The Trial of the Afterlife

NOTE: A dark and satirical joke turned short story. Once upon a time there was a person who sold their soul to the devil and lived a good life, but when the devil came for his soul, he sincerely repented, was taken to heaven, and lived a good afterlife. Then, for good measure, a lawyer joke. Ah, was I ever so young?

He opened his eyes.

At first, there was too much. Too much sound, light, movement — his senses were bombarded from every angle. The pain was immense, rippling through his body like a wave, tickling every nerve ending like sharp tacks. Slowly, the tidal wave receded, leaving him crushed and bruised, as shapes began to emerge. Dancing forms waved in front of him like flames, a harsh hissing skittering through him like flies. Gradually, he began to discern the frightful demons that cackled and roared about him, tongues of flame flipping in and out of their mouths like silverfish, their black claws clacking and clattering around him in the air.

He was dead. He was in Hell.

A sharp snapping noise dragged his horrified attention from the foul display around him, and to a wooden chair facing away from him. There seemed fewer devils surrounding it, so he stepped forward, carefully, and slowly sat down.

In a burst of flame, a diminutive and hunch-backed demon popped out of the air. Its skull like face grinned horribly, and leaned closer, its black leathery wings twitching eagerly. “Kinsthmet!” it shrieked in a voice like whetting knives. “You are to be judged! Are you ready for your trial?”

The words took time to sink in, and when they had, he still didn’t understand them. He decided to say as much.

“My name isn’t Kinsthmet,” he coughed, his voice dry and raspy. “It’s —”

“No mortal names here, please,” the devil snapped. “Your new name is Kinsthmet, and Kinsthmet it shall be! You lost your mortal name when you were found guilty.”

“But the trial hasn’t started yet,” he said, before an avalanche of laughter made him realize how foolish he was being. The devil snapped his claws, and another gout of flame nearly blinded Kinsthmet — the name seemed to fit him now — as the judge arrived.

He was twice as tall as Kinsthmet, and dressed in a fine powder blue three-piece suit. His goatee was neatly trimmed, and curled up towards his long pointed nose, giving his face a crescent-moon like profile. His horns were curled and ram-like, coiling all the way to his shoulders. His skin was scaly and brown, and his red mouth was rimmed with sharp yellow teeth that glittered when he howled to the teaming masses of demons that capered and gallivanted around his legs.

“The Trial is now in session!” the Judge bellowed, and the cheering of Hell echoed in Kinsthmet’s ears. “Has the defendant been advised of his rights?”

The Judges sharp yellow eyes focused on Kinsthmet’s soul, and he felt his words dry up in his lungs. He tried to swallow, but couldn’t. The Judge laughed, his fangs dripping in the bright fire-light that surrounded him.

“I see that he has! Then let the Witness approach!” The Judge raised a claw to the heavens. Suddenly, the hooting demons fell silent, as a soft light filled the air, banishing the deep hateful fire that burned Kinsthmet’s eyes. A gentle note was struck from everywhere, and nowhere, and a wondrous being of shining light descended from the sky. Its skin was a pale blue, and it was covered in a glittering golden bathing gown. It opened its glistening white eyes, looked around, sighed a little, and whipped out an emery board.

The demons exploded with jeering and mocking laughter. Several of them waved their private parts in the air at the angel, who mouthed along disinterestedly with some of the juicier insults. After what seemed like ages, the Judge raised a claw, and the hordes of onlooking devils fell silent.

“Dearly behated, we have come to sit in judgment of this pitiful soul before us, one Kinsthmet. We have studied his life, scrutinized his heart, and poured over his soul, and found him…” the pause was painful, “Damned!”

The cheering erupted again, forcing Kinsthmet to clap his hands over his ears. He could almost feel his fingers hardening and sharpening into claws. The angel rolled its eyes, and switched hands. The Judge laughed, and opened its arms wide to the teeming rolling throng.

“Shall we see?” he called. A massive roar from the crowd. “Shall we look?” Another bellow. “Perhaps a few scenes?” The mob was clawing itself apart. “Then let’s see what we have!”

With a wide sweep of its paws, the Judge turned aside to reveal a massive movie screen, a sickly white light glittering within it. Slowly, a scene began to form from the weathered canvas, Kinsthmet when he was young and mortal. Before three seconds had passed, Kinsthmet knew what day it was. He tried to close his eyes and turn away from the horror he knew was coming, but he could not. He had thought that it was a game — just a piece of paper and a chance to play with fire. He watched himself write the words on the paper and burn the page over a lit candle, stumbling over the bizarre Latin.

