For my entire life, I've been told that good people go with the angels when they die, and the bad go with the demons. I've been that if your spirit is pure, you'll be rewarded with a gilded fleece, beautiful harp music, wine that flows from mountain springs, and beautiful servants that will see to your every need. On the contrary, if the spirit is foul, you shall face an eternity of pain and unspeakable horrors.
I had been told that in Heaven, you will be able to once again unite with loved ones that were once lost. It had been said that every pet that you had would await you in your grand mansion of ivory blocks and pillared with platinum columns which held delicate carvings of the most beautiful depictions of human form imaginable. Every room in the house would be floored with viscoelastic foam and carpeted with elegant rugs, hand woven in the finest Chinese silk.
On the other hand, in Hell, you will watch your loved ones be disemboweled with screwdrivers and simultaneously sodomized with splintered mop handles. Your pets will always await you with the hungriest of eyes. If you should ever decide to stand still, the room about you would change form and allow entry to every horrible beast that ever haunted your dreams. The floors would be coated with tar and thick mud that would forever hinder your progress. The air itself would be seemingly gelatinous and the walls engineered to contain a certain elasticity to prevent leaning and to increase the difficulty in finding your way through the darkness.
In Heaven, one's status is almost that of celebrity, save for the annoyances that accompany the gift. In Hell, one only obtains hatred and ridicule. In Heaven, there are no pests or species that shall arouse fear or angst. In Hell, the air is choked with vampiric insects and the ground moves with every creature that you shall ever detest.
None of these things shall I ever see. I tell you these things because I hope that my stories shall inspire whoever hears them to make some type of choice in the lives they lead, good or evil, for it is far worse not to choose. Darkness, silence, moisture and the wretched odors of stale air, mold, dank soil, and decaying wood are the only sensations that I shall ever behold. The company of demons would be far superior to my eternal loneliness. I would greatly prefer not being able to stop moving to not being able to move at all.
You see, you get only what you put into life and I have done nothing. Had I made any contribution at all, I would not be damned to remain in my plot forever.
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