An atheist died today. How or why isn’t important. What happened after he died, is very important.
God has a sense of humor. Look at the platypus or armadillo if you don’t agree. But in a situation like this, when someone who doesn’t believe He exists, dies, there is no laughter. Only sadness, anguish, torment. What if God let the atheist sit in darkness for 15-20 minutes. To sort of give him a false sense that what he believed all his life was true. That after we die, there’s nothing. Only darkness.
After a few minutes his eyes begin to adjust to the dark. Featureless faces appear, close enough to touch. Then, without warning, out of the darkness, a hideous sight. Contorted, roaring, evil creatures come into focus.
Boney hands grab at him. He hears people sobbing, screaming, and the heat intensifies as his escorts pull him forward. His eyes, wide and terror filled, dart in all directions. Wait…the men dressed in white. They’ve come to save him. “Help,” he cries, reaching out to touch one. But his hand is pushed away. “It’s too late,” the man says.
His back arches as his flailing arms strike at those who clutch him. They squeal with glee, dragging him forward. He realizes he is naked. His flesh, burning, dangles from his body. “What’s that sound?” A roaring inferno. The screaming grows louder. Panting, his fists pull at his hair. Nausea overwhelms him as the smell of sulfur, blistering his throat, causes him to wretch violently.
The question that’s haunted him all his life, buried deep in the recesses of his mind, forces its way to the surface. “What if there is a …?” Closing his eyes tightly, head moving violently from side to side, he realizes his question is answered. “There is…”
The huge iron door, glowing violet hot, opens and his convoy, grabbing at his throat, are relentless as they push him toward the flames. Clutching the door, he screams as the heat sears his hands.
“No!!! God save me,” he pleads.
Too late.
The men in white, tears flowing down their cheeks, disappear into the darkness as the massive door slams shut.
The Chronicles of Egydyus Flombosi 