What we are taught about heaven couldn’t be further from the truth. Yesterday, I died for 5 minutes. Completely flatlined. I went to heaven, or whatever you want to call it. The doctors brought me back, and I went into an absolute frenzy; and no, it did not feel like a fleeting dream, it felt like an eternity. I was there, I felt it all… the immense pain… the pain that I definitely deserved. The doctors told me that I was attacked by a raging lunatic; fortunately, the kitchen knife narrowly missed my heart. The man trying to murder me was stopped by bystanders. Then my vacation to the afterlife began.
A firm slap shocked me out of my slumber, “Hey! What the fuck?” I yelled out. I peered up at a man who looked to be in his 40s, sporting a slender black suit and a neatly kept beard. I stood up, red-faced and shocked at this man’s nerve to slap me while in my deep dreamy state. “Who the fuck are you?” I grunted as I stood face to face with him. “You shouldn’t be swearing here; you’ll kick yourself in the arse when I finally tell you where you are…” he chuckled. “Where the hell am…”, my sentence was interrupted by a loud yell in the room next door; I couldn’t quite make out what it said though. I took a moment to look around the room. It had remnants of the Victorian Era scattered all around it - a fireplace dimly lit the deep brown mahogany floor and the blood-red decor.
The man in front of me let out a sigh, as if irritated that I no longer took notice of him due to the lovely surroundings - he proceeded to sit in a rosewood antique chair. “Are you quite done?” He murmured. I snapped out of my awe and returned my attention to him, “Where am I and who are you?” I snapped at him. Clearly ignoring me, he reached into his coat, pulled out a golden cigarette holder, and proceeded to take out a thin tobacco leaf cigarette - he raised his head slightly and looked up at me as he lit the tobacco. “You, my friend, are one of the privileged ones; somewhere and somehow you managed to grasp His attention. Judging by your reaction earlier, I’m not quite sure how you made it here; if it were up to me, you’d be burning. However, I don’t make the rules.”
“Burning? How about you tell me where I am?” I raised my voice, clearly becoming irritated. The man took a long drag of his cigarette and blew it up into the antique candle-lit chandelier. “You’re asking an awful lot of questions, and to be frank, I can’t be bothered answering them for you. All you need to know is that your impending doom is on the other side of that door.” He said as he raised two fingers with the cigarette wedged between them toward a rustic-looking door. The same door that the yell came from. “He’ll see you soon.” He said, smiling.
As he lowers his hand, the door swings open. “Peter!” Booms a voice from within the room, “Bring that lovely gentleman in here” the voice insists. “Let’s not keep him waiting….” the man told me firmly and signaled me to get up and approach the door. I hesitate for a second but the desire to find out where I am is burning inside of me. I stood and slowly approached the doorway. As I approached, I could smell the scent of burning charcoal and whiskey - the room dimly lit by yet another fireplace. Inside, a man sat at a large, daunting mahogany desk - upon the desk lay a piece of parchment and a golden fountain pen dangling from a thin silver stand. The entire room surrounded by a bookshelf and yet another door leading to a new undiscovered location.
“The name is Fievel, correct?” The man asked. I approached more closely and didn’t respond. The man held his arms on the table with his chin resting on his knuckle. Eyes as blue as the ocean and slick hair as grey as ash, he was almost mesmerizing. “Thank you, Peter, you can close the door now. Leave us be.” He motioned to the man that had woken me up earlier. “Take a seat,” he uttered, and like clockwork, I listened. “W-who are you?” I stuttered due to intimidation.
“I am God,” he added.
Something deep inside me believed him immediately.
“Fievel… you are a very special human.” He spoke as he looked down to the parchment on the table. “If you haven’t already figured it out, you’re dead. You died at the hands of another man named Freddy Burns. Do you remember this?” He asked. I shook my head. “Your memory will slowly come back. I assure you. However, you might wish that it hadn’t.” He continued to look at the parchment and turned it over.
“You see, you’re in the afterlife - call it Heaven if you wish. Not entirely sure why you humans insisted on trying to understand my work. You all clearly got it wrong. You all wrote stories about me, my brothers and sisters, and portrayed your flaws and inconsistencies onto us. I can assure you, we aren’t like you Humans.” He said with a chuckle in his voice.
“Anne Burns,” he said as he looked up at me. “Does that name ring a bell?”. I shook my head once again - a bead of sweat slid down my forehead. “This girl is a very special human in your life. When you were alive and well you believed that she was your key. Your key to becoming an all-powerful being. To having complete and utter control. To become me. I tend not to waste my time with you humans; however, you intrigued me.” Joy could be found in his voice as he continued.
“Anne was 12 when you had first met her; her gentle soul radiated a warmth throughout your heart. You had found the perfect specimen for your transformation. An angel. You had to have her. Selfishly, you had stolen her from the love of her family and surrounded her with only your love and compassion. In the form of a basement with barely enough light to illuminate your everlasting darkness.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about…” I let out a confused cry.
“I guess I’ll just have to show you.” He stood up and motioned me to the door. Against my will, my body stood on its own and made its way to the door. Fighting made no difference. He pulled the deadlock and opened the door. The opening led to a basement. The smell of mold and excrement filled my nose, my stomach churned. A dim lightbulb illuminated the room enough to see a rusted metal chair in the center of the room; the chair faced a wall with a frame housing a photograph of a young girl and underneath a plaque. It read “Anne Burns”.
“Sit down,” God demanded. “Please… I d-don’t even know who Anne is!” I pleaded.
“Sit on the fucking chair!” He let out a demonic roar that echoed throughout the room. Tears streaming down my face, I made my way to the chair, as I lay my hand on the armrest, a searing pain forced me to let out a cry. Without the ability to control my body, I sat in the chair, steam rose from my limbs. I could feel immense pain, however, my skin appeared to look normal.
Peter came through the door and chuckled as he approached me. He proceeded to seal my mouth shut to drown out my screams. Then he proceeded to exit the room. God kneeled down to me and pushed up against my chin to level our eye contact. He wiped away a tear.
“Welcome to your new reality. You chose to play God. I’m here to show you that there is only one God. Each day you’ll experience what she did. In a thousand years’ time, I’ll put an end to this; however, this room is a special room. Each second for me will be a year for you. It might as well be for eternity.”
He stood up and left the room. My tears hitting the chair and immediately vaporizing. I looked up at the image of Anne on the wall and wept - filled with remorse and guilt.
The door to the room swung open. My eyes widened. A man who looked exactly like me walked into the room. An unnatural grin spread throughout his face, his eyes filled with malice.
“So good to see you Anne.”