I remember it like a distant dream.

After years of school, networking, and countless interviews, I finally landed my dream job. The signing bonus let me repay my parents for all their help, and I even worked up the courage to ask out the cute girl on the train. She said no, but hey, I tried.

Life was finally starting to look up. But I forgot the cardinal rule—life is cruel.

It was the night I received my offer letter. I went out with my friends to celebrate at…What was it called again?

Anyways, it was a dive bar in our neighborhood. We had a bit too much fun, and the night ended with me being carried out on the shoulder of...

Damn, why can't I remember his name? He’s my best friend, why can't I remember his name?

He carried me out into the alleyway, and told me to stay put while he called a driver. I waited there, my head spinning, when I saw somebody approaching from the street. It was dark and I could barely see straight. I thought it was my friend.

I was wrong.

The last thing I remember was the face of a stranger, the glint of a knife, and cold steel piercing my chest. An intense pain jolted through me as I felt the knife twisting in my heart. Then I felt a hand rifle through my pockets. They took a few bills and a train pass.

My senses slowly drifted away. First my sight, then my hearing, and soon, I was left alone in vast and empty darkness, with only the burning pain in my chest to accompany me.

* * *

"Don't panic, Dante."

I gasped. Air rushed into my lungs as if I had just been pulled out of water.

Who said that? Who's "Dante"? Wait, they said "panic". Why would they say that? Should I be panicking?!

"I said not to panic," the voice repeated, sounding annoyed now. "You can open your eyes, by the way."

Eyes? Right. I had those, didn't I?

I forced them open, blinking as the world came into focus. I found myself sitting on the edge of a wooden dock, my feet dipping into an ocean, the cool water brushing gently against my skin.

Skin…I have that, too.

I studied my reflection in the water, poking and prodding at the unfamiliar features. I traced the subtle angle of my jaw, tugged at the scraggly, ashen hair hanging over eyes that were pale and gray, like storm clouds.

It felt unlike me, but also oddly familiar. Like a friend from childhood I hadn't seen in years.

"You'll get used to it," the voice said.

I glanced over to find a girl beside me, squatting like a delinquent, with a toothpick dangling from her lips. "That's your soul's true form, after all."

She didn't seem much younger than me. Her scarlet eyes were angled into a perpetually annoyed expression, her wild, white hair wrangled into a tight bun, and her clothes, a crisp collared shirt and black dress pants that didn't seem to suit her. But strangest of all were the two horns that curled out the back of her head, covered in black scales with an obsidian sheen.

Her eyes suddenly narrowed. "You know it's rude to stare," she said, covering her horns with one hand.

I quickly looked away.

"You've got some weird appendages, too, but you don't see me making a big deal out of it," she added.

Confused, I glanced down and a sudden rush of embarrassment swept over me. I was completely naked.

Amused, the girl clapped her hands and in an instant, a white, long-sleeved shirt and pants materialized on my body.

"The boatsman was supposed to wake you up and give you some clothes. Lazy bastard."

I opened my mouth to ask what she meant, but then it clicked. A boatsman. This girl. There was only one explanation.

"I'm…dead?"

"Bingo." She pointed at herself. "And I'll be your guide to all things post-life. Call me Elara."

I racked my brain, trying to piece together the years that led to this moment, but the details eluded me. There were faces without names, moments without context. Each time I honed in on a memory, it slipped away from me.

"Why is it so hard to remember?" I asked.

"All souls come here cleansed. We rid you of all ties to your previous life. It makes it easier to move on.”

"You take our memories?"

"Don't worry. You're better off without them."

I thought about the life I had left behind. The memories were gone, but the emotions remained. All that work, all that effort to build the life I had dreamed of. The camaraderie and friendship… all of it gone. No. Taken from me.

It was that guy…in the alleyway. He did this.

My hand instinctively moved towards my chest, where the knife had entered. There was no scar, but I felt the lingering sensation of sharp steel. A distant, but ever-present pain.

Then I felt a subtle shift in Elara’s demeanor. Her eyes narrowed, tracking my fingers as they examined the invisible wound in my chest.

“Is something wrong?” I asked.

If there was, Elara didn’t address it. Instead she rose to her feet. "C'mon. Enough wasting time. We've got a lot to get through."

"Where are we going?" I asked, with a hint of apprehension in my voice. I had never really thought about what came after death. Was it Heaven? Or…

Elara smirked. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Without another word, Elara started up the dock. Realizing I had no other options, I pushed myself up. My legs wobbled, unfamiliar and unsteady. It took a moment to regain my balance. Fortunately, the dock seemed to extend forever, disappearing into a thick mist. I couldn't even make out the shoreline.

Elara kept a brisk pace, not slowing down for me at all. Trailing behind, I noticed for the first time a long, serpentine tail extending from the small of her back. It twisted and coiled like it had a mind of its own. The tail seemed to sense my gaze and tapped Elara on the shoulder.

"What did I say about staring?" she said, without turning around.

"Ah…sorry."

"You should count yourself lucky. Only top-ranked demons have such elegant features. It took me centuries to reach this level."

