Short story – “A Sealed Fate”

 

“A Sealed Fate”

A bored young man wearing only a T-shirt reading “Bank robber” stood in a space just big enough for two people.  The ceiling – while not so low as to make him stoop – was uncomfortably low and the walls were painted in the blandest beige imaginable.  The only other thing currently in the room was a counter high on the wall he faced quickly approaching zero.

When the counter hit 0:00, several things happened at once.  A folded T-shirt appeared in the man’s right hand, a door appeared below the counter, and the counter reset to 5:00 and began counting down.  But the main thing that happened was a bright flash of reddish light deposited a naked, older woman in the space.

In a monotone, the man began, “You died and were-”

The woman screamed and slapped him.  “What have you done to me?  Where am I?” She turned around, and realized she was naked.  She tried to cover herself while screaming and punching the man.

After about a minute of silently taking her punches, he suddenly yelled, “Shut up!”

This stunned the woman and she backed up, as far as she could.

The man then explained, “I did nothing to you.  You died and were sent to Hell.”

The woman started to argue, but stopped herself.  Shaking her head, she said, “No, no.  I don’t belong in Hell.  I should be in Heaven.”

“Sure.  Anyway,” handing her the shirt, the man continued, “everyone gets a shirt that explains why they are here in Hell.  It’s not the main reason, but a big one.  For example, I hated the idea of a 9 to 5, so I decided I’d rob a bank to make easy money.  Only I got shot and ended up here where I’ll spend the next few thousand years welcoming people to Hell and giving them a shirt.  So take your shirt Miss,” here he unfolded her shirt and read “‘Trump supporter, even after he went full fascist,’ and go through that door to your eternal damnation.  And hurry up, because,” here he pointed at the counter reading 3:13, “when that hits zero, another person will be transported in, even if you’re still here.  And that sucks.”

The woman reluctantly took the shirt.  Shaking her head, she said, “No.  It shouldn’t be like this.  These aren’t Pearly Gates, and you’re no Saint Peter.”

The man sighed.  “Having died in 1973, I don’t know who this Trump is, but apparently, he’s a fascist.  And if you supported him, then you are to.  And you wonder why you ended up in Hell?  Why would Saint Peter waste his time on someone who’s fate is already sealed?”

The woman thought for a moment, then said, “No.  I refuse-”

“Just go through the fucking door you bitch,” the man yelled.  “Find out what Hell has in store for a fascist, and give me a minute’s peace.”