At midnight, the body of a thirty-year-old man was found in his very own apartment.
A kitchen knife was buried deep in his heart.
His lips were twisted into a devious smile, as if he had finally been freed from something that had weighed on him for far too long.
Crushed cans of cheap beer lay scattered across the floor. Empty cigarette packs were piled beside the bed.
A note—drenched in blood—rested between the jaws of his cat as it sat silently on his lap.
The cat's once-beautiful white fur was stained dark red, its eyes hollow as it stared at its owner… and only friend.
{ If you are reading this, then I am hopefully dead.
I have only two wishes, if whoever finds this is capable of fulfilling my selfish desires then please do so .
First: take care of my cat in my stead. He is my everything. He will harm no one—after all, only humans do. He loves salty food and fish. His name is Leo.
Second: do not clean my body, and do not bury me beside those who believe in God and religion. Burn me to ashes instead.
That is all. }
I opened my eyes.
I was naked.
Not alone.
Bodies pressed in from every side,
crammed into a filthy pit.
Men and women stood shoulder to shoulder, silent, unmoving except for the slow shuffle forward.
Each of them held two books—one in their left hand, one in their right.
Except me.
In my left hand rested a thick black book.
Sins, written across its cover.
In my right hand, only a single sheet of paper.
One sentence was written on it.
Good deeds:
Dying
My blood boiled.
"Damn you," I muttered, crushing the paper and throwing it to the ground.
No one reacted.
No shame of our uncovered bodies . No confusion. No fear.
They walked forward , all of them with the same beat as if they were a one heart .
Ahead of us stretched a bridge of blinding white.
This can't be real, I whispered.
God didn't exist , such an authority doesn't exist yet what is this? .
I reached for the woman beside me. Her hair dragged across the filthy ground, long and tangled. My hand passed through her chest .
I tried again.
Another person.
Then another.
Nothing stopped them.
They moved forward as if I did not exist.
Panic crept in slowly—then all at once.
Is that what religious people talked about?
The judgment day ?
No , That's impossible.
"…Is my cat okay?" I whispered. "Please be okay…"
The crowd thinned.
Time lost meaning. Faces blurred. One moment there were hundreds—then dozens—then only a few.
I ran.
I chased them toward the bridge, breath tearing from my lungs, clutching the black book to my chest.
By the time I caught up, only two of us remained.
Me… and a woman walking beside me.
She was beautiful in a way that hurt to look at—her presence too vivid, too real. Every detail of her naked form burned into my vision, as if this place refused modesty on purpose.
At the end of the bridge stood a throne of pure white.
A child sat upon it.
White hair.
Eyes whose color could not be named.
Two figures stood at his sides.
On the left, a tall man with golden wings and a face sculpted from devotion and severity.
On the right, a shorter woman, her posture formal, her expression gentle.
"Luna Arthritis."
The man's voice echoed.
The woman beside me stepped forward immediately and knelt.
"Read the book in your right hand," the winged woman said, her voice calm and absolute.
Luna set the thicker book aside and opened the smaller one.
"The good deeds of Luna Arthritis…"
Her hands trembled.
"There is no need to fear," the winged woman said softly. "Just read."
Luna swallowed.
"Caring for my sick mother and father… raising my two younger sisters… working to secure their education…"
Her voice grew steadier as she continued.
I clenched my fists.
An angel, I thought.
"…I died from exhaustion during a modeling session."
The winged woman smiled.
"Thank you for your good deeds, Luna."
Then the man on the left stepped forward.
"Now read the book in your left hand."
Luna froze.
Slowly, she opened it.
"The sins of Luna Arthritis…"
Her voice broke.
"S-sleeping with my landlord…"
"Raise your head," the man snapped. "And read clearly."
Tears streamed down her face.
"I slept with my landlord at fifteen. I stole from him that same night. I lied about my family… said my parents were dead.." She continued naming her sins .
The book was far thicker than the other.
The child on the throne yawned.
Bored.
His gaze drifted—and landed on me.
He smirked.
When Luna finished, the child sat upright.
"Luna Arthritis," he said, pointing to the left,
"I sentence you to the Path of the Fallen."
A road of bones and screaming souls opened before her.
Hell.
Luna begged. She cried.
Her legs moved anyway.
I tried to speak.
Nothing came out.
I watched her disappear.
Something inside my chest collapsed.
When it was over, the winged woman turned to me.
"Where is your right book?" she asked.
My body moved again.
I dragged myself forward, my head bowed.
She asked again.
I ignored her.
I lifted my gaze to the child on the throne.
"Who are you?"
The air tightened.
The child smiled.
"I am the Creator. The one humans call God."
Something inside me shattered.
"So you do exist after all," I muttered.
I raised my head.
"Hey, God," I said.
"damn you."
The wings behind him flared with rage.
The child laughed.
Soft. Angelic.
"Do you hate me, my child?" he asked.
"Don't call me that," I snapped. "You're the child here."
He tilted his head.
"It is impossible for humans to speak here," he said. "Yet you curse me."
Then his eyes sharpened.