"Hell's Gates, this is Anubis speaking."

"Hey, A! It'sth Peter."

"Oh hey, Pete! What's going on."

"Tho we got a weird thituation up here. We got a guy, a really good guy, lived a noble life and everything, thaying he doethn't belong in heaven. Not like 'I'm not thuppothed to be dead,' but like 'I don't wanna be in heaven.'"

"Oh, that's different. Is he asking for hell?"

"No not really... Lithen, I'm really buthy right now. Can I just thend you the file and the guy?"

"Yeah sure, Pete. I'm not busy at all."

"Ok great I'll thend them over.

"Pete, that was sarca.... Oh, he hung up..."

A few minutes later

"So you must be Eddie. I'm Anubis, nice to meet you. So, tell me about your problem."

"Yeah, so it's like that other guy said, you know the one with the lisp?"

"You mean Thaint Peter?"

"Haha, yeah that's the guy. I just don't think I want to go to heaven."

"Well, your file says you've lived an exemplary life. Special Ed teacher for 20 years? Started an organization for underrepresented Latinos? And that's just a smidge of your overall accomplishments. You definitely qualify for heaven, you even get to skip the line. Why don't you want to go?"

"Yeah, well, it sounds kind of boring, to be honest with you. The Bible says when you go to heaven you "get" to sing praise to God for the rest of eternity. I hate singing. I'm not even good at it."

"That's the Christian bible. Perhaps it got parts right but maybe it got heaven wrong? Personally, I've never been so I don't know for sure. Hell, for all we know, it could be like that Norse place."

"Isn't Valhalla in hell, though?"

"Um okay it's not like Valhalla."

"Plus, what if I want to, like, do something raunchy?"

"Er, like what?"

"Have sex? Masterbate? Play with my dick?"

"Oh, no worries there, those things don't go to heaven."

"MY DICK WON'T GO TO HEAVEN?? Alright, I'm definitely not going. Would my dick go to hell?"

"Purgatory, I think."

Well, can I play with my dick in purgatory? Are there women in purgatory?"

"At the moment."

"Sooo can I go to purgatory?"

"Well, I mean I guess so. It's just that purgatory is more like a queue than an actual place. At a certain point, the queue leads back to me or Peter. So at a certain point, we would have to do this again."

"Fine by me! Send me and my penis to purgatory!"

"Ooookay... See you in about 100 years. Goddamn, that prude, Pete, always sends me the weird ones."

    Enar pulled his sweater tight to block the chill of the interrogation room with its drab, lifeless metal chairs and table. The thermostat read 107° F. They were trying to save on heating bills again and he wished they would move the room closer to the fiery inferno in the center of hell.

    The door buzzed and clicked open. In strode a young woman. Enar put on his reading glasses and inspected a file containing the her profile.

    "Marla Ensrude, 27, car accident...firefighter?" Enar looked over the top of his glasses at Marla.

    "Kind of ironic isn't it, a firefighter sent to hell," she said.

    "Not yet. Why do you think you should be here?" Enar read her file a little further. Stable relationship with a boyfriend, they adopt stray cats, she calls her mom four times a week.

    "Oh, but you've already said it," she said with a smile. Enar cocked his head and looked at her. Marla leaned over and pointed at the "Firefighter" on her profile.

    Sirens wailed outside the interrogation room, the screech forced Enar to cover his ears. The sirens hadn't gone off for over a thousand years. The door burst open and in stomped a man wearing a firefighters jacket and hat, carrying a fire hose. He tossed it to Marla.

    She pulled back the lever on the hose. Water exploded in a powerful jet and scoured Enar with cold water, extinguishing his eternal flame. "Surprise."

I sighed, my back aching in protest as I got up, my leather black wings stretching themselves as much as they could before I plopped back down. Talons curving around the telephone, I wondered why I'd signed up for this job.

"Hello, welcome to Hell's Soul Complaints department. How may I help you?" I chirped. It isn't easy, you know? 666 times per day people storm into my office, hurling insults and demanding I check the registry. How could they be in Hell? They were so pure and so utterly good.

Well, they weren't. Sorry buddy, but registries don't lie...most of the time. I'm pretty sure some guy filed a lawsuit a few years back over being sent to Hell in place of his twin brother, who shared the exact same genetics, mental state, and soul taste.