"Demons?" The unease crept back into my voice.

"Relax. Ever since the great war, the lines separating demons and angels are practically nonexistent."

"War?"

Her brow furrowed, annoyed. "Now I understand why the boatsman didn't wake you up. You guys are way too chatty."

I ignored the not-so-subtle hint to shut up and asked, "You called me 'Dante'... But that's not my name, is it?"

Elara's eyebrow curled into a curious arch. "You remember your name?"

I shook my head. "No... But I'm pretty sure nobody called me 'Dante,' either."

Again, I saw a flicker of that inscrutable expression flash across Elara's scarlet eyes. What I said had piqued her interest.

But it vanished as quickly as it came, and her demeanor returned to annoyance. "You were called something different before, but names are just a human invention. The product of ancestry, culture, etymology. But they’re not much use here. Too much overlap. Keeping track of all the John Smiths would be a logistical nightmare. So we give each soul a unique identifier at the moment of its creation.”

“And mine is ‘Dante’?”

“I suppose you could call it your true name,” Elara said. “You’re lucky it’s only two syllables. Some poor souls get stuck with an identifier so long that it takes a couple of minutes to say.”

I said it over and over again, letting it roll off my tongue. "Dante...Dante..." It did feel kind of right. Or maybe "natural" was the better word.

We continued down the dock for what felt like miles until we finally reached its end. But it didn't lead to a beach. Instead, the dock ended at the base of a massive skyscraper that rose out of the ocean like a monolith.

I gazed up at the building in awe. The dark metal structure seemed to pierce the heavens and continue on.

Inside, we were greeted by a security guard seated behind a desk. His nose was buried in the pages of a book. I craned my neck, trying to catch the title—The Aeneid by Virgil.

Elara flashed a badge and with a lazy wave of his hand, the guard let us pass.

I followed her down a long corridor towards an enormous gateway that stretched all the way up to the high ceiling. Elara held her badge up to a scanner on the wall. It beeped, then flashed green.

The massive doors slowly parted with a heavy metallic groan. Suddenly, an intense wave of heat blasted out through the widening gap. All the moisture in my mouth was sucked away in an instant. Beads of sweat formed on my brow, then instantly evaporated.

When the doors fully opened, I saw what lay beyond…a towering pillar of flames, stretching endlessly into the sky and down into the depths of the earth.

"What the hell is that?!" I yelled over the roar of the flames.

Unfazed, Elara gazed up at the blaze with admiration. "We call it The Inferno," she said. "It's the bridge that connects every plane of existence, from the realms of the afterlife all the way to the human world."

Elara stepped towards the flames and my heart sank.

"W-What are you doing. . .?"

"The Inferno will take you to your final resting place," she said in a casual tone.

"Are you kidding me?! I'm not going in there!"

She gave a wry grin. "You'd rather stay here? Hang out on the dock for eternity?"

I swallowed hard. This was all happening too fast.

Seeing the panic in my eyes, Elara softened. "Don't worry," she assured me. "The final resting place for all souls is one of peace and tranquility." Her voice was tender and the words calming.

I took a moment to steel my nerves and calm my shaky breath. Then I stepped towards the gate. The blistering heat hit me like a brick wall. I resisted the urge to pull away and inched closer. Somehow, I found myself standing next to Elara, just a few feet away from the roaring flames.

"Eternity awaits, Dante."

She took my hand, then pulled me into the Inferno.

* * *

The flames raged all around me, but they didn't burn my skin. Instead, a warmth began to spread from within me. A small, tender flame ignited in the center of my chest, growing as if fueled by my own soul. I was becoming a part of the Inferno, my soul melting and fusing with countless others who had been consumed by the fire over the ages.

But then I felt my thoughts pulled back to that final moment—the knife drilling into my chest, my life snatched from me before it had even begun. The gentle warmth in my chest suddenly flared, like I had been stabbed all over again. All my thoughts focused on that one spot. That one memory.

I heard a voice echo in the back of my mind:

"You do not belong here."

The voice surprised me. It sounded like my own, but it had a strange authority. A weight I'd never had.

"It is not your time...Aberrant."

Aberrant? I wondered what that meant, but before I could make sense of the voice’s words, a powerful force pressed against my chest. My body was hurled out of the Inferno with vicious speed. The flames vanished and the world began to spin wildly.

I clutched my eyes shut as I felt the centrifugal force pressing my brain against the inside of my skull. I wanted to scream in pain, but I couldn’t even take a breath.

Suddenly, I felt gravity acting upon my body again. Then I hit the ground. Hard. The impact knocked the wind out of me. Pain shot through my body as I gasped for breath. Groaning, I pushed myself upright and took in my surroundings...

A vast wasteland stretched out into the horizon. Jagged mountains loomed in the distance, with rivers of lava carving their way through the earth. The air was thick with a sulfuric stench that burned my throat. Dark clouds loomed above, crackling with endless lightning strikes.

Elara's words echoed in the back of my mind. "Peace and tranquility," she said.

Bullshit... This is straight up Hell.