Microwaved Scene

At Chronicles-Network, I took part in a simple contest where a person looks at the above picture and, within a 15 minute and 500 word limit, write a brief scene inspired by it.

Below is my stab at it:

"There are all kinds of Hells. Sure, there is the all too infamous Hell where you towel off your blistering body with a tattered set of rags. You could chip away at inferno’s rocks while the Diablo busts your balls: that is the deal. Perhaps demons flush with the type of sanguine found vibrant in emergency exit signs will be pointing and laughing at your sweat. Maybe they will dance. Maybe you will cry. Either way, this type of Hell is a Hell in onto itself simply for being so damned unoriginal.

"Maybe instead of working onto eternity, you could relive your greatest fears over and over again until the Groundhog Day effect drives you insane. There could be whipping involved. Hell, there could be outright torture in Hell.

"There were some horrible heart breaks in my life. The Sirens of humiliation could throw a green captain’s hat upon my head and trick me into breaking the bones of my spirit against the jagged points of memories I would have rather forgotten.

"There could be a type of Hell that berated you with bad puns, but I am not a joking man.

"I am sure of it, I tell you. Hell spits itself up in many forms. Sometimes it is in the partially digested forms of our own sins. Sometimes it’s the stomach acid that froths from kindred souls who would not like being reminded where they ended up by your very presence beside them. The carnage is crueller on the other side of the fence. That sort of thing.

"My point is, officer," Herbert said while failing to rub away the soot from his bifocals, "out of all the Hells you could put your mind to, could you ever imagine this?"

Herbert, who had decided that an ash tainted vision is better than a Monet one, put his bifocals back on his shy self and pointed one stubby finger at the museum engulfed in flames, which were eager to taunt the night sky.

"Could you imagine a Hell where a caretaker who had all the world’s history and treasures before him and under his care, only managed to save this—" he motioned to an artifact comprised of a skeleton melted onto a motorbike "—vulgar sculpture from a fire?"