The demon in charge of that little debacle got a huge, public spewing-out by Michael or something, but what do those goody two-wings know?

Oh, right, back to the story.

I realized the person on the other end hadn't said anything yet, which annoyed me. I wondered if it was some kind of prank-call, then I realized I'd set the telephone on mute by accident (don't ask me how. I do not know).

It'd felt good while it lasted.

"Uh, hello?" the voice on the phone said, apparently for the third time. My heart sank when I heard that voice. So lost, alone, and utterly broken. Like a whole orchestra of dissonant chords, it broke me faster than anything could. I felt the tears beginning to build, but I steeled my nerves.

"Karen, I'm well aware of your situation, believe me. I know it's been a few years, but I promise you, we're still searching for Parry the Parrot. Don't worry, okay? The angels are still on the lookout for him in heaven."

Yes, I rehearsed for this. I knew she'd come back for me one day. I knew it.

"Um-"

I kept talking.

"We know you're upset. Many people come here wondering where their animals are. They are often lost, scared, and confused when they first arrive, and as such angels often take pity on them. He's still soaring out there in heaven somewhere, but I promise you, we will return him to hell by your side."

"Hey-" the voice began, but I interrupted her again.

"There, there," I said in a soothing voice, "there's no need to cry. Your pet will suffer with you once more, I swear on the river Styx. We will find him Karen-"

"Okay, who's Karen?!" the voice shouted, clearly annoyed. I realized my mistake.

"I-"

I have never wanted to disappear before. Sounds boring. But right then, I would've given anything for the treacherous caverns of hell to swallow me whole. Even if the brimstone air conditioners aren't as hot as normal.

"My name's Wanda," the voice said, "and I'm calling you from Paradise. There's been a mix-up, I think."

My brows furrowed. A mix-up?

"Uh, yeah, sorry but those really don't happen-"

"You literally just said a parrot had a mix-up with heaven-"

"And you believed me?" I asked. An awkward silence hung in the air for a good few seconds after I said that. Oh, and yeah, just so you know, animals don't go to hell. When they die, they go straight to Paradise. Yeah, sad, I know. Poor Karen.

"Fair enough," the voice relented. "But I need to go to Hell, okay? I was a witch and stuff, so why am I here?"

I exhaled calmly. Just a curious soul. Nothing bad. They just wanted answers. I respected that.

"Well, that was a sin before the Angelic Wars, but not anymore. Don't worry, this isn't some sneak preview of Paradise you'll get before being dragged down to Hell. If you're up there, that's permanent. So don't worry your little head. Just get in the hot tub and enjoy how your afterlife turned out! I hear the scones are pretty good too."

I prepared to hang up.

"No! I-I need to go to Hell, please," the voice pleaded, an urgency in its tone. I stared at the phone in shock. Now, I've gotten weird calls before. Normally it's drunk prank calls from heaven, or a necromancer trying to make contact (I swear, there is literally no point in having an oracle around. It was supposed to be able to take any calls from the earth, but apparently, it's just an office decoration. I'm pretty sure most of us have forgotten it exists).

But a soul in Paradise asking to be rerouted to Hell isn't something any demon can really brag about.

"I'm sorry...what?" was the first thing I said after that.

"I need to go to Hell. It's personal. Please," the voice begged once more. "Just for a few seconds."

"No."

"W-what?"

"I can't send you to Hell darling. I'm a low-rank demon being paid minimum wage. I haven't even seen Heaven, let alone possessed the power to open a portal all the way up there. Sorry, but-"

"What's your name?" the voice demanded. I blinked.

"Um."

"Um? Okay, Um," the voice sneered, "you won't send me to Hell? I'll bring Hell to you, just you wait-"

I hung up after that.

Part 1 of 2 - Tomas & St Peter

"It was close since you never accepted Jesus as your Lord and savior, but you lived well and did little intentional harm. You helped your neighbors and were a productive worker helping your community. I can't judge you as a parent, but welcome to Heaven." St Peter said in a surprisingly animated voice.

Tomas was surprised St Peter cared so much. After however many billion souls, he'd probably just hand everybody a card to read. But that was just his idle thoughts, instead he was focused on getting into Heaven. For an atheist, that was an unexpected accomplishment.

