The Life Of Franklin DeMario

Franklin DeMario woke from what seemed like the longest nap of his life. God, he felt hot! He tried to roll over but found that his wrists and ankles were shackled with thick chains that were attached to a large, metal chair.

"Hey! What the hell is this? Who did this to me? Why am I here!" he yelled, frantically trying to get loose.

The most beautiful man he'd ever seen stepped out from the inky shadows. His hair, long and golden red, reaching the middle of his back, shimmered like gold and live embers. His eyes were the most peculiar of all. Deep pools of ebony and ash, they were intense and hypnotic. He was muscular and fit, sporting a goatee that reached the middle of his torso.

"Yes, exactly, you hit it right on the head. This is hell," the man said with a voice like a bass drum, "Welcome to Hell's Courtroom."

"What are you talking about? Is this some kind of sick joke?" Franklin asked him as he struggled against his chains.

"Unfortunately, no one is laughing, Mr. DeMario. You have been accused of crimes against humanity. Let me introduce myself. I have many names, but I'll give you one of my favorites. Lucifer. You can call me Luke if you wish. I'm easy."

"Wait a minute. Are you saying I'm dead? I'm in Hell?" Franklin asked, incredulously. "But, I'm a believer! I believe in God! Why am I here? There must be some mistake!"

Lucifer chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. Why did they always seem so surprised? Waving his strong arm, the room suddenly opened up into what could only be described as a courtroom. A bright spotlight shone directly on Franklin as he looked around wildly. He observed the room had been divided into two parts. On one side, demons and minions gathered grotesquely, cackling, grunting, and growling in savage delight.

On the other, Seraphim, the highest order of angels, and the powerful, sword-wielding, Cherubim, heaven's warriors. There were two exits, obviously, the outcome of the trial would determine which one he would be going to. This was real. Everything he'd ever believed about heaven and hell smacked him in the face and his head was reeling. My God, he was about to be judged.

"Yes, you're absolutely correct. Welcome to your life, Franklin Roberto DeMario!" Lucifer thundered, waving his arms and stretching his magnificent dark wings. A giant screen of life appeared in a panoramic view around the courtroom, and there on the screen, little Franklin DeMario was coming into the world in a liquid burst of body fluids, and blood. Waving tiny fists at the world, he took his first breath, letting it out in a long, drawn-out cry of defiance. His liquid, peaceful world erupting in a flash of bright lights and loud voices.

The years flashed by and he saw himself at five-years-old, sneaking into the cookie jar, and lying to his mother about it.

"Oh, come on! Really? I was only five! Five-years-old, for God's sake!" he whined to the courtroom.

A few more years and it stopped at another scene of him at eight. He'd found a hurt rabbit in the woods. Instead of helping it, he cringed as he watched himself stone the poor animal to death, laughing at its squeals of fear and pain. His face turned red with shame as the angels wept audibly.

"Okay," he admitted, "That was really bad. But maybe I was having a crappy day or something!"

In school, he bullied poor Jimmy Tanner to tears and watched in horror as the boy begged his mother not to send him to school.

"Okay, I admit I wasn't exactly the best kid in the world but is this enough to send me to hell?" he implored the court. He saw the Angels shaking their heads, tears in their eyes, and the demons clapping each other on the back in triumph. For in the next scene, that very same boy was shown committing suicide by hanging himself in his room. Franklin hung his head in shame a little too late.

Another scene popped up of his first girlfriend, Jenny, who broke his heart. From there, it showed every girl after that and his abuse. Again, he lowered his head in shame. Robberies, a murder that he thought he had gotten away with, and dirty dealings with undesirables left him trembling with fear. He was guilty of all of it, but tossed in a lake of fire forever? Did he really deserve that? He saw the Angels crying, and looked up at the screen again. Ahhh, no, not his son.

"No! Please! You can't do this to me! I loved him, I did!" he screamed in frustration. But he was made to watch as, week after week, a little boy stood in the window, his bag packed. Week after week, year after year, he watched as the little boy stood at the same window only to turn away with tear-filled eyes until, one day, the little boy grew to hate him.

"But I sent him money!" he argued weakly, feeling something he'd never felt before. Remorse. He loved his son! He did! He saw the demons as they glowed with pleasure, each of them dreaming of the torture they would mete out to this human failure. "Please! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt him! I loved him!"

The Angels hung their heads, unwilling to look at him. The demons licked their lips and gnashed their teeth in anticipation of this human morsel, and Franklin trembled with mortal fear. He was going to Hell. He knew it now. His life, as it played out before him, shamed him, making him sick to his stomach. He'd done nothing but evil his whole life. He made no one happy, helped not one human being on the planet, and basically made everyone he touched miserable. He cried as the room suddenly got hotter, driving out the Angels. His body prickled with sweat as the great screen went black. Franklin screamed in horror and madness seeing Lucifer in his true form just as all light left the room. All that was left was eternal darkness that swallowed him, engulfing him with hopelessness.

His screams became shrill as the demons swarmed over him, ripping and tearing at his flesh. Not bothering to unlock the chains, they just ripped his arms out, devouring his hands and feet as his screams were torn out of him.

Franklin Roberto DeMario woke from his nightmare in a cell, still screaming, sweat pouring from his body. Just as quickly as he realized it was all just a dream, he remembered what day it was. The day he would be put to death.