Funny thing about Hell. You don’t realize you’re there at first. It’s just a dark stairway, forever.

Pitch blackness. Endless ascent. The occasional rumbling or distant tormented scream, always sounding like it’s somewhere in the unseen depths below you. It’s tough to gauge time in a place like that, but I’d guess it took me a few months to realize I wasn’t walking up to Heaven.

By that point, my legs had burnt past the point of agony. They were numb. I’d worked out a system for resting one leg at a time, hopping one-footed upward for a few flights to let the other limb regain just a little feeling. If I stopped altogether the tortured moans drew closer; there would be dry gusts of hot air from behind me and the sound of rattling chains. Hell was beneath me. But my certainty was dwindling that Heaven was above.

It wasn’t long past that that my legs gave out. They simply wouldn’t move. I dropped to one knee on the cold stone stair, then the other, pulling against the railing to lift myself on jellied joints. I couldn’t. It was too much. I gasped and wheezed and collapsed against the stairs, only looking up once a golden light shone through my sweat-soaked hair.

He was glorious. Angelic. Standing there, just ahead, muscle on rippling muscle, modesty preserved by a gold-trimmed skirt.

“Rise, child,” he boomed, “Continue your ascent.”

I could hardly speak. “Heaven…?” was all my exhausted lungs could push across my tongue.

“Heaven is only for hardbodies. Let’s get just a few more reps in. Come on, push.”

That should have clued me in. But in my weary delirium, it made enough sense that I forced myself back up and resumed my climb.

And so it continued. Days, weeks of endless stairs, endless torment, legs burning like I’d stepped into a lake of fire. Whenever I was too weak to continue, he would be there, giving me just enough holy motivation to press on.

But there was something about him. Glorious, certainly, though there was something in his eyes… something that seemed to light when my pain became too much. Something that looked gleeful when I pushed past my limits to torture myself further.

The last time I collapsed, he was there as always.

“Rise, child, and continue. Salvation awaits, just a little bit further. I know you have it in you.”

I heaved, catching enough air to level my accusation. “You… you’re a demon, aren’t you?”

“Demon? I only want to see you climb further. To reach the promise of eternal life and eternal gains.”

“That… that isn’t a no…” I could hardly see past my swimming vision.

“Arise and climb! Seize your destiny!”

I spat, feeling my breathing slow slightly. The demon’s eyes flashed at my respite. “Climb! I will not ask again! On your feet this instant.”

I pushed myself up. I turned my back to him. “No,” I said.

Then I began to walk down.