a minute," I interrupted him "'Once I leave'? I thought being in Hell meant that you were there for all eternity, for forever. So how is it possible for me to leave - not that I mind tough, looking outside I can imagine better places to be." "To be honest" he replied with a tired look "that is exactly the thing. 'Eternity'. 'Forever'. There have not been any new arrivals for quintillions of years, and now finally 'Everything' is over. Time and Space are over. 'Forever' is over. You have served your time, so to say." Once more he sighed "And it would be hardly fair to release you to Heaven with memories 'eternal suffering' - now don't look at me like this, it might not have been fire and brimstone, but I made sure you paid your dues and it was not pleasant. Anyway, so you forgot, and when you leave you will remember your life, good and bad, and you will remember that you paid for your sins - though not the details - so you can enjoy Heaven." I didn't know what to say, and just nodded dumbly. "So, go on," he gestured to a second door in the room - one that I could have sworn had not been there when I first entered - "go on to Heaven. I made sure you earned it - you can take my word." Getting to my feet I took a few hesitant steps toward the second door as I heard him resume playing that sad melody on his harmonica. "What about you?" I asked. He lifted the instrument from his lips and gave me a small, geniune smile. "Very kind of you to ask. But don't worry about me. As I said, I'm closing shop. This here is my penance, there might still be a few souls left, but when the last straggler has gone, I will turn out the lights and too leave through that door. Until then I pass the time with my harmonica." I nodded, and with the sound of his harmonica in my ears, stepped through the door to Heaven.	For a while, there had been silence. Have you ever been on a ride at an amusement park that goes at once from a high speed to a complete stop, or been in a car accident and found yourself thrown against the seat-belt? That is precisely what it felt like when Elliot went to Hell: like he had been going very fast and had suddenly stopped. (And maybe, he would later consider, that was a half-decent summary of death.) As if launched upward from a terrible nightmare, he jolted into being, gasping for breath he had not been deprived of. The air smelled like a hospital someone had been smoking in, a tainted sterility. Once his vision pulled into focus, he found himself in what looked like a waiting room. To what, he wasn't sure, for it certainly wasn't clean enough to be a hospital, and come to think of it. . . There was no one else waiting. There was no quiet murmur of life. All he could hear was what sounded an awful lot like a harmonica. At a cursory search for any staff behind the desk, Elliot found only him. Satan, who was by all means looking terribly bored, was sitting on the intake desk playing the harmonica. This answered one question and gave way to another hundred. The first to come to mind crawled up Elliot's throat before he had time to think about it: "What the hell?" It became clear then that the devil had not actually seen him until that moment. His eyes flickered up from the spot they had been lazily fixed on, like two great fireballs somehow confined within his eye sockets. It took a moment of squinting for him to open his mouth, baring shark-like teeth. First was a sigh. Then, Satan flatly stated, "I assume that was supposed to be a joke." For all the awful feelings in the world, Satan himself being so clearly unimpressed at Elliot was definitely crawling up the list of the worst. Further up on the list was his mounting fear. "No," he forced out after a moment of trying not to stammer. "No - I just. . ." His head reeled and he took a few seconds to gather himself. One deep breath in, one shuddering huff out. When he spoke again, he was quieter. "I'm dead. I'm dead and you're -" "Yes, I am he," Satan answered tiredly. "The Devil. Father of lies. Evil itself. Lucifer. Whatever name you choose, this is who stands. . ." He seemed to reevaluate his statement, and slipped off the desk to stand before Elliot before continuing, "Who stands before you." Standing, Satan wasn't more than a foot taller than Elliot, but it felt like he towered nonetheless. Yet there was something about him that seemed off. He didn't reek of ego or pride the way he probably should have. If anything, he seemed. . . Was 'sad' the right word? Elliot considered it as he took a cautious glance around. "This is Hell, isn't it? Where, uh - where is everyone?" "They're in Heaven." "What?" That didn't make sense. Surely not everyone else who had ever died would be in Heaven. "You're not telling me that I'm the only person who's ever gone to Hell. That's ridiculous." "Oh, no," Satan answered, starting to pace a slow circle around Elliot. "I'm not telling you that. You're simply the only person who has ever stayed. And even that remains to be seen." This only worsened the confusion that Elliot felt about this whole thing, but he was trying to understand. It was made somewhat more difficult by the fact that he was also trying to keep an eye on Satan, and this had caused him to turn slowly in place as the devil circled him. "I don't understand. I thought people stayed in Hell, like. Forever." When Satan laughed, it was an exhausted laugh, but it still drove a cold spike into Elliot's heart. "Ah, so did we. Suppose I ought to read my contracts better. Regardless, I've no interest in giving you a history lesson. Hell is by all means a dead kingdom. Go on," he said, stopping his pacing and giving a grandiose gesture to the doors at the far end of the room. "Into the hall, the last doors on your right. Heaven lies beyond." This was far too easy. "You're not going to torture me?" "My torturers quit, actually. And I'm not in the business, personally." "So there's no one here but you?" "No," Satan snapped. "There's not. Are you going to keep questioning me, or are you going to leave? I assure you, you won't get bored up there. Have your fun." He began to pace back toward the desk, and in that moment, Elliot caught himself feeling the slightest bit bad for the devil. Liar or otherwise, it did look like he was completely alone here. Everyone had abandoned Hell for greener pastures, and to him, it didn't even look much like Hell anymore. It was simply a drab building, perhaps a little warm and a little musty, with a harmonica and Satan and a chess set. His eyes locked on that. Elliot had always loved a challenge. "Wait," he called out, and received a cool glance in response. A quirked eyebrow. "Do you actually want me to go?" There was a pause. Satan turned back, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the desk. "Not particularly. But I have no means of stopping you, and it's best not to delay the inevitable." It took a moment of mustering his courage, but Elliot walked over to the desk. He didn't stand too close, but instead tapped the chessboard lightly. "Inevitable is a strong word," he said, and prided himself on how collected he sounded. "Just humour me for a second. You play?" "You're surprised?" "Not really. Listen. . . Fuck it, let's make a deal. One game. No cheating. If I win, I'll go to Heaven, and that's that. If you win, I'll stay here. You can do whatever you want with me. Even if that means taking up torture again." This was, perhaps, the stupidest thing Elliot had ever done, just short of dying. He hardly knew why he was doing it. There had just been something about the image of Satan himself in a barren, empty Hell, playing the harmonica. . . It was just wrong. And Elliot was pretty good at chess. Slowly but surely, Satan strolled his way. He leaned on the desk, his lithe form twisting in a strange way to accommodate for the odd height difference. And then, in a terrifying if almost charming way, he grinned. With one long finger, he pushed a few misplaced pieces back into their starting locations. "You do know you just made a deal with the Devil," he said casually, his eyes burning into Elliot's. Elliot forced himself to look away and focus on the board, where he was already planning his first move. After a second, he let out a surprisingly genuine, short laugh. "Yeah. I guess I did."

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