The Works

Misplaced

You awake, dazed, vision blurry and head foggy. All you know is that it's hot - but your skin is dry, and it doesn't bother you. You sit up, rub your eyes to wipe the sleep from your eyes. You are still wearing the white cotton summer dress, but when you look up, you are no longer at the midsummer picnic with all of your friends. Instead you are surrounded by towering spires that stretch up into the red mist miles above you. Large creatures soar between these volcanic towers, letting out an echoing screech.

"Welcome," you hear.

Turning to face the voice, you see a tall and handsome man, holding out his hand. You take it, and he pulls you to your feet.

"Where am I?" You ask, voice hoarse.

"I can imagine you're quite confused. You're in Hell. Allow me to introduce myself - Lucifer. You may have heard of me."

"But if you're...and I'm in...that must mean I'm..."

"Dead. Yes. You...drowned. It was quite the scene. Would you like to hear more?" Lucifer answers.

You nod slowly, bewildered. Just moments ago you were in the sun, surrounded by your friends, your family not too far. How could you be dead? Maybe it's all a dream...

Lucifer tucks your hand into the crease of his elbow and begins walking. "Well, this is going to be quite hard to hear, and everyone's memory is always a bit hazy when they first arrive. But you were down by the river, cooling off from the intense sunshine whilst enjoying your annual picnic with your friends and your family and their families. You and your friends had enjoyed a few drinks, as you're allowed to, and you went down into the water with that boy. The others can't see you, and all you're doing is...splashing around...but then you lose your footing-"

"And I go under the water...the current..."

"Yes, the current was strong. You hit your head, and with the drinks you'd had, you had no control. And that boy...rather than helping you, he...put his foot on your chest...pressed down until...well, I'm sure you know."

"So...I was murdered?" You ask aloud, despite knowing the answer.

"Yes."

You stop, turn to face him. "But if I'm in Hell...where's the screams of pain? The torture? The Seven Circles? Purgatory? Demons and...why don't you look like all those, no offence, awful paintings of you?"

"I appear differently to everyone. Sometimes I do look like those paintings you mentioned, but usually only to those who know they've done the worst things. Despite knowing how awful they are, and how much they fear this place and, myself, they continue to do it. So they see what they expect. Others see the goat image, which is frankly my least favourite. But you seem to just see me as another generic man in a suit," he begins. "As for the landscape, again it varies for the person. Some wake up immediately in their personal Hellscapes, others must be taken, and a rare few like yourself just appear in random locations, and I have to lead them to where they will reside. Does that make sense?"

You nod again, but your mind is far.

"You still seem perplexed. Would you like an example?"

"No...I just...I don't know what I did for me to end up in Hell..."

"Ah, I have something that might help you with that. Follow me."

You follow him through a maze of volcanic rocks and spires, over a river of lava, past pits and locked doors. He brings you to a rather well-constructed...cave? He unlocks it, and inside there are shelves upon shelves of boxes; as you walk past them, you can see they're alphabetised, spotting a few famous monichers. You both come to a stop, he searches, then pulls out a box. Your name is engraved in the top; you open it, and inside is a small glowing sphere.