Guilt

I left the diner. The sand of the surrounding desert spilled over the street. In the distance, saw a checkpoint. No fencing. Just an arm bar and guard box. “That shouldn’t be there,” I mused.

Good enough place to start, though.

“Hello.” The guard said to me.

I didn’t know what to say. Sure the obvious is, “Hello.” But it didn’t occur to me.

“Hello.” Well, then it did.

“Where’re you going?” I pointed to the other side of the arm bar and the vast desert beyond. The guard twisted on his heels and surveyed the bleak terrain. Then twisted back.

“There. There’s nothing there. What’re you hoping to find?”

“Nothing.”

“Plenty of that.”

“Seems so.”

He studied me some more.

“Can I go?” I asked. He looked again at the desert then back at me.

“Of course.” With that, he raised the arm and I walked through.

I am going to make a monster pay for his sins. And that monster is me.

This might take a little explaining. I was a serial killer. More than you can ever hope to imagine. And if you did hope for such, you’d have some serious issues.

Sickening would be a start for what I’ve done. Fucked the dead? Yes. I’ve done that. Many times. Bathed in blood. Eaten organs. It was all such a wonder and joy to me.

112. That’s how many people I’ve murdered. Know all their names. My record keeping was impeccable. Would have done more, if I could. All day long.

Mostly women, some men. Probably ‘cause I was hetrosexual. And women are just easier to manage.

It was a huge high. The control. The power. Everything they say. Such was having a delicate lump of meat between my ears that was so very inferior.

And there’s the element of the word “was.” No longer that way. Was I cured? They found out what was wrong with my sick brain and fixed it? In a way.

I was killed.

Sergeant Miles Brown of the Los Angeles Police Department killed me. Well, technically murdered me as he had me dead to rights (no pun intended). Had tossed my knife away. Dropped a gun on me after I was dead to make it look legit. And a helluva thing to have that moment where six bullets go into your body. Burns. Shocking. Sergeant Brown was a very good shot.

But that’s fine. NOW seems reasonable. I was a piece of shit. An abomination to good folk. To even bad folk. Granted, I paid my taxes on time and honestly, although not much of a consolation to the families.

After I was dispatched, the next thing I knew, I was in Heaven.

But at a cluttered desk in a run-down office. Orientation. And you’re going to be a bit disappointed with the afterlife.

In the living, I was a sick fuck. Never thought so, but I was. Then the horrible guilt set in. Didn’t have a broken brain in Heaven. Was healthy. And knew the horrors I caused.

Only thing is, Heaven didn’t care. They didn’t mind much what happened in the living, on Earth. Was silly to them.

But I had that weight. They were now the crazy ones for not holding me accountable. Never read the Bible but wasn’t there a place for garbage like me?

There wasn’t. For them, I was good to go and was assigned a condo. Yes, a condo. No vast beauty, splendor or wonder. More like a middle-class section of Phoenix. A place arrogant 20-something professionals would rent out as they climbed the ladder of success.

And everyone there was welcoming. Didn’t mind my time in the living. Meh. Life was a silly thing. Even one of my victims was there, without a care in the world. She laughed about it. I’d put my cock in her mouth after I decapitated her.

But the other ones noticed. The ones that were monsters in life, just like me.

Phil caught me on the elevator. Thought I was like him. Someone with a ton of guilt. His was about child rape. When he was alive, it was blissful for him to have sex with a child. Then he was killed by a parent. The only gratitude he had was that parent ended his reign of terror. But his horrors had only just begun.

He knew a little bit more, though

Like Phil and me, you’re thinking what the fuck happened to Hell? As far as Heaven thought, there was no need for it. Why bother? Pishaw!

Phil heard of a place, though. He knew a few more like us. Apparently there was a place. Where people would be punished, long ago. You take the monorail to the end and then a three-day walk through the desert. Maybe some tried to find it but they didn’t know there names. And if they did, they never came back.

A legend. An urban legend.

But I had to try. I needed to take revenge on that horror show I once was.

I left the next day.

You may have noticed that I’ve not mentioned anything about a God. Did ask about that at the pool party in my condo. They didn’t know and didn’t care. No need for leaders, even. Everyone was happy.

The monorail trip was long and the views were...not remarkable. You’d think words could not describe it but they did, with some room left over. Nice and all. Like taking the train through the midwest, I would assume. Never been there.

Finally stopped at a small town. End of the line. Like everything else, can’t really describe with much fanfare this town. Desert surrounded it. I’d eaten at the pool party I mentioned. Hot dogs. There was plenty of food in the ‘fridge in my condo. I’d not been hungry on the train but was then. A diner was half-a-block down. I went there.

Like a Denny’s. Sat down and the waitress came over. Then realized something.

“Uhm, I’m new,” I said. “Am I suppose to pay for food?”

The waitress giggled. “No, you’re fine hon. Order what you’d like.”

You’d think they’d clarify that in the welcome packet I got. But no. So ate and was very good. Thought about the human meat I’d eaten in life and that kind of ruined it for me.”

“What brings you here, hon?” I’d not seen the waitress walk up. I hesitated. Too long. She took a long moment to eye me.

“Oh, you’re a murderer,” but just like you’d say ‘You’re a dentist.’

I felt myself shrug. “It shows?”

“Don’t worry. We don’t mind. Didn’t they tell you that?” With that, she stepped off.

I left the diner. In the distance, saw a checkpoint. No fencing. Just an arm bar and guard box. Good enough place to start.

I left the diner. But this is where we started.

I walked. And walked. And walked some more. Turned for a moment to see the speck of the town and the guard box. Should I just go back, forget about this? Live---live-ish---with what I did?

Wasn’t tired. Wasn’t thirsty.

So I walked on. Up the hill. If “nothing” was in this desert, like the guy said, why was it paved? ‘That shouldn’t be there,” I mused again.

How was I going to find a place in this, much less it even existed. Maybe I’d have some trials. What’d Jesus do in the desert?

I was wrapped up in all that when I ran right into the wall. It hurt. How the fuck does it hurt in Heaven. That should not have been there, either. Just like me.

A brick wall. Huh? I realized it was warehouse-like buildings. How’d I miss this? How’d everyone miss this? “Nothing”? This wasn’t nothing.

I rounded the corner. A big bay door. An abandoned building. As I turned the corner to the entrance, I saw them. Three men.

“Hello,” I said. They were surprised. The inside was more of the same. Abandoned. All three were standing near a switch. Like a big main switch that you’d assume was to turn on the power for the whole building.

“Oh. Another one,” The first said.

“What’s going on?” I asked. I came up to them.

“We think that’s how you turn it on,” another suggested.

“Hell.” The third chimed in. “Just for clarity.”

“How long have y’all been here?” I asked.

“Forty-two years.”

“Sixteen.”

“A hundred and eight.”

Well shit. I thought I was adapting well. But that’s a long fucking time. “And the problem is?”

“We’re afraid what will happen.” The other two nod.

“The whole Devil thing,” another said. “It came from somewhere.”

“He’d hurt a lot of people and shit. In the Bible. Don’t want any more blood on my hands.”

Well shit. That made sense.

“You know, I was a serial killer when I was alive. Killed a hundred and twelve. And to do that, you have to one really selfish prick.” And then I pushed the switch up. All three of them were sure on their toes.

But nothing. Nothing happened. For seconds that seemed much longer. A rumble. Grew louder. The ground shook. Then more violently.

The ground cracked open, fissures belching out a putrid stench of death. And I know the smell of death. Flames boiled out. Burned the hairs in my nose.

Creatures of a mangled sort appeared like spiders and took in their surroundings. A demented heavy metal concert, to say the least.

Then Him. More humanoid than the creatures. Tall. Muscular. Are those---horns? Yes. What you’d think. The cliche of horns on the Devil. And he spotted me. Shit. Maybe it was a bad idea.

Towered over me. In a very dramatic, booming voice, he said, “Was it you who opened the gates of Hell?”

“Uhm. Yeah?”

Then a quizzical look. Confusion from the Devil. “Did you know what you were doing?”

I let that sink in. “Actually yeah. I guess I did. But it’s all very impressive.”

“You are evil. You did much evil in the living.”

“I did, yes.”

A throne fit for the Devil rises and the Devil sat, slouched.

“Why did you do that?”

“I want punishment for what I did.”

Cautious, the other three men came into view.

“Well, I can’t help you,” the Devil answered. “When I was in business, I was sent evil men and women to torture for all eternity for their sins. I never had volunteers. I can’t work that way.”

Well, fuck. I wasn’t expecting that.

“Those assholes in Heaven found a way to relieve them of their evil in the afterlife. After that, I was out of a job.”

“I can assure you,” I said, “they didn’t relieve me of the guilt. I want to be punished for what I did.”

The Devil shrugged. “Meh. I can’t take volunteers.”

We both fell silent for a moment. Then he snapped his fingers.

“Unless you want to the job.”

My eyes widened.

“You have the qualifications, the expertise. Yes, an eternity of punishment can rid all those evil people of their guilt. Their burden. You can bring relief to countless tortured souls.”

I let that sink in. And that’s how I became the Prince of Darkness. Simple as that.

Word got out. And they came. All those who had done evil in the living world, to finally find peace.