To Choose Hell
Light spreads all around. I look at my hands, then at the people surrounding me, and notice there are no shadows. With perfect, otherworldly luminescence, we see creation as God intended. Everyone is naked, and each person is a dark notch compared to the light. Instinctively, we gravitate towards a spot. Legs walk, but there is no floor they touch. I head to a random direction, and after some time I stand still with the assembly, in a spot that I think is cozy. Next to my right side is a woman, and on my left, a dwarf that could be no more than 2 feet high. I’ve never seen any of these individuals, but I felt I knew them better than anyone I’ve met in life.
I assume that we have formed a perfect circle, infinitely huge. I can see a line of humans across from me, far in distance yet clearly defined in my perception. The line, wobbly and diverse, containing different heights and genders, extends beyond either side, slowly curving into the section where I stand, and beyond, until the imperfect line rejoins from where my eye had first wandered.
We feel excitement, fear, hope, and everything at once. If I was back on Earth, I would have had many questions. But here and now, we only have one thought: “Can I dupe God?”
A booming voice says, “Begin,” without shaking us like normal sound waves should. I feel the flutter of wings, and a stir among bright light and the formless shapes of my brethren. Starting with the first man conceived, we await our Judgement. Adam steps forward and we all crane our necks to see him. Any queries by the man are answered, and the man steps back in line with the circle. And like so it proceeded, by chronological order of conception, the time of conception determined by some unknown algorithm. Time flies and stagnates. I can safely say that time does not exist here. Nevertheless I wait.
When it is my moment to step forward, all necks turn to watch me. I put out my right foot, and then my left. As soon as I plant my left foot down onto the floor that does not exist, a voice states my name, then asks, “Who am I?”
I do not say anything; it is obvious.
The voice offers, “Do you wish for anything?”
How curious. “Yeah, there’s one thing.”
“What do you want of me?”
“Convince me that Hell exists.”
The supreme voice opens as question to all of Heaven. "Tell me, what is Hell?”
“A fiery inferno!” a person from the circle crowd calls out. “The devil’s domain!” chirps another. “A land of eternal torture and pain, where the faithless receive their punishment.”
A sensation flows over me; I interpret it as the grand light extending a finger pointing at my chest—my heart. The voice says, “Hell is where I am not. Anything else you would like me to do?”
“I have no more requests.”
“Return.”
I take a step back into the circle. What a fool! Just as coldness is the lack of heat and does not actually exist as a tangible construct, Hell is simply the lack of God’s presence? Not even he can convince me hell exists.
Author Note: I wrote this in 2015 a couple days before my birthday. Wow okay, I guess I was a f*#ked up piece of shit in high school, and I still am. I like this story though.