"So, is it like the Christians said? Eternal happiness, everything you could want?"

"Yes, it is a place of peace and harmony without suffering."

Tomas clapped his hands in excitement. If he could just eat decent food, watch good shows, visit cool places, and smoke a little weed with his friends while they did it, "This is what I always dreamed of. Life is suffering enough so we might as well make it as good as possible. But since this is the afterlife y'all did it even better."

"It is as Yahweh promised, He rewards those who honor him in deed and act during the course of their lives. Meanwhile, Hell is quite like Earth without His mercy, but worse for those who bring light are shpeherded here."

Tomas nodded, he'd never act on the thought, but the world would be better off if some people had a fortunate accident. "Yep, that's why we never could make things good. Some opportunist always saw an opportunity off the brilliance and good intentions of others."

St. Peter nodded sagely, "And do you have any questions before you go?" With a flick of his wrist, the pearly gates manifested, but did not open.

Tomas almost shook his head, but decided to make sure. It was one of those questions that'd caused him to turn atheist in the first place. "So if heaven is a place of serenity and Hell is that of suffering, and it's likely at least one of my friends will get sent to Hell, how can I be serene knowing my friend is in pain?"

Either they inended to wipe his personality, his memories, or it was not in fact so perfect a place. No other explanation made sense.

"Serenity is being present in the moment. Beyond the gates is a place of such Grace, you couldn't possibly worry about that which is lost."

"Them." Tomas said reflexively. Then got annoyed and anxious, correcting St Peter seemed foolish, but it reminded him of what Megan went thru before she could pass. 'And slavery' he thought after.

"As I recall, them is for a group of people, not Hellspawn." St Peter said sharply before continuing as before, "But I didn't mean to upset you. Actually, if you look at the texts, the Lord doesn't express his opinion either way. You people made it a sin all on your own."

"Well what you said about LGB people didn't help."

St Peter chuckled, "I'm used to having this argument with atheists I send to Hell, but not ones that are approved on merit. But no matter, have you managed to translate the Dead Sea Scrolls properly? No. And that's what the Lord had to say about that."

Tomas noticed that St Peter didn't actually specify God's opinion. 'Maybe it was like trans people?' But he decided not to press the issue. Instead choosing to ask about entertainment, "So, do you just have the movies and games made to now or do you have the ones that'll be made in the future.

"Uhmmm.... noooo." St Peter said slowly but not sarcastically. It was like he found the question itself confusing.

"I mean, can I play some videogame made in 2045 now or do I have to wait 22yrs?"

"I thought I explained this when you asked about your friends."

'Friends?' Tomas thought, he wasn't surprised, but it hurt to hear he'd lose more than one. "Nope, we definitely didn't cover future stuff."

"I mean, why would you need movies and games from the living when you are serene?"

Tomas laughed nervously, this was starting to sound like it'd get boring before eternity. "Then y'all must have some fire."

"Fire and brimstone is Hell's thing." St Peter joked.

"But seriously, what is perfect weed like? If I'm going to be serene without ente-"

"There are no drugs in Heaven. You won't ever have the need or desire for caffeine, cannabis, tobacco, sugar, or any other mortal vice."

Tomas stared. St Peter seemed expectant, as if he would be excited to never do drugs or finally play Half Life 3. Tomas stared so St Peter cleared his throat and continued, "You will be free of that. What do you say. Are you ready to be at peace?"

"So, did you say Hell was basically Earth 2.0 instead of torture and red horned sadists?"

"Naturally, how would he tempt the corruptable if he made it awful? There's suffering and pain, but he finds way to make a poor parody of the Lord's mercy."

"And what is this Lord's mercy you keep saying?"

"It is freedom from pain and the gift of boundless love and joy."

"While my friend's get high, go to cool places, and play games that don't even exist yet? Honestly, I think you got the wrong guy. Send me there."

"Excelle..." his enthusiastic words trailed off and his fingers ready to snap merely twitched. "You mean there?" he asked gesturing to the gates.

Tomas shook his head, "You know which I meant."

"You cannot be serious, nobody chooses to go there. Only the damned go there."

"Damn it all to Hell, You damned well better not send me thru that damned gate. Please send me to where I can at least have fun."

