Lilacs and sunflowers waved at the edges of my sight, framing a perfect, cheerful sky. I pushed up onto my elbows. I was on a slight rise, and the gorgeous expanse of purple and yellow stretched deep to the horizon.
“Welcome to hell,” said someone.
I swiveled on my butt. A great, crinkled boulder blinked back me. A pair of vines flopped at its side, one appeared wrapped around a book. The eyes were uneven and bulbous, and a gaping crack along the base seemed to be a mouth.
“Pardon me?” I said.
“Welcome to hell,” it repeated. “Mister Louie Tant, yes?”
“Yes? Hell? What?” The last thing I remembered a squishy leather couch, the TV playing infomercials on mute, Robin and Garth making out in the love seat, and big empty bowl of chips on my belly.
“Hell!” said the rock-monster. “You know it right? Oh, don’t tell me they don’t do hell in your planar reality.”
“Am I dead?” I better not be dead. I had finals in two weeks.
“You’re Louie Tant.”
“I… okay this is all very confusing.” I got up and looked at my hands, squeezed them into fists. It all felt real, then I remembered dreams. This was a dream! Usually that realization snapped me right out of it. I waited, but nothing happened. The monster regarded me.
“Confusion is common, I believe. It’s supposed to be disorienting,” it said.
“This doesn’t seem like hell,” I said, now wondering if Garth had spiked my joint with anything. It wasn’t his style, but sometimes you could buy a bad batch.
“It doesn’t? Why not? I followed specifications to the T.” The monster raised the book up with its vine and wiggled it at me.
“I’d always heard there was a lot more fire, and suffering, and you know… uh,” I said. A gentle breeze wafted in, and some butterflies danced with it.
“Fire?” The boulder now rifled through the book, its eyes darting, brow wrinkling. Little crumbling landslides of dirt crunched off it.
“Yeah, what’re you, new?” I said, pinching at that tender spot on the backside of my bicep. It hurt. I did not wake up. Could I legitimately be dead?
“Listen Mr. Tant, I may be an intern here but I will be treated with respect. I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation here somewhere.” The pages flapped and fluttered.
“Intern? What are you an intern at?”
“Department of Human Trafficking, Third Circle of Hell, Tower of the Freezing Mists,” it said.
“Human trafficking… look man, I don’t— I never participated in any shit like that, alright? I’m a freakin’ freshman at UNC, studying chemistry. Like, where would I, there’s gotta be some kind of mistake.”
“Now you’re confusing me, Mr. Tant. Why would you be participating in human trafficking? That’s my job.”
“What? I… look, can I uh, maybe speak to a supervisor? There’s been a serious mix up, I feel.”
The monster open its mouth to reply, but at that moment there was a great purple flash, followed by the smell of sulphur, like someone lit a match then blew it out.
“What is the meaning of this?” cried a new voice.
“Oh, oh dear,” said the rock.
A host of green floating orbs emerged from a tall gathering of sunflowers. They dripped something evil and toxic. I backed up a step, looking between the monsters.
“Well?” said the orbs. They pulsed as one as they spoke.
“Hy’Tqluuui-nok, s-sir. I was just processing this human,” said the rock.
“Processing? On what authority?” said the orbs, whom I presumed were Hy’Tqluuui-nok.
“I, thought… I thought you could—”
“Silence! Had you bothered to attend orientation instead of futzing around, you might’ve actually learned something. What do you suppose human trafficking even means?”
The rock blinked, its mouth hung open.
I ventured a tiny step forward. “It, uh, isn’t it like slavery and like, literally trading people?” I said.
“You see? Even this inconsequential speck of a soul knows what’s what,” cried the orbs.
“It’s huge issue,” I continued. “Really terrible, evil stuff. The things they do are just…”
“Thank you,” said the orbs. “We run a tight ship of misery and horror. Usually.”
The rock shrank back, perhaps trying to make itself seem smaller, which was tough because it was a rock.
“So can I like, maybe head back? Leave you two to it? Or…?” I said.
“Right. Yes. Of course,” said the orbs. “What mortal sins are you checked in for?”
“Well, none I hope. I don’t think I’m even dead. He… it said this was hell?”
The orbs sighed, deflating a little. “Technically correct. Not all the right presentation, obviously. Look at this place.”
“Yeah,” I said.
“And you’ve not even crossed the mortal sheen?” The orbs spun, pivoting towards the hapless intern. “Do you understand how much paperwork this is going to be? The Department of Nightmares is going to be chirping us for weeks.”
“I-I’m sorry,” said the rock monster.
“We shall return you, Mister…?” said the orbs, now ignoring the rock, which was now quivering.
“Louie. Louie Tant,” I said.
“Mister Tant. My deepest apologies. This was a terrible error on our part and I will work to correct it immediately. Unfortunately, you will have to run a level seven nightmare in order to fully scramble your memory of any of this having happened, you understand. I expect minimal to moderate psychological torment upon your eventual return.”
“Sure, yeah, thanks. Uh, what’s that again about moderate psychological torment?”
But the orbs were gone. There was nothing, not even flowers, no breeze… nothing. I turned, blinking, making sure my eyes were open. They felt open. Where was I? Where were Garth and Robin? I stuck my hands out, trying to feel for something, anything.
Then, in the distance, a tiny yellow light. I ran for it, and it grew. I soon realized what it was. A single sunflower, hanging there in the gloom.
As I reached for it, two fiery eyes opened to my left. And then a dripping, sinister voice.
“Welcome to hell.”
by Jordan Castle