Oblivion held me.
It was an eternal stretch of black, extending far beyond the comprehension of a fragile human mind, snuffing out every sense in an embrace of pure, unadulterated vacancy.
It felt… comforting. Welcoming, even.
It was impossible to tell how much time passed while I existed in this state of non-being. Seconds, hours, decades, centuries? The void that cradled me was indifferent to trivial concepts like time, and since I was equally non-existent, I didn't care either.
My existence continued to be nothing, drifting as one with the empty dark.
However, amidst the silence, a single thought sliced through the null, anchoring me back to a reality I wasn't sure I wanted.
Where am I?
The universe answered with violence.
With a thunderous crack, a colossal beam of light zeroed in on me, shattering the velvet blanket of darkness that had protected me and,
"Holy fuck!"
The scream tore from my throat, raw and terrified. I frantically slapped my hands over my face, trying to shield my eyes, ears, and nose all at once. Turn it off! Turn it off!
I was existing again, and I hated it instantly. The sensory overload, crashing down after potentially a millennium of peace, was the most agonizing thing I had ever felt.
The assault didn't stop at sight and sound. Blinded and disoriented, I stumbled over my own feet and crashed onto the floor. It was hard and freezing cold, a tactile shock so horribly real compared to the void of five seconds ago that it made me nauseous.
I wanted to go back.
For the love of all that is holy, give me back the sweet nothingness! I pleaded silently. I just want to float around doing absolutely sweet FA without this horrible, stinging pain! Please!
In complete disregard of my internal prayers, someone cleared their throat. Apparently, they were not amused by my writhing on the floor.
"If you could settle down, please?"
Slowly, still reeling from the torture of having senses again, I stopped trying to cover my eyes with my foot. From my sprawled position on the cold floor, I hesitantly looked up.
Standing above me was a figure draped in long, white robes. Cascading blonde hair framed a face that was strikingly androgynous. They wore a serene, angelic smile that managed to calm my panic, simply by virtue of how genuine it looked.
"Thank you," they said. Their gratitude sounded so sincere that I immediately felt unworthy of it. "Now, I know you are confused, in pain, and suffering, but the sooner we do this, the sooner we can get you settled."
I blinked rapidly, trying to clear the massive, projector-sized burns from my retinas.
"I regret to inform you," the being said, a tinge of true sorrow coloring their voice, "that you have died."
…Oh.
"Do not worry, everything will be fine," they added quickly, likely fearing I was about to start screaming like a toddler shitting themselves again. "Just know that, now that you are fully awake and conscious of your existence, I will proceed with the judgment."
That sounded ominous.
"Judgment?" I croaked.
"Yes. We will judge you based on the actions you took while living. This will determine where you will spend the rest of your existence."
That… didn't sound good. At all.
Now that the cozy blanket of oblivion had been ripped away with zero mercy, my sense of self slammed back into place. And with it came my memories.
Turns out, I wasn't exactly a saint.
The memories flooded in: mugging people in alleyways, stealing food and clothes, perhaps a few shankings when things got desperate, and, most prominently, the innumerable frauds I'd committed while alive. It wasn't exactly shaping up to be a ticket to the Pearly Gates.
But come on, what else was I supposed to do?
I was born into extreme, stupidly miserable poverty. After getting kicked out by dear old Dad, I'd had to fend for myself for twelve exhausting years. I did whatever was necessary to get a piece of stale bread onto my plate.
However, considering I was currently standing in a white void under a spotlight, facing an angel, I could say with confidence that I had completely fucked up.
"Uh, is there an option to not do that?" I asked, desperate to avoid an eternity of hellfire, pitchforks, and terrible Nightcore remixes.
The angel, maintaining that serene, beautiful smile, raised a single eyebrow.
"Sure," they said, though they sounded suspicious. "But know that avoiding judgment will land you in Purgatory, a land where you will never find solace."
"That's okay. I'm dandy with it."
Perfect. Hellfire avoided. An eternity of mediocrity? Let's go.
The angel looked at me, a hint of disappointment staining their flawless features.
"As you wish, then," they sighed, reaching into a hidden pocket in their robes to produce a large, brown book. It was thick and tightly bound. "Regardless of your choice, however, I still need to give a cursory glance at your life. Just to be safe."
Crap.
"But you just said, "
"There are always exceptions," the angel interrupted, a frown finally massacring their beauty. "If your actions were horrid enough in life, then no amount of begging will allow you to avoid your fate."
Before I could protest further, they opened the book and began flipping through the pages with practiced speed.
"Oh, here it is," they said, locating my unimpressive life after only a few seconds. "So, just to be sure... your name is Daniel, correct?"
Despite a lifetime of lies and slander, even I knew it wasn't the best idea to play coy now.
"Yup, that's me."
They continued reading, adopting a dry, matter-of-fact tone.
"Male. Born in Chile into extreme poverty. Died at age twenty via a beatdown. Responsible for minor crimes and fraud, frequent user of alcohol and tobacco, and a frequent troublemaker at whatever homeless shelter he stayed at."
They hesitated for a moment before reading the final item.
"Had no loved ones whatsoever."
With each listed fact, my anxiety spiked. I just had to hope Hell wasn't too lax on its entrance requirements. The angel looked up from the book and gave me a look of profound pity.
"I know this… file… doesn't exactly do justice to your entire life, but this is as far as I can go without properly judging you. If you allowed me, I could delve deeper into your psyche and truly know if you deserve salvation. Without your approval, these actions are all I can see."
I didn't even have to think before answering.
"I'm good."
It wasn't a lie. My life had been pretty shit. Now that an eternity of complete nothingness, or endless torture, was on the table, I didn't see many reasons to risk pushing my luck.
"As you wish," they said, offering me a sad smile.
It was the first time anyone had ever looked at me like that.
From whatever ethereal pockets their robe contained, the angel pulled out a pristine sheet of white parchment, free of creases, alongside a golden quill tipped with a brilliant, glowing feather.
"In the name of the Lord," they intoned solemnly, "I sentence you to an eternity wandering in Purgatory, where you may someday find your own form of solace, wherever it may be."
As the angel lowered the pen to the paper, I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing myself for my fate to begin. There was nothing to do now but face the music.
And so, I waited.
…
…
And waited.
…
…
Taking a while to arrive, huh?
…
Okay, seriously, what the fuck.