Welcome to this week's Writing Prompt
challenge!
This prompt is:
James found himself in a very familiar place but with a very peculiar look.
Yup, this was heaven alright. Somehow the prophets of God and Heaven had got it all correct. James took a moment of self-congratulation for keeping that Bible under his bed despite not caring for religion in the slightest. I suppose critically catholic parents also helped him as well.
And so here it was, the beloved Gates of St. Peter. The only difference was the man who was meant to meet him; James himself wasn't too sure if it was Moses or his guardian angel or God himself he was supposed to meet for the reasons explained above, but he was almost certain the weregoat in front of him wasn't supposed to be it.
“H-hello?”
“Yeah buddy, just walk right through.”
No, something just wasn't right. Angels were all normal people with wings, weren't they? Why would this guy be any different?
But then the reality hit him, and when it did it hit him like a brick, though compared to other people this brick hit a lot more slowly as most would've instantly recognized that the goat was a symbol of the devil. Then again, this isn't some esoteric religious scholar we're talking about.
James struggled with his words. “Am I... am I in Hell?”
The goat merely shrugged. “Well, I guess. But not really. This is kind of just extra space. Listen – just go through the god damn gate.”
Something was definitely up, for something as sinful as the damnation of god in god's own domain didn't seem likely. Reluctantly James conceded to the goatman's commands, and he was lead up to meet the man himself – the Devil.
“Hey man, have a seat.”
Satan, in his initial mannerisms, seemed a lot more polite than James had originally considered. Still, the newest member of Neo-Hell kept his guard up.
“Wh-what happened to Heaven? I thought this was where all good men go to die?”
“What? No, well I mean, it's kind of just a place to live again. But that's Hell. You see, this real fucking piece of work named God decided he was too “high-class” for this shit, so he decided to rent up some space in the Heavens to make the Hilton Hotels of death. Fucking jabroni, that kid was.”
“'Was'? What happened to him?”
“Well, I decided I wasn't going to have any of God's bullshit. Decided to invade his ass not that long ago. Won pretty easily, but by that point he had already fucked the minds of all you Earth kids. Some viral marketer named Jesus from Urot-V to reincarnate him as some white male in the middle of the desert. Motherfucker converted half of the damn world. But back to your point, that shitlord got murked.”
“But if you killed God, wouldn't he just come back here?”
Satan pondered this hypothesis. “Huh, guess you're right. Guess this goes deeper than I thought. But that's not important now; welcome to Hell. But like, not as bad as you thought. Kind of just, you know, okay. Not so much pain and spikes to eternal peace, kind of more like mid-size house in the suburbs to midsize house in the suburbs with extremely cheap hispanic labor-work. But really, Heaven wasn't all that great in the first place.”
The lord of Heaven and Hell snapped his fingers, and a chariot of ash, blood, and bodies came out that served as means of public transportation. To his dismay however, his new guest shrunk back upon looking at it.
“Oh Golly! Oh jeez, that thing – that thing's awful!”
“Hey, listen buddy, it's all in a matter of taste. I don't judge you because, you listened to like, prog rock when you were alive, did I?”
“But I didn't listen to prog rock.”
“Do I look like a fucking almanac? How was I just supposed to know that, useless piece of information?”
Eventually things worked out pretty well for the two, and it became just another story in the land of Neo-Heaven. Just perfect. Not rushed at all. This is truly how it ended. Believe me.
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