I met someone who claimed to be the Devil...and I think I'm going to hell

I was in a weird spot in my life. I was 20 years old and I had dropped out of college, but not before racking up a massive amount of student loan debt. I managed to get a minimum wage job washing dishes at the local greasy spoon. But it didn't feel like I was getting anywhere. Every night, I would go to the local watering hole to drown my sorrows in a pint of cheap beer. I usually sat at the bar and talked with the bartender, but if one of my "friends" saw me and invited me over, I would secretly look around to see if anyone was watching, and if no one was, I would ditch the bartender and go hang out at their table. This night was no exception. I grabbed a pint and sat down at the bar, and ordered a shot of the cheapest whiskey to start the night. At that moment, the door swung open and a girl that I had a crush on in high school walked in. I immediately looked around to make sure no one was watching, and when I saw that everyone was distracted, I got up and walked over to her table. şi"You know, I used to really like you in high school," she said. "Used to?" I asked. I was already drunk, and this was my first drink. "You're not as cool as you were then," she said. "You're kinda pathetic now, to be honest." I was about to respond when a man walked through the door. I'd never seen him before. He was tall, with red skin and black eyes. He didn't look like he was from around here. He walked through the crowd of people without anyone noticing him and sat down in the stool that I had just vacated. "No one's sitting there," the bartender said. "Oh, I think it's open," the man said. The bartender shook his head and walked away. "Why don't you go back to your old life?" the girl I had a crush on said. "Huh?" I asked. "Go back to your old life, you know, the one from high school." I stood up and made my way back to the bar. When I got there, I saw the bartender polishing a mug and staring at the man sitting next to me. He was holding a pint of beer and sipping it and looking around the bar. "Can I get another shot?" I asked. He immediately grabbed my bottle and filled it to the brim. "On the house," he said. "Thanks," I said. "Who's that?" The bartender looked over at the man in confusion. "I could have sworn that someone was sitting there," he said. "But I guess I was wrong." "No, beside me," I said. The bartender looked over at the man and his eyes widened in terror. "I thought you said that seat was open," the man said. The bartender immediately put his hands up in a defensive position and backed away. "I, uh, I thought you said it was open," he said. Nobody seemed to notice the man, except for me. "Who are you?" I asked. "I am the Devil," the man said. "And I'm here for you." I laughed out loud. "The Devil? That's a load of shit," I said. The Devil stood up and grabbed my arm. No one but me seemed to notice. "You don't believe me?" I tried to shake my arm loose, but it was no use. "No," I said. The Devil pulled my arm over his shoulder. "Watch closely," he said. And then, in an instant, he disappeared. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself standing in a great hallway. There were doors lining the walls on either side, and at the end of the hallway was a great wooden door with golden handles. "Welcome to hell," the Devil said. I tried to spin around, but it was no use. The Devil's grip was too strong. "What the hell is this place?" I asked. "This is hell," the Devil repeated. "And this is where you're going." "No, I mean this hallway," I said. "This is purgatory," the Devil said. "This is the waiting room," I joked. The Devil pulled me down the hallway. As we walked, the doors opened and the people behind them came out into the hallway. They were all burning and screaming. Some of them had pitchforks sticking out of them, others had flames shooting out of their asses. "Who are these people?" I asked. "These are the people who have already been judged," the Devil said. "These are the people that are going to hell." We reached the end of the hallway and the Devil let go of me. "Are you ready for your judgement?" he asked. "Yes," I said. "But before you send me to hell, can I ask you a question?" "What is it?" the Devil said. "I've read stories about the Devil and how hell works," I said. "In some of them, you're evil and in some of them, you're not. So my question is this; are you evil, or are you just doing your job?" The Devil stared at me, dumbfounded, before answering. "I am not evil. I am just doing what I was made to do. It's not my choice who goes to hell and who goes to heaven. I am not God." He grabbed the handles on the door and pulled it open. Inside, the room was filled with rows and rows of pews, and standing at the front of the room was God. "Thank God," I said. "No," the Devil said. "Thank you. You have made my life a little bit brighter." I walked inside the room and the Devil shut the door behind me. God looked up from his desk, which was at the front of the room. "Oh, you must be Jeremy," he said. I nervously nodded. "How did you know my name?" "It's written on that piece of paper on my desk," God said. "And on that paper is a list of every bad thing you've done in your life." "What are you going to do with it?" I asked. "You're going to hell," God said. "Why?" "Because of everything on this list," God said. He waved the paper in the air. "That's not fucking fair," I said. "So the Devil isn't full of shit. You *do* decide who goes to hell." God nodded. "Yes, it is my call." "How the hell am I supposed to know your fucking rules if you don't even tell me what they are?" I asked. "You should have read the Bible," God said. "Why the fuck would I do that?" I asked. "You should have believed in me," God said. "Why the fuck would I do that?" I asked. God sighed. "I'm afraid the Devil is right," he said. "You're going to hell." "I thought the Devil wasn't evil and was just doing his job?" "He was talking about me," God said. I laughed. "You're the Devil," I said. "This whole time." "Wait what?" the Devil said from behind me. "This whole time, *you* were the Devil," I said. "Who was talking about whom?" the Devil asked. "God called himself the Devil," I said. "Oh," the Devil said. "I guess that means I'm God then." "No, I'm God!" God said. "He's the Devil!" "Wait, what?" I asked. "So if God is the Devil, and the Devil is God, then is God the Devil and the Devil God?" "Shut up Jeremy," the Devil-God said. "You're going to hell." "No, I think I'll go to heaven," I said. "And I'll let you," God-the-Devil said. "Wait, what?" the Devil-God and I said in unison. "Because if I am the Devil," God-the-Devil said, "that means that I am *not* God, therefore anything I say is wrong." "Then I am God," Devil-God said. "Which means that I am not the Devil." "Which means that anything *you* say is wrong," I said. "Yes," God-the-Devil said. "So if anything you say is wrong, then does that mean that I'm actually going to hell?" "Yes," Devil-God said. "And if anything you say is wrong, then that means that anything you say is wrong?" "Yes," God-the-Devil said. "Which also means that anything I say is right." "But I thought you said that anything you say is wrong," I said. "Right," Devil-God said. "Because anything you say is wrong, anything I say is right." "But didn't you say that anything God says is wrong?" I asked. "Yes," God-the-Devil said. "Which means that anything he says is right." "But you said that anything you say is wrong, and if anything you say is wrong, then that means that anything he says is right." God-the-Devil and Devil-God both started crying. "This is all too much," God-the-Devil said. "I feel the same way," I said. "I am God," Devil-God said. "So I guess that means that I get to decide where you go." "I am God," God-the-Devil said. "So I think that *I* get to decide where you go." "I am the Devil," the Devil said. "So I get to take him wherever you decide to send him." "I think he should go to heaven," Devil-God said. "I think he should go to hell," God-the-

I met someone who claimed to be the Devil...and I think I'm going to hell

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