Free A Short Stay in Hell by Steven L. Peck Page A

would find rather unpleasant. The great thing is, every
day we get to start fresh. We have people we’ve tortured for over a
year. Great sinners, of course. They deserve it. It’s God’s great
work.”
    I stared at him like he was a madman.
    “You’ll get used to it. Their screams, I
mean. It’s all God’s work.”
    He looked uncomfortable for a moment then
turned away. He stood in silence for a minute and then turned to me
again.
    “Let’s go.”
    He led me to a stairway. I was seated on one
of the steps that led upward with about four other men. I had not
seen any women yet, but I’d heard some Direites were women. Not
many, but a few.
    A man came in and stood in front of us, his
back to the hallway. He looked no different than any of us, with
the same haircut and clothes we all had. I could not tell if he was
a prisoner or a captor until he proclaimed, “I am Dire Dan.”
    My blood ran cold. My stomach lurched into my
throat, and I felt as if I were choking. Here was the man who had
caused years of pain and suffering to thousands. Here was the man
who had forced Rachel into the chasm. Here in front of me, only a
few feet away, was the man of my worst nightmares. My fists
clenched, as rage boiled inside me.
    “Listen to my words and be saved from this
place. Ignore me and you will suffer beyond anything you thought
possible. I am God’s mace. I am his calipers, his judgment …”
    I will not sicken you with all his words. He
was arrogant, full of his own importance. He could speak of nothing
but his glory in the world to come. It was mad. Was madness
possible here? Apparently.
    When he finished he said, smiling, “Here is
the decision you must make. You can join us and inflict pain and
suffering, or …” and he let the moment hang, “you can be one of
those upon whom suffering is inflicted.
    “If you do join us, you will be assigned a
client, someone who has refused the offer you now receive. To your
charge you must make this place a Hell to the fullest ability of
your pathetic power. You must convince me you have made this sinner
suffer to the greatest extent of your abilities. Don’t worry, you
will be trained …”
    He droned on, but behind him the two guards
standing beside him left for a moment. From the stairs on which I
was sitting, I could hear screaming in the hall, and the two guards
bracketing Dire Dan had first turned to watch, and then walked
toward the commotion – leaving no one between Dire Dan and the
landing, the hall, and the railing. I did not hesitate. I had never
been filled with such a sense of rage and vengeance. He had taken
Rachel. He had tortured my friends. He had destroyed our peace. All
of this rationalization occurred later. In that second that I saw
the clear shot, I did not hesitate. My month of learning how to
think in the few seconds after awakening in the morning served me
well at that instant. I leaped from the step and with the speed of
a linebacker picked up the low creature with all the strength born
of Rachel’s loss and launched us both over the railing.
    I had him around the waist and did not let go
as we tumbled into the great divide between the two walls of books.
He was kicking frantically and screaming that he would kill me. And
he did. I had him around the waist, and he leaned back and grabbed
my head and gave it a quick hard twist, breaking my neck.
    In the morning we were still falling. I was a
little disappointed, because I knew we were traveling down at about
a hundred miles an hour, and I hoped that after a day and night we
might have hit the bottom. The grave fear that it might be
bottomless welled up in me. I suppose it was that fear that had
kept so many of us from jumping before. I estimated we had traveled
fifteen hundred miles, and still no bottom.
    My enemy was still with me. He was about two
hundred feet above me and was in a parachutist’s dive,
spread-eagled and looking right at me. I was still winging my hands
like a chicken tossed from a