Inferno

No one really knows what happens after you die. There's countless religions and theories
and explanations people have come up with, but no one's really seen the other side, as much
as they'd like to claim to. Regardless of whatever explanation or reason you come up with to
solve this mystery, it will never be the same as truly knowing.

Realizing I was dead wasn't as much of a distressing situation as you'd expect. At least for me, anyway. I'm sure that countless others have had different experiences in standing over their own dead body. Death was a lot more painless than it seemed. Or maybe it wasn't, and I'd simply forgotten how it felt in the final moments as I slipped away. That seemed to be the case, considering how I couldn't even remember how I died. It was like waking up without remembering when you fell asleep.

"How long do you intend on standing there?"

When I turned around, I was met with the sight of a strange being standing before me. He looked almost human, but his skin appeared to be the blackest of ink, like a statue made of the substance. He wore a dark gray cloak and in his hand he held a long scythe, parked over his shoulder. That was the thing that tipped me off that this must be the Grim Reaper.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"You can call me Grim," he replied. He held out his hand, a simple offer. "Are you ready to go?"

I hesitated. "Well, what does that mean? Am I ready to go where?"

"You're dead. I'm here to take you to your final destination. Are you ready to go?"

I wasn't satisfied with that explanation. "What is my final destination? Is it possible that I could just stay here instead of going wherever it is that you're going to take me?"

"I can't tell you where you're going. You could very well stay here, for I can't force souls to do anything they don't want to." He lowered his hand. "I wouldn't recommend it, though."

"Why's that?"

We were standing in my silent bedroom, in a house at the top of a hill. Grim looked out the window at the forest bleeding into the town below, gazing thoughtfully at the tree branches swaying in the wind.

"Watching life move on without you can prove to be a very...difficult experience. Maybe you'll be alright with it at first. Being the observer can be quite the enjoyable role, but all enjoyment comes to an end. At some point in your existence, you will wish for the sweet release of death. But you're already dead. You'll sooner go insane than learn to cope with your unending residence in this place."

"How do I know that the place I'm going to will be any better or worse than that?"

He returned his gaze to mine. "You're not supposed to know. It only causes problems, for me and for you." He paused. "Let's put it this way: if you were placed in the worst conditions imaginable, without any concept of anything better, would you really have any qualms with being stuck there? It'd be all that you've known. You have no reason to wish for anything better because there's nothing better. But if you found out that there was some place far better than your own, what would that do for your psyche?"

I considered what he was saying, and quietly nodded. It made sense, especially considering the world I'd lived in. "So is there a heaven and hell of some sort?"

"If that's what you'd like to call it, sure."

"What if--"

"Look," he interrupted, "I'd love to stand here and talk to you about things I can't tell you, but I've got a very busy schedule. There are souls that I need to be collecting. Are you ready to move on or not? Because if not, then I have to get going."

"If there is hell," I said, "Could I see it?"

He stared at me with an incredulous look on his face. "Why would you want to? I'm not necessarily allowed to, but what would that even do? What possible benefit would that have, regardless of whether or not that's your true destination?"

I shrugged. "Satisfying my curiosity."

"And what do you intend to do if I don't let you?"

I shrugged again. "Maybe I'll just stay here."

Grim let out a long sigh. It was very evident to me that his patience was wearing thin. "I'm not supposed to let you 'preview' what your possible afterlife may be. If I show you 'hell' you won't be allowed to leave. For a lot of reasons, and more for the sake of order than for your own personal sanity."

"Because it wouldn't be fair to anyone else?" I suggested.

"Partially. Knowing that, would you still want to go there and see it?"

I went silent. Would it be worth it? For all I knew, he could be lying. Maybe there was no better or worse place. It was also possible that I'd be voluntarily damning myself to a place I wasn't meant to go. It's not like I'd know either way, so what exactly would I be losing? I was starting to regret asking in the first place. And for a reason I didn't know, I found myself nodding. "Yes, I'd like to see it."

He didn't say anything for a moment, and maybe a brief flicker of sadness danced across his face, but I couldn't be sure. "Alright."

Grim lifted up his scythe, and twisted it in the air as though he were grabbing onto something. The very reality in front of us was ripped open as though it were a cloth, creating a dark empty portal. Its energy vibrated the air around us, pulsating and breathing as though it were a living wound."This is your last chance to change your mind," he said.

"I'm sure. Let's go."

"I cannot guarantee your satisfaction. What you will see may be just what you need, or it will bring you no peace." He stepped through the portal, gesturing for me to follow. "Come along, now."

I followed him through the gash-like portal, and stepped into a quiet and empty place. My feet sank into some cold and thick substance, wrapping around my shins. The sky above and around us consumed any sense of light, becoming nothing more than a void. The only thing that was visible stretched out in front of us as a long, dark river. Grim began wading through the dark liquid, wasting no time. The only sound cutting through the awful, suffocating silence that surrounded us with an insufferable pressure, was our feet swishing through the heavy, cold river. Something about the quiet was horribly unsettling. We were being watched, but by what? You could see nothing in the endless void that surrounded us.

I leaned over to Grim and whispered quietly, "What is this place?"

A chill ran up my spine. So that's what we were walking through? "Is this...is this it?"

"Yes." He was silent for a moment, then continued, "Best we don't continue talking. There are wraiths sleeping on either side of the river. If they hear us, they'll drag you down into the river for an eternity."

That was all I needed to hear. The rest of the trek across the bridge was without conversation, and admittedly, that made it feel that much longer. However long it really took, I couldn't be sure. Maybe it was better that I didn't know. The emptiness of the bridge was soon replaced by a dank humidity. There was no doorway that we stepped through, nor any transition from river to land. It was a sharp cut into a different environment, which was disorienting, to say the very least. A forest lay before me, dark and quiet. Maybe just as quiet as the bridge had been. The trees were all dark and twisted, their bare branches stretching up into the endless sky. Dead plants served as the undergrowth, sticking up out of the marshy ground. The humid and frigid air was vile, stinking of decay and death. I instinctively clasped my hands over my nose and mouth, but found that to be an ineffective reflex. The rancid air still ran straight through me, tasting sickly sweet. Grim suddenly grabbed my arm and pulled me forward, and that's when I noticed that dark vines, stretching out of the ground, had been snaking themselves around my ankles. I stumbled away, shaking myself free.

"Don't stand in one place for too long," he told me. "The ground will eat you alive." He started through the forest and I followed right behind him. There didn't seem to be anything around. I narrowed my eyes, peering through the trees, and then realized I was dead wrong. Little pinpricks of light stared back at me, and while I initially thought they were distant structures or maybe lanterns, I realized they were creatures. Eyes staring right back at me. The more I could see, the clearer their silhouettes were. They were watching us.

"What is this place called?"

"The Dark Forest," Grim replied, and when he saw where I was looking, he continued, "The shadows call it Death's Realm."

"What exactly...are the shadows?"

"Sinners. All of those who've committed crimes against fellow humans. Everyone here will become one eventually." He trained his attention back forward. "Don't make eye contact. They're malicious creatures only meant to torment anything they can."

I quickly turned away. "So they were all human once?"

"Yes. It's rather unfortunate, isn't it?"

The further we walked, the more I could see, and soon we began to pass ruins. They were things reminiscent of old Roman architecture, and then I recognized some parts from ancient depictions of what Atlantis could've been. They were scattered about in pieces, even some entire buildings were mostly intact.

"What are...what are these from?"

"When your human creations sink deep enough, when they're forgotten, they all end up down here."

"How?"

"That is a question I cannot answer."

I stared at the ruins for a bit longer. "Does this mean that Atlantis was real?"

We continued on through the dead forest, and at this point, I was unsure where I was being led. It didn't appear to have an end or a beginning. It was an empty wasteland of death and decay, what more was there to see? And just as this was all running through my mind, a sudden shrill scream pierced through the thick silence. It echoed through the dark sky, laden with anguish. I visibly flinched at the sound as it shot through my whole being. Another, quieter scream followed it, shortened off by a pained cry.

"What was that?" I whispered.

Grim didn't reply for a moment and I could see it on his face that he was considering not answering at all, but in the end, he did, "A fallen angel. Unlike humans, they cannot become shadows, so they're stuck here suffering for eternity." The cry came again, though much weaker. Grim paused, then turned in a different direction. I followed. It wasn't like I'd be able to tell the difference, anyway, regardless of whatever direction we were going in: the forest, stretched in all directions, looked the same. The darkness continued until a bright light in the distance broke through the treeline. Unlike the eyes of the shadows, this was actual light. It came into focus as we grew nearer, and soon I was able to see the source. Grim stopped before we got too close and I stopped next to him, peering around a tree trunk. Crumpled on the ground, wrapped in the black vines, was an angel. She certainly didn't look like what I'd expect an angel to look like. Sure, she had those big white wings, but she looked like just any ordinary person I would've known in my life. No big white cape or robe, and not even an inhuman depiction like the kind that was present in biblical scriptures. Just a woman, looking close to any woman in her late twenties, with broken wings, clothes dirtied by the muddy ground, and a tear-streaked face.