He had sold his soul when he was ten for happiness and prosperity.

The movie flickered, and shifted. Now it was a year later, and he was forced to watch himself throwing rocks with his friends at the boy who lived down the street. It passed exactly how he remembered it. The rocks cutting deep into the boy’s flesh, the tears and pleas for mercy drowned out by uncaring jeers. And then came the other scenes. Wanton cruelty to the homeless; a car accident that left the other driver paralyzed from the legs down, and a generous contribution that prevented any chance of conviction; a collection of good business decisions that left hundreds without jobs, and eventually hope. All of which resulted in Kinsthmet becoming very wealthy indeed.

The scenes were heartless. After the willful acts were finished, new scenes of carelessness danced to the surface. Seemingly harmless acts that caused unimagined pain and hardship to people Kinsthmet had never seen before. A picking up of a twenty dollar bill that never made it to a poor man’s pocket, or a long and polite conversation with an acquaintance that made them late for their train. If only Kinsthmet had opened his eyes, how much pain could have been averted, but he had remained blissfully unaware.

But it was not enough. After what seemed like years of wanton carelessness, Kinsthmet’s ignorance was laid bare. Millions of pounds of garbage thrown into towering landfills, thousands of animals slain and eaten, and hundreds of potential friendships ignored, or worse, forgotten about. How much suffering was there in the world that Kinsthmet had contributed to in his foolish shortsightedness.

Then still came more. Now it was a new day — one of thousands just like it. An average day in Kinsthmet’s life, full of daily routine and casual humanity. Only now, instead of the rote and commonplace behavior, the movie screen laid bare the sins rife in every movement — the rotting wickedness that filled Kinsthmet’s living hours.

The picture was crystal clear. Kinsthmet had dealt with the Devil and had grown fat and wealthy before he died, all at the detriment of the planet and his fellow man. He was a fool who did not care for others, and perhaps most damning, Kinsthmet was human and bore the foul corruption birthed from his species sin, ingrained in him like his DNA. Kinsthmet’s head sank into his hands.

“Well?” The Judge scratched at his goatee with a single claw. “Does the defendant have anything to say?”

Kinsthmet’s head lifted. What was there to say? What could mitigate a life full of such diabolical sin? He felt his soul crumple and shrivel in guilt. Wiping his brimming eyes with the back of his hand, he opened his mouth.

“I lived a life full of joy. There were times I knew I was doing wrong, but I didn’t think it would matter. I sold my soul when I was ten, and have been doing the Devil’s work ever since. I lived a life of pleasure, and wanted for nothing. I could have given of myself to my fellow man, but I never spared a thought for them. I am a wretched soul, and though I know I am forsaken, I weep for the suffering I caused, and truly repent my sins.”

Silence settled over the court. Calmly, the angel put away the emery board and floated to Kinsthmet’s side.

“Oh no you don’t!” the Judge snapped, stepping forward. “You saw all the things he did! He’s a sinner! He deserves to be down here!”

“He repented,” the angel shrugged. “He accepted the Lord into his heart.”

“It’s unfair!” the Judge growled, his fangs lengthening into cruel blades. “Cruel in life, and rewarded in death because now he’s sorry? When he sees the consequences of his actions?”

“Read the Bible,” the angel sighed.

“Which one?” the Judge retorted. The angel rolled its eyes, and pinched the bridge of its nose.

“I don’t make the rules,” it said, gripping Kinsthmet by the shoulder. “You don’t like it, you’re free to file a complaint.” With a twanging sound, like a snapped harp string, both the angel and Kinsthmet vanished.

The Judge stared at the empty space for several seconds, hate boiling in his heart, before he dismissed the whole situation with a wave of his hand. The demonic audience vanished, scuttling off to their own devices, while the Judge stared at the canvas screen. Sighing, he began to pull it down, and collect his things as he muttered to himself.

“File a complaint,” he grumbled, his deep voice echoing through Hell. “Of course I could file a complaint — and be ignored for half an eternity. Damn loopholes. We haven’t had a good solid kangaroo court in centuries. I swear, if there were any justice, I’d get at least ninety-nine percent of the souls in the world when they died…but no, I don’t make the rules, do I? Damn lawyers…”