The Tree of Knowledge

Dark.

So dark.

But I'm warm at least. And I seem to be lying on something soft.

"Kit Hargrove," a voice says. The voice seems to be from far away. I hear footsteps padding closer to me. As the footsteps draw closer, the voice gets louder.

"You committed adultery." It says. "You cross-dressed. You took the Lord's name in vain. You spoke the names of other gods and willingly looked upon their images. You lied. You stole. You disobeyed your husband. And you killed two men."

The voice is right next to me now.

"Kit Hargrove," he says. "Open your eyes."

There's a man standing over me with skin the color of coffee with cream and bright blue eyes. He wears a long, deep red tailcoat and a black top hat. He has the longest, most graceful looking fingers I've ever seen. He's framed by the bright blue sky behind him, the same blue as his piercing eyes.

He offers me a hand to help me up off the ground.

"Welcome to Hell." he says.

I'm standing in the middle of a giant, sprawling garden. All around me sunlight bounces off of great tree branches hung low with fruit. Flowers bloom everywhere in impossible colors I cannot name. There's a stream running down the middle and the water sparkles like diamonds. And I don't mean that as a metaphor. It glitters amazingly, refracting the light with thousands of rainbows.

Birds alight on the tree branches with the most perfect, beautiful songs. The birds, they're singing "The Origin of Love" from Hedwig and the Angry Inch.

The grass beneath my bare feet is the softest I've ever felt. It's like walking on velvet. The intoxicating aroma of the flowers all around me fills me up.

It's the most beautiful garden I've ever seen.

But it's not a garden, I realize. It's a library. There are shelves within the trees, like they grew that way, the branches contorting to form shelves. Hundreds of books line the trees, their covers just as fabulously colored as the flowers. More shelves are formed into polished stones. Stacks of books sit amongst the flowers.

It takes my breath away.

"Allow me to introduce myself," the man in the tailcoat says. "I have a great many names, but I prefer to go by Lucifer."

He tips his top hat to me.

"At your service."

I still can't stop staring at it all.

"It's..." I trail off. Struck dumb by the view. Unable to find the words.

"Not what you expected?" Lucifer finishes helpfully.

"I thought Hell was supposed to be... fire... and pain and suffering."

"Would you like it to be?" he asks me curiously.

"No." I say, shaking my head empathetically.

Lucifer shrugs.

"Some people do." he says. "Some people feel the need to be punished for the things they've done during their life."

He approaches a door, a door that is also a tree.

"You late husband, for instance." he says, opening the door.