"There's many of them here. For your own sake, pay them no mind." He turned away. "It's better for them as well."

I continued on after him, glancing over my shoulder at the angel crying out in anguished cries that would never be answered. My instinct was to offer her some comfort, but I figured it was pointless. There was no comfort to be had here. She knew that, I knew that, and there was nothing I could do to help. And continuing on, I spotted a path cutting through the forest. It looked to be made up of gray gravel, standing out against the void blackness. I tugged on Grim's cloak as a child would and pointed at it, asking "What's that path lead to?"

Grim glanced over and shook his head. "Insanity. Avoid any paths you see."

"What do you mean by that? Insanity?"

"Paths are traps made by shadows that feed on anything here that still has sanity left," he said. "The longer you spend on a path, the further your mind will fall. If I remember correctly, they loop, so you're never getting anywhere."

"'If you remember correctly'? Do you not know for sure?"

"I haven't bothered to follow a path's length completely. It's a waste of time."

We soon arrived at a river, which ran through the forest just like any other river on earth would. It shared the characteristic of the bridge in that it was also made of ink and tar. It flowed very slowly, with rocks jutting out of the middle. The two of us hopped across them to the other side, and I might've enjoyed it in an ordinary forest, but this was hell.

"How much have you seen?" I asked.

Grim looked at me. "I don't understand the question."

"I mean...of life. The world. Everything."

"Far too much," he sighed. "I've been around long before humans realized they were humans, and I will be here long after the last one of you dies. Dreadfully so."

"Will there ever be a real end?"

"Of course."

"When will that happen?"

"When the final clock stops."

I considered asking for clarification. A vague, cryptic answer, and every itch in my brain was screaming at me to get more information, but I kept quiet that time. That was something better left untouched--trying to perceive the end of everything. If knowing the true afterlife wouldn't drive my sanity into oblivion, that definitely would. The forest started to thin out and we arrived at a cliff. We stopped there, standing on the rocky edge, as some version of wind blew around us. There, a rocky beach lay below, which led into an open sea of ink and tar. It was awfully still. Unnaturally so. You'd expect a sea to have moving waves, crashing against the shore, but it was just as unmoving as a pond with a dead body in it. And then I realized what a strange comparison that was. I looked around the edge to see how far the cliffs stretched, and spotted a decrepit castle a little ways away. I raised my arm and pointed in that direction. "What's the deal with that castle? Is it just more ruins?"

Grim looked over at it. "Yes, though, that castle houses a shadow who calls himself the 'King of Rot'. He's just another tortured soul. It's in your best interest to leave him alone."

"And how far is the sea? Does it go anywhere?"

"Nowhere worth looking. This realm is endless. It goes as far as you can comprehend, and then even further. At some point, it will start to make less sense. Maybe things won't stick together quite so well. Maybe the sky will break apart."

I checked to see if the vines had wrapped themselves around my legs, and much to my relief, they hadn't. It seemed as though standing on the rocks served as some sort of protection against them. And returning my attention to him, Grim seemed to be deep in thought, staring out at the open sea, but you couldn't really tell what was on his mind. He had an unreadable expression on his face. Despite his bluntness and occasionally rude manner of speech, I found myself more trusting in him than I initially thought I would be.

"Can you...tell me more about yourself?" I asked.

His eyes flickered over to me for a moment. "There's not much to tell. You need to be more specific than that."

I paused, trying to think of a better question. "Okay. Do you...I don't know, do you have a favorite color?"

Grim coughed out what I assumed to be a laugh. "Of all the things you could ask me, you ask for my favorite color?"

"Well, do you have one?"

"No, I don't worry myself with such trivial things as what color I believe to be the most favorable." He straightened out his cloak, fiddling with the hemline, as he further considered my question. "Though, if I had to choose...I particularly enjoy the pigmentation of the red dahlia."

"So you like flowers?"

"You could say that."

I nodded. "I think flowers are quite nice as well."

Silence stretched between us once again. A kind of silence that needed to be filled. One of the things I didn't particularly like about this place was the horrible, awful, silence. If anything, I considered it to be worse than the idea of sinners being tortured and their screams filling the air instead of just absolute nothingness. Quiet like this meant that you were alone, but the difference was that in this place, you were never quite so alone. I tried to ignore the feeling and start another conversation. "If you're meant to be on earth collecting souls...isn't this wasting your time?"

