Afterlife

I am the bearer of bad news. You are dead.

Your afterlife will be spent out here in the coldness of space. Go ahead. Look around. Doesn’t the earth look so beautiful from up here? So serene. So blue, so abundant with water.

No, you will never see your loved ones again, and conversely, your loved ones will never see you again. You have no visible body. You are invisible to all but a few. It is my duty to inform you that this is not heaven. You have been found lacking.

Do you remember drowning, Joe? Your plan was to murder your wife. You would spend your summer with your lover. But your wife fooled you by sabotaging your SCUBA equipment and swimming safely to the surface. Ha! Yes, your plan failed. Also, your lover will forget about you. I will deal with her in due time. Too bad you died before the sharks got to you. I would have enjoyed seeing the memory of your flesh getting torn apart bit by bit while you screamed with your last breath.

My name? It isn’t really important, but you can call me Luci, as in a female Lucifer. I’m your worst nightmare. When I was on Earth, my late husband also had an affair. I killed him, and I will enjoy watching you suffer in his stead. There are many of us who act as tormentors. Perhaps in a millennium you will be needed for such a role. I realize that you only asked my name to attempt to evoke sympathy and delay the inevitable. That was a futile gesture, for I will make you pay ten-fold.

Did you enjoy that first zap of fire? Your screaming is music to my ears. No one can hear you except for my kind.

I don’t care if you say you’re sorry. The time for penance has come and gone.

Part of your torment is seeing that nice, cool water and feeling the burn of my fire. There really is no escape. Well, a few resourceful souls have managed to hitch a ride back to the earth with a meteor or a spaceship. That’s how ghosts came to be, but unlike in movies, they really are invisible. They will be just as tormented trying to function on a planet where they cannot be seen, heard or felt.

Here comes a big one. See how nice I am to warn you? It’s just as well you don’t have a body. By now, you’d be wetting yourself, crying, and moaning. My kind alone hear your cries, your wails, and your screams.

There is no sense in trying to flee. I can find you whenever I want, wherever you go. You are mine until such time as the boss sees fit to promote or demote one of us. Yes, there are layers of hell. This is stage two out of six. I think it would have been funny if the boss had chosen 666 levels, but my job isn’t to question the Lord of darkness. Tormentors who lose a soul get demoted, and I have no intention of losing my role. Unlike many, I enjoy making others suffer. That’s why I’m so good at it. I have a plan to work my way over to the Mercury, where they hold the sixth level. That’s where they keep the real sycophants.

How did you like that? I made the fire linger a bit. I hope you realize that we are just getting started. I’ll bet you wish you had your own body back. Then you could pass out and get some relief. No such luck here. I can tell you are remembering when you were a kid and you burned ants with a magnifying glass. I’ll bet you never thought you would sympathize with them.

Oh! I’ve gotta go. I’ve got a new addition to my growing list of sufferers. I will leave you briefly with only a modest burning. You’ve got a short reprieve, but don’t worry, I’ll be back for more screaming good times.

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This is the story of how Joe ended up here: