Welcome, Andreas. You’re Over There Next To Gameel Al-Batouti And Mohamed Atta. Flash Fiction Tuesday.

Andreas blinked and then twitched as the white-hot nails were driven into his skull. Shrieking in agony he said, “Wait, I just committed suicide. I don’t belong here!”

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The team of demons kept hammering nails into his skull and privates, taking a moment to laugh at him. The lead demon, who had a clipboard and was calling for the razor team, gave a leer. “You idiot. Suicide’s don’t always wind up here, most are forgiven and given a place in that boring Romper Room up above. But special guys like you – well, we have a room just for you!”

Andreas moaned as the razor team started to work on the back of his legs. Every slice of the razor was followed with a spritz of lemon juice mixed with alcohol. Not enough to overload the nerves, but enough to make them jangle and bounce as though they might explode from his skin. Another demon had a test kit with him and was touching two of the nails protruding from his skin to pass a current. The skin around the nails sizzled a little and then healed. Both processes were exquisitely agonizing.

“But I was a suicide. Why would I wind up here?”

The demon in charge ignored him and motioned the hammer team in. They proceeded to break all of the small bones in Andreas’ body. They were very good, obviously having studied anatomy at some medical school. Abortionists who’s practices had required a medical license on Earth had a new home with new responsibilities in Hell. Seemed like a good fit given their outstanding performance.

Once the hammering was complete he responded, “If you commit suicide, you get a pass. It’s usually the the result of depression or some insanity that causes you to lose touch with God. But you, my little pigeon, you chose to fly an airliner full of people into the Alps. You didn’t commit suicide, you murdered over 150 people. Same thing with that idiot Atta and his buddy Al-Batouti over in the corner.”

Andreas looked in the direction the demon had pointed. There was a pillar of flame burning slowly. Looking more closely, he recognized the 911 hijacker and the co-pilot of the Egypt Air flight. They burned but were not consumed. This was not looking good.

“We also have some special idiots in there that you will get to know over the next few millennia. We have a woman who tried to kill herself with natural gas fumes. She did a nice job. But the pipe she opened up filled the apartment building she lived in at five in the morning, and blew it to bits. Forty dead and another 200 burned. She’s got the chains next to Larry. He worked in a munitions plant in Texas and blew himself up on purpose. Took over thirty of his coworkers with him. He gets to repeat that moment thirty times a day. Oopsie.”

Andreas saw the future: there was none. But there was an eternity of torment stretching out ahead of him.

“We’ll start you off where you might find some friends. Well, fellow Germans anyway. We have a whole wing where the new people go through indoctrination. You’ve been assigned to Hitler, Himmler, and Goebbels unit for indoctrination. After a few months of that we’ll see where you go.”

“But, I’m not a NAZI! I don’t believe in that stuff.”

The demon pointed to a bunker door in the far wall. “Doesn’t matter what you believe in, Andreas; your deeds determine your company down here.”

Andreas saw Martin Bormann motioning to him. Trotting over was out of the question with all the broken toes but he went as quickly as he could.

“Wilkommen, Andreas. First item, we delouse you and give you a shower. Step right in here…”

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Welcome, Andreas. You’re Over There Next To Gameel Al-Batouti And Mohamed Atta. Flash Fiction Tuesday. — 1 Comment