"But why?"

"I don't really believe propaganda. Well... I probably did, but not that obvious shit like Hell is pure evil and Satan tempts for pure evil."

"He does. When the Lord and he worked together, there was perfect serenity. Such total harmony, but then there was the big fight and they left so explosively. It was his greed and avarice, his opportunism as you put it. He is the cause of suffering. Why does God not pay taxes for his mistake? Because he is focused on sorting and reuniting to end the suffering altogher!" St Peter kept talking faster and louder until he was shouting.

"Woah, woah, it's alright. But you can't be so cruel as to condemn me to an eternity I do not want."

"You are but a child before his wisdom. Children do not make decisions as important as these. So come along."

St Peter stood up and walked to the right side of the gate, just before the marble steps. When he turned around, Tomas hadn't moved. And he didn't to, Tomas was going to treat this guy like the peacekeeper he was. "I do not consent."

"Like I said, this is not your decision to make so come here." St Peter commanded in a way that demanded instant obedience.

It reminded him of his second grade teacher, and he hated her too. "I don't mean to pull a Karen, but you might as well check with your supervisor. If you do it, you're basically abducting me, didn't Deuteronomy have something about that."

"Dead Sea Scrolls, I already told you, that doesn't have Deuteronomy." St Peter put his hand hand over his face and groaned. "You realize who my suoervisor is right? You seriously intend to be this trounlesome?"

r/AurumArgenteus

(Obligatory on mobile disclaimer)

"I see I have Mrs. Johannesburg here, did I read that correctly?" I ask as I adjust my pointlessly thin glasses on the bridge of my snout. Unsurprisingly, the benefits for this job suck ass.

"Yes sir, one of the only people... Err, creatures to ever do so," the elderly woman says with a soft chuckle as she sits on the rickety wooden stool placed in front of my desk.

I skim her file one more time before shutting it with a sigh. I don't get paid enough for this.

"Mrs. Johannesburg, you've lived an exemplary life! Single mother for 20 years, a loving grandmother, devote christian your entire life... You even defended a mosque from bigotry! Not to mention decades of volunteer work and fundraising. Ma'am if I might be so bold, you absolutely deserve to be in heaven."

"Oh yes dearie, I'm aware."

I gawk at her for a moment before I can regain my composure.

"Then why the hell did you want to be transferred here? You know this is the "bad" place, right?"

Mrs. Johannesburg laughs softly again. Her calm demeanor flashes briefly into something more sinister, but it's gone far too quickly for me to analyze anything. When she meets my gaze, her mouth is twisted into a sickly sweet smile. Her eyes, though... they look flat, empty, and dark, a look only the most heartless of demons can muster. I inadvertently shudder.

There is residual laughter in her voice as she answers, "Every Sunday for as long as I can remember, people have been trying to sell the idea of heaven to me. They said if I was a good girl and I did everything right, that one day I'd get to live in paradise with my late husband, but when I got there I was told he'd been sent here. Well mister, I've been nothing but good, and I want the paradise that was promised to me."

Ahh, so that's what it is...

"I understand that this must be hard for you, but unfortunately there's nothing I can do. If he was sent here, I don't have the authority to reverse tha-"

Mrs. Johannesburg's peal of wicked laughter stops me cold. It's the kind of laugh with no humor, just pure unadulterated malice.

"Oh no sir, you misunderstood me! The night he died that man ran out on me, and I promised him that should we ever meet again, I'd make his life a living hell. Since I never got my opportunity in life, I'd like to follow through with my threat in his afterlife."

Damn... These are the types that get slotted for the pearly gates? I guess the big G doesn't care about intent after all. I shrug, pick up my landline, and put in Satan's extension.

"Hey boss... Yea sorry, but I have a weird one for ya... Can we allow saints in here to torture people?... Oh, we can!? Oh well, that's great I'll let her know!"

I run my hand over the smooth scales on my scalp and give Mrs. Johannesburg a sheepish smile. "So I guess you're not the first to ask! Could've fooled me! Ahahaha! You just need an escort on your first trip through the rings. Satan said he's sending a personal friend, Saint Olga of Kiev, to come guide you. You can wait at the benches at the end of the hall. I hope you enjoy you stay!"

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