A dark tunnel and a light at the end. The light grows and covers Jimbo's field of vision.
He slowly opens his eyes and lets out a yawn. He stretches and notices he is lying on a hard, grooved surface. Strangely, he feels no physical or mental discomfort. Despite his last memories being blurry, Jim feels as light as a feather, and could even say he has never felt better in his life.
He reaches out to check his alarm clock, but only grasps empty air, and the smile disappears from his face.
Something is wrong.
He squints and looks at his hand. Where there once was flesh, there is now a strange, fluctuating, semi-transparent white energy, surrounded by a rainbow aura whose shades shift with Jim's emotions. In this situation, the aura is tinted with the yellows and greens of panic and surprise.
Jim screams, stands up, and tries to move, but bumps into the semi-transparent white entity in front of him, and then into the one behind him. To the left and right, his path is also sealed off by railings. The marble and gold escalator ascends through pastel-colored clouds.
"What is going on?! Where am I?!" Jim exclaims, patting his body from top to bottom. He wears no clothes and lacks genitals, just like the hundreds of creatures he spots when looking around.
Jim has been turned into a little energy figure, like white fire contained in a small, circular, humanoid vessel. He could almost look like a plush toy or a new Pokémon.
The entity behind him gives him a tired look with sleepy eyes.
"Relax, kid," the voice is masculine and slightly deep, perhaps belonging to a professor or a military man. "At this point, none of your worries matter anymore. Just enjoy the ride. Look, we're nearing the end," he adds, pointing with a chubby hand.
"Are you an alien? Was I abducted by aliens? Don't hurt me, I'm on your side!"
A feminine laugh startles Jim, coming from the entity in front of him, one shorter than the rest.
"You still haven't realized, have you?" the small entity asks with an amused smile.
"Realize what…?" Jim remains lost.
"How do I put this in words that won't hurt your feelings…?" the little girl wonders, a hand near what used to be her chin, only to then wave her arms and exclaim. "You're dead! Dead! It's over! Period, full stop! Your infinite universe just became finite! Game Over!"
Jim's aura darkens. Trembling, he shakes his head in denial of this information. In response, the entities get straight with him.
"My name is Mary. I just turned sixteen when I died after slipping on a banana. In my defense, it was a cloudy day."
"I'm Gustavo, I'm thirty-two… I died in an armed robbery leaving a class at the university."
"Well, I don't remember dying! This has to be a mistake!" Jim exclaims, leaning over the railing, tempted to jump into the sea of clouds. "A mistake, yes. This can't be happening. God, no! I'm not even a believer!"
Despite Jimbo's endless complaints, the staircase keeps moving. The top is connected to nothing, and for a few seconds, it seems Mary will fall into the void. A beam of light pierces through the clouds, illuminates Mary, and lifts her until she vanishes among the cumulus.
The steps move once more, and now Jim stands in the spot Mary occupied a few seconds ago. He tries to push his way through the souls, but Gustavo stops him and shoves him back into place.
"Calm down, kid."
"How do you expect me to calm down?!"
"I know it's complicated, but I'm sure we'll get our answers up there."
"I don't want answers! I want to go back home! At least…! At least let me delete my internet history!"
"I doubt that's possible."
The beam of light falls again. Jimbo's soul is lifted. He barely manages to try and grab onto Gustavo's hands, but the man lets him go.
"Son of a biiiiiiiitch!"
Jim's voice sounds further and further away until it disappears.
The clouds scatter.
Jim shakes his head and, feeling solid ground, stands up. Ahead is a white wooden desk with a simple appearance. Sitting behind the desk is a tall man with a gray beard, wearing a humble red tunic, a halo floating above his head. Behind the tall man stand gates and two doors, one of gold and one of silver, both with pearly arches. The man gives Jim the kindest, most understanding smile he has ever seen in his life. Jim shudders and stammers, remembering some childhood cartoons where this exact thing happens.
"St. P-Peter?"
The saint nods.
"You know all those times I cursed and took the Lord's name in vain...? I was joking..."
The saint lets out a soft laugh. His voice is soothing, calming Jim down a bit. The old man opens the book on the desk and flips through the first pages.
"It seems life at the orphanage was hard on you, son. But with study, effort, and making the most of a few good opportunities, you managed to rise above."
"St. Peter, look, I'm sure this is a big mistake," he says, approaching the desk. "At most, I probably slipped into a coma from the excitement of my crushing victory, but I can't be dead. Please, speak with God, or Christ, or even Zeus if you have to, and send me back home. To repay the favor, I promise to go to mass every Sunday."
The saint's expression becomes contemplative, and he checks the final page of the book.
"Fire."
"What?"
"You died in a fire in your apartment. A tragic accident."
"I don't remember that!"
"Allowing you to forget is one of heaven's blessings, son. I doubt it would do you any good to recall those final moments."
Jim lowers his head and looks at his hands, while St. Peter continues reading the book. Jimbo pinches himself, hits himself on the head, but he feels no pain nor wakes up in his bed. He whispers to himself that it's a dream or a hallucination, but as the minutes add up, he understands the nightmare is real. His life ended in such a horrible way that he can't even remember how his end came about.
"I'm dead... Fuck."
With his aura's colors darkened, Jimbo raises his face toward the guardian of heaven to receive his sentence. The tall man points a finger at a line in the book and frowns.
"It says here you masturbated, Jimbo. I suppose you'll have to spend eternity in hell."
Jimbo's aura turns pale, and he almost feels his soul will snap in two. St. Peter's expression softens and he laughs.
"I'm joking. We don't focus so much on the act, but rather the intent. We are more flexible than you people think."
"So I'm not going to hell...?" Jim remains very stiff, still in shock.
"It depends... By any chance, is your name also Nicolás Maduro?"
"No. I don't even know who that is."
"In that case, you'll be fine. Hell is only for truly wicked souls, Jimbo. Dangerous souls that have caused, directly or indirectly, great evil, corruption, or pain, with nothing to redeem them. However, I cannot allow you into heaven either... After evaluating your record, I feel what's best for you is to return to the cycle of reincarnation."