"Time on earth moves far slower than everywhere else." He produced a pocket watch from his robes, and checked the time on it briefly, before tucking it away once again. "It's been just a minute in your time since we've left."

"And how much time has it been here? How does that really translate?"

Grim shrugged. "It's difficult to really measure it. It's not really linear anywhere outside of earth."

"Oh. Alright." I glanced around. "Has anyone else ever asked to see hell?"

"Of course."

"Did any of them ever go through with it like I did?"

"Yes."

I didn't say anything for another few moments. "And you remember all of them."

"I remember their faces. Names tend to mean less and less as time goes on, so whatever they introduce themselves to me as, I won't remember it." Grim shifted the position of his scythe as it leaned on his shoulder. "It's always the philosophers who ask. In death, they hunger for more knowledge than they can handle. They want to know if they were right, in any form, about the truth of morality. I can never say whether they are or aren't. Philosophy is tricky that way." When I didn't say anything, he continued, "That's the thing about humans. You all struggle to let go of your lives. You struggle to let go of your insatiable hunger for knowledge and answers. That's why so many of you stay behind on earth, haunting the old familiar places. Animals don't have that."

"You collect the souls of animals as well?"

"Almost every living thing has a soul. Animals are a lot more willing to let go of their lives. They're a lot more content than humans could ever be."

"I guess that makes sense," I said. "They have less to leave behind."

"That's not really the case, but you can believe that if you want to."

"So I guess ghosts have been real this whole time. Just people too afraid or too stubborn leave their lives behind." I folded my hands in front of me. "Are they ever happy like that?"

"That was a..." rhetorical question? I assumed he wanted to say, but he simply nodded instead. "Thanks for your insight, I suppose."

"All this time you've been with me," I said, "You haven't really asked me anything. Why's that?"

"There's not much of a point. You haven't told me anything I haven't already heard, and it wouldn't be any different if I asked you anything else."

"Do you know everything?"

"Not in the slightest."

"Then how can you know if I'm just going to tell you something you've already heard before?"

He sighed. "There's something of a...pattern. You all ask the same questions. Maybe with different words, but they're the same in the information that you want to receive. Everyone I've talked to, from the greatest of kings, to the worst of criminals, and the most pacifist of men, have all lived the same lives, simply from a different perspective." He looked at me again. "The only thing that's uncommon about you is that you haven't told me much about yourself. Those who decide to speak to me at all have an unshakeable tendency to share their life story. And if it's not their life story, it's regrets or secrets that they took with them to their grave, quite literally. It's rare that I meet someone who offers nothing about themself."

"There's not much to share," I replied, realizing I was echoing his earlier statement about himself, just as the words were leaving my mouth. "I never really liked talking about myself anyway. Besides, in a situation like this, wouldn't it be more interesting to learn about your circumstances than echo things that you already know about yourself?"

Grim shrugged. "Perhaps. But I've never died. I will never know what your lives and deaths and experiences are all like." Nearer to the end of that sentence, there was a break in his monotone voice. Was he...sad about that?

He turned away from the cliffside and started heading back into the forest. I followed, not knowing what else to do. If we were heading back the way we came, I wouldn't be able to tell. Our footprints in the marsh quickly vanished after every step we took, as though we were never there.

"I'm sure you have many more questions," he said to me.

"I probably always will."

"Some things are just better learned by experience." Grim stopped next to a larger tree, with a thick trunk. A large hole was present in the center, pitch black and hollow. He stared into the void-like hole pensively, before turning back to me. His hesitation to speak was thick in the air around us, vibrating with a live tension. "This is where I depart. This realm will be your home for the next eternity."

"Thank you," I said, "For guiding me through it."

"You have nothing to thank me for." He turned to leave, setting the blade of his scythe in the air as he did before.

"Wait a minute, I have one more thing to ask."

Grim looked over at me. "What is it?"

"Where was I really meant to end up?"

"You don't want to know."

"But I do," I insisted. "This is something that I need."

He shook his head. "No, it's not. It won't bring you satisfaction or peace, regardless of the answer. It never does for anyone."

"It will. It's not knowing that will leave me restless."

Grim muttered under his breath,"All the same, you're all the same," slightly turned away from me, then said, "Are you really sure you want to know?"

I nodded.

When he told me, I was filled with an indescribable pain that enveloped my entire being. Whether or not pain was the right thing to call it, this feeling was not a pleasant one. I watched the Grim Reaper disappear, and then I collapsed hopelessly beside the hollow tree.

He was right. It didn't bring me any peace at all.