The Real Hell?

The last thing I remember was the tightness in my chest which grew until obscurity took over. As I open my eyes -wondering if in fact that Cheese Sandwich was too old- my eyes inspect the room just to realise I’m not in my bedroom. I am now sitting in a gothic Victorian designed sitting room with an empty chair opposite me, topped with cookies and coffee lies a quite distinctive serpent engraved coffee table separating the other chair from mine. Not to be missed, of course, were the 12 feet long glass walls and through it, one could see flames, bright burning hellish flames. Hellish? Wait a minute, my train of thought was put on hold by a charming gentleman, who seemed to have appeared out of thin air. 

He chuckles as he proceeds to say “You might not be familiar with this appearance of mine.”, while I gazed at him from head to toe. “Well, you mortals of Adamah might know me as the Sa-”

 

I cut him a mid-sentence, “-lesman, you are a salesman, of course, but you do this is illegal. I mean kidnapping for your elaborate mark-” He eyes at me with disgust, The man’s enraged snorts are heard, “A Salesman? How low do you think of me? how dare you?” I am The Satan, The father of lies, The Archon of this Cosmos ”, as soon as these words leave his mouth, I realize with a startled gasp, The man now stands with a pitchfork, horns and a barbed tail, his face looked as red as a pomegranate 

 

“Is this a..a dream, this is a dream it can’t be real, why would I be dead? This is a dream, right? Right?....this is a dream right?” I ask in a feeble manner

 

“No.” He responds simply. Which made me wonder and think for an embarrassing five minutes but i finally accepted the fact of being dead because I always suspected my neighbour 

 

“Is this… hell?” my voice cracks, i feel my throat dry

 

“Yes, Sammy, Yes but you’re not being punished,” he replies. “For, you are the punishment.” 

 

“What is it supposed to mean, I’m not being punished? I’m the punishment? ” I question, squinting while my eyes adjust to the presence of “ Hell's flames “. I couldn’t possibly fathom any reason anyone would even feel punished by my existence. Sure, I was rather lonely and miserable while I was alive albeit I tried and failed to make friends but never did I do anything I would consider punishing

 

His grotesque smile was the only answer I received 

 

“Well Mr Satan, you do know you aren’t very informative, right?” I sigh. Just as I decided to treat myself to those cookies, a loud knock on the door interrupted me. A tall man in an overcoat walks through, looking quite harried and defeated.

 

Smiling, I give him a wave. He eyes Lucifer warily but lightens up a bit at the sight of me: a white, middle-aged man. “Sit down!” I offer him the empty chair beside me.

 

He gracefully slumps in the chair, eyeing the warm coffee and assortments with reserved judgment. “What’s your crime?” he asks, eyes still fixed at the cookies. 

 

“Oh, it’s funny you ask! This old “Satan” guy here was telling me that I'm here not to get punished but I am the punishment! Isn’t that a riot? I couldn’t possibly understand what he meant. It really got me thinking about this funny joke I heard once about-.” I start to laugh uncontrollably, thinking about the punchline. The man’s eyes shift from the cookies to me as he stares at me staggered.

 

“Ok,” I snorted as I continued. “I think it went something like, ‘Which Bible character walks in th-… No, that’s not it, Oh yes. I remember” I look at him, barely holding back giggles. “Which Bible character had no parents?”

 

“I’m not sure…” he answers hesitantly with a sigh.

  

“Joshua, son of Nun, Isn’t that hilarious? Nun sounds like none, do you understand it? I heard that once on Jimmy Kimmel. I wonder if he’s going to be going to hell or not. I mean, he’s of course too funny to come to hell but you never can tell with those celebrities sometimes. I mean, I really did think that Jim Parson was straight so perhaps I’m not the best judge of character, you know? Oh, this is so fun? It feels like I have not talked in ages! Usually, they just get this bored look over their eyes and sometimes they even walk away right in the middle of my story which is painful, some even say I am motormouth but who are they to say but it looks like you’re trapped here with me for a bit! Which reminds me of this one time when…”