Jimi never thought he'd walk again, let alone into Hell.
Yet here he was, standing in front of a gate taller than any building he'd ever seen, surrounded by a stampede of dead souls. Thousands of them. All pushing forward, desperate to enter.
Compared to the rest, Jimi looked dimmer. His soul barely flickered in the crowd, like a phone screen on 1% battery.
And yet… this was better than how he looked on Earth.
He'd died at twenty-eight, a miracle, considering the Progeria he was born with. A sickness that aged him faster than anyone should endure. At fifteen, he looked like someone's grandfather. On the day he finally died, he could've passed for ninety-eight.
So yeah. Standing upright? Being able to walk? That only happened in his dreams.
He stepped forward, trying to blend into the crowd.
But just as he crossed the gate, a glowing message snapped into existence in front of him.
"What now?"
~ Welcome to the Pit of Hell, Jimoh Lawal ~
Location: Outer Hell — 9th Chamber
Anomaly Detected: Soul bears the Key of the Ezda Tree
Physical State: Decayed Soul
Will Level: [5/∞]
Required Will to reach Tree Gate: 2500/∞
Resurrection Eligibility: DENIED
Survival Probability: 12%
Objective: Cross all Chambers to awaken the Ezda Tree.
To proceed, you must accept the Mark of Ezda.
Refusal will result in instant soul consumption and forfeiture of the Key.
Do you accept the trial?
[ ACCEPT ] — [ REFUSE ]
"How about an ignore option as the third, huh?" he sucked his teeth.
Then looked at the message again, thinking out loud.
"If accepting means I'll stay like this… then fine. It has to be better than getting consumed, right?"
He read through the message again, this time with a pensive look on his face, finger resting on his chin, ignoring the sudden chill breeze that brushed past him.
"But this… Key of Ezda." He looked down at himself. Didn't seem like anything important could exist in him. Except... what if it was the very thing making him walk?
"No. I can't lose it. Not until I know what it is. Heck…"
He straightened. "I accept." he said out loud. The silence made him pause. He looked around. The crowd was gone. Just him and that message. The entire plain around him now stretched endlessly.
How long had he been staring at that message?
How hadn't he noticed that many people vanish?
He started to panic.
"Okay...uh...how do we do this?"
"Accepted!" he tried again. Still nothing.
"Take me there!" He said it louder this time, and still, nothing happened. Even though he was the only one left, he somehow felt embarrassed.
Frustrated, he jabbed his finger at the message.
It hit the ACCEPT button.
And just like that, he was sucked under.
***
"Even in death, falling still hurts," he muttered, groaning as he rose slowly, clutching his back.
Up ahead, a line was forming.
"Come on, come on!" a voice barked from a checkpoint booth, where souls were being processed one by one. By the time Jimoh got close, he noticed the thick smoke just past the stand. Every person who passed through vanished the instant the smoke touched them, like it swallowed them whole.
He joined the line, waiting patiently until it was his turn.
The creature at the checkpoint had horns, a short tail, a filthy beard, and a matching attitude.
When Jimi stepped forward, the beast recoiled with a groan.
"Ah! What are ya doing here?" it asked, squinting in disbelief.
"Huh? What do you mean?" Jimi frowned. "I'm here for the trial."
"This trial?" the creature pointed toward the smoke, as if that clarified things.
Is there another one? Jimi glanced around, suddenly unsure. The line behind him shifted, growing uneasy.
"It can't be…" the monster muttered. "Do ya even know where ya are?"
"Chamber Nine. Outer Hell. No?" Jimi answered, remembering the location he had seen on the message.
"Not what the message told you, I mean, do ya really know? This is Hell's Pit! Not a hospital or a food stand!"
Jimi blinked. "I'm well aware."
"Then ya must have come by mistake. This place isn't for souls who can barely walk. Have ya seen yourself? Na, go back. Refuse the trial. Let the pit consume ya. That would be quicker, save ya the torment."
The creature gestured behind him like it was offering a favor.
Jimi just stood there.
Even in death, they still treated him like this.
A monster of all things was pitying him.
But it wasn't the pity that got to him. It was the tone. That dismissive voice. Like it had already decided who he was based on nothing but what it saw.
He clenched his fists.
"I've had it up to here with this bullshit," he snapped, voice rising. "People telling me what I can and can't do just because of the way I look."
The monster fell silent.
Jimi stepped forward.
"Do you know what I've been through? Where I'm from? Who I am?" he demanded, staring the creature down.
The beast couldn't even hold his gaze.
"Exactly. You don't. So how can you stand there, acting like you know I'm not fit for this trial, based on your assumptions?"
The monster just stood there, stunned. Clearly not used to human souls clapping back.
"Look," Jimoh added, his tone softening just a bit. "I appreciate the concern. I really do. But I'm not going to let some ragged-ass, tail-swinging gatekeeper decide my worth."
He raised both hands in a slight prayer gesture.
"I may not look the best. But I made my choice. I'll take the trial. If I die, I die. Unless you've got a real reason to stop me… please. Let me go."
"What's all this noise?" Another voice cut through the tension like a blade.
A second monster approached, taller, and broader.
"What's going on here...ey?"
"This impudent human," the first one spat, "ranting and flailing. Look at him, like all he did on Earth was starve, just so he could come here and eat."
The second creature studied Jimoh for a moment… then turned back to his colleague.
"Can't ya see?" he said calmly. "He bears the Mark of Ezda. Let him through."
The first monster froze, blinking fast, then squinted at Jimoh again like he was finally seeing him properly.
"Oh my… by the roots, how foolish of my! Forgive me! I didn't see it! I had no idea ya were of Ezda!" The creature bowed slightly, stammering. "Please, pardon my harsh tongue!"
Jimoh blinked. He didn't understand what had just happened.What the hell did he see?
He cleared his throat. "Can I go through now?"
"Yes, yes, of course! Please, go ahead!"
"Thank you," Jimoh muttered, stepping past the booth and walking toward the dark smoke.
As he drew closer, he exhaled hard. Sheesh.
"You're a proud one," a voice said behind him, just before a tap landed on his back.
"Let's see how long that lasts."
Jimi spun around.
No one was there.
The voice, whoever it belonged to, had vanished. His skin prickled. He hadn't even entered the smoke yet, and it was already messing with him.
He took a deep breath, steadying himself.
"First time running," he muttered, half to himself, half to whatever was watching.
A small smile crept onto his lips as he leaned forward.Then dashed into the smoke.