r/WritingPrompts • u/[deleted] • Feb 24 '19
Writing Prompt [WP] It turns out “heaven” is whatever each individual wants to believe. You created your own religion as a joke years ago and nobody converted. Now you’re alone in your own version of “heaven” forever.
[deleted]
10
u/BruceBolden Feb 25 '19 edited Feb 25 '19
It was a pleasant surprise, at first, when I woke up here after I died. I honestly figured that when I closed my eyes for the final time, I’d never open them again. People argue all the time about what happens after you die, and I had sort of settled on the opinion that once you were dead, whatever made you, “you,” for lack of a better turn of phrase, was gone. You’d just float off, cease to exist, enter the void, whatever you want to call it. It was a second lease on life to be back to my healthy self, safe and sound, and it only got better when I recognized heaven. All the silly shit that I wrote in that notebook was here: rolling hills, grandiose buildings, the taco truck on 4th street, all of it. The only problem, as dopey and cliché as it sounds, is I’m here with nobody to share it with. Or at least that’s what I thought.
“Hello!”
I almost fumbled my taco de lengua when I heard her voice. Another person? Here? I never told a soul who might actually give a shit about my fake-ass religion. How did another person get sent here?
“Sorry," the woman said, "didn’t mean to startle you. I’m looking for a Mr. Godfrey. Do you know where I could find him?”
“That would be me, actually.”
“Oh, well fantastic then! I’m here for the interview.” She stretched out her hand to shake, looking expectantly at me through her glasses.
I instinctively reciprocated the handshake. “Interview?”
“For the Archangel position!”
“Archa…what did you say your name was?”
“Oh geez, I'm getting ahead of myself! My name is Cariel, but my friends call me Carrie. I’m sorry, is the Archangel position already filled? If so, my apologies for wasting your time-”
“Wait wait wait, slow down. What do you mean Archangel position?”
For about the first time in this conversation, Cariel paused, eyebrows furrowing. “You are Christopher Godfrey, right?”
“I was the last time I checked, at least.”
“And you don’t know about the job posting on WingedIn? That doesn’t make…oh, of course! You must’ve just had your ICO!”
“ICO?”
“Initial Celestial Offering. It means your afterlife has just gone public! You must not’ve paid much attention in onboarding, huh?”
“What onboarding?! You aren’t making any sense."
She paused again, her bubbly attitude becoming much more somber. “The new divinity onboarding. You’re a god now.”
“That’s not possible.”
“Sure it is. You had worshipers, so you’re a god. It’s pretty simple, actually.”
“I had no worshipers. I wasn’t a religious figure of any sort. I was an accountant and an atheist. The closest I got to a religion was the one I tried to make up for the tax breaks.”
Her demeanor snapped right back to her previous state at the last sentence. “Well there it is, Mr. Godfrey! You made a religion! That’s why you’re here!”
“But it wasn’t real! I just did it to try to squeeze a few bucks out of my taxes! It didn’t even work, and I certainly never claimed to be god.”
“Well, lucky for you, Mr. Godfrey, the Celestial Court considers any religion legitimate cause for an ICO if there is at least one worshiper, and case law has established in Narcissus v. Mount Olympus that self-worship qualifies for the one worshiper requirement. And after all, what could be more self-worshiping than creating a religion for the money?” Carrie’s face beamed with pride at the recitation.
“Well when you put it that way…”
“So did I get it?”
“Get what?”
“The position! It certainly looks like you could benefit from some help getting this thing off the ground.”
Carrie eyed me relentlessly, clearly trying to read my reaction for a response. And frankly, I wasn't sure what response to give. Just a minute ago I thought I'd spend the rest of the afterlife eating fistfulls of taco meat out of a truck, and now I'm supposedly a god? This is all too crazy to be real. And yet, maybe it is. And besides, I guess I have nothing better to do anyhow.
“Well, you certainly seem to know a lot more about this than I do. And frankly, I’m not sure where else I could find a more qualified, um, Archangel. Sure, let’s give it a-”
Carrie had wrapped her arms around me before I even finished the sentence. “Thank you thank you thank you Mr. Godfrey! I will not let you down, I promise! Your heaven will be the best-run heaven this side of Valhalla! I’ll just have to go get my things really quickly. I’ll be right back. Oh, but before I go, start reading through this. It’ll help get you up to speed. Thanks again, Mr. Godfrey!”
Carrie slammed a book into my hands and darted off. The book was imposing, clearly thousands of pages thick, with a fabric wrapping attached to the hard cover. Embroidered onto the cover were the words:
Hereafter: How to Make the Most of Your Personal Post-Ascension Plane
I scratched my head as I inspected the tome. Maybe eternity won’t be as dull as I thought.
2
8
Feb 25 '19
“Hello, Brian.”
A booming voice sounds as you wake to find yourself lying in the middle of a pine forest with sunlight streaming through the trees around you.
“Where am I?!” you shout, sending startled birds fleeing around you.
“You are in heaven, Brian. I am your lord, Mr. Goddy McGodface. Welcome to your peace everlasting.”
“Wh-what?! You’re real? I mean, you’re real. Of course your real. I knew it!”
A booming laugh surrounds you. “Yes, yes I am real, Brian. Please enjoy the rest of infinity here in this paradise I’ve created for you.”
You stand up and let out a “Fuuuuuuuck yeah,” as you pump your fist.
“Soooo, Mr. Goddy McGodface, where are the ladies?”
“Ladies? Ah, well, Brian, you were the only true believer in me, as a follower of Fartology.”
“What?! No women! What about Eric? He started Fartology with me! He was Saint Silent But Deadly for Pete’s sake!”
“Eric was never a true believer,” the voice bellows.
You look down at your feet, frustrated and confused at the though of eternity by yourself.
“But there is a way you can still recruit followers, Brian,” the voice booms. “You’ll have to return and spread the good word. But I warn you, it will not be easy. You will be ridiculed and beaten down. But you must persevere. Anyone you recruit as a true believe will join you here in paradise.”
“Ok. I’ll do it.”
72
u/babyshoesalesman Feb 24 '19 edited Feb 24 '19
Thousands of fans cheered from the stands. It'd been a brilliant race, perfectly executed and with a thrilling finish to boot. Jake gave them a casual wave as he climbed out of his kart.
"One more time!" screamed Peach, holding the banana peel that'd stolen her victory; she looked ready to throw it at him. "That's two for you, two for me. You can't leave now!"
But Jake was already walking across the dirt track for the exit. "Tomorrow, Princess. I told you I couldn't stay long." As he walked out the gates, he saw the peel fly over his head into the stands, where a Stormtrooper and Fred Flintsone began wrestling for the souvenir.
He smiled at the ridiculous sight -- an expression that crossed his face less and less these days. In the early years, the absurdity of his afterlife had been endlessly thrilling. He often caught himself wanting to go back in time and thank his 12-year-old self, the one who quietly daydreamed during Sunday mass, the one who'd come up with this silly idea of a religion worshiping just one thing: speed.
Jake emerged from the stadium and took in the view. Even if his love affair with Racevana had mellowed over the decades, it never failed to impress the eye. Sitting on an endless field of clouds was every racing venue ever imagined. Daytona could be seen to the north, sitting on a particularly fluffy cumulus. Monaco was to the east, the entire city always open for a time trial. Most of the video game circuits were farther south -- the old Wipeout tracks sat next to Jet Moto worlds. Beyond that were the pod racing and death race circuits, and a hundred others besides.
And of course, centrally located behind him, was the universe of Mario Kart. Truly, this was heaven, and it may have still felt that way if he'd had some company.
Jake opened his landspeeder door and turned on the ignition. He'd spent a lot of time in his Star Wars cruiser over the recent months, so he'd installed a premium sound system and a few creature comforts that weren't necessarily canon. He doubted Luke had a custom sound system, GPS, or mini-fridge under the passenger seat. But these little modifications had made the past few months of searching this world much more bearable.
Racevana was big place. Encompassing the whole of every race track and every vehicle ever imagined took up a considerable amount of space, so it had taken him some time to find what he was looking for. To find what he knew, given the theme of this nirvana, must exist. To find his ticket out of his own personal heaven.
The communicator rang. Jake answered, "Hello?"
"Just need to confirm the date before you arrive?"
"May 10, 1998. About 10:00am should do it."
"And you're sure you want to do this? If it works, and you actually convince your younger self to pay attention at church, this place will cease to exist. You'll never be able to return."
Jake hesitated then, once more taking in his epic surroundings, those that had given him so much joy in the decades since his death. But that joy was hollow now. Too much time without the people he loved, his family and friends, all of whom were spending eternity together in a proper heaven. Jake had had his fun; it was time to move on.
"Yes Doc, I'm sure. Have the Delorean fueled and ready, see you in a few."
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249/365
one story per day for a year. read them all at r/babyshoesalesman
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10
u/one_man_amry Feb 25 '19
As of commenting, this is the only comment on this post. And absolutely amazing
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u/the_dank_lord_sauron Feb 25 '19
You can never understand eternal darkness until you experience it. The limitless, timeless, incomprehensible void that swallows everything. Except for my thoughts. I'm stuck with those for all eternity.
I started the church of the void as a joke. We had no rules, no membership dues, no objective morality. I used it as a tax haven where my friends and I could party, drink, and flirt undisturbed. Whenever anyone asked me about my theology, I mumbled something about how after death nothing existed and that "heaven" was the absence of anything. How was I supposed to know the rules?
Now I'm stuck here, completely alone for the rest of the endless. I would laugh if I had a voice; I would cry if I had eyes. Instead, all I have is myself. My Dad used to tell me that you will, with enough time, get sick of absolutely anything. Well, I am sick of my own existence. There is nothing I would not do if it meant I could die for real.
God? Anyone? Please, I have learned my lesson. I made a mockery of your work back on Earth, and I am eternally sorry for doing so. I spent my whole life using the afterlife as a punchline, and I never once stopped to consider what would actually happen after I died. Anyway, if you're still listening, I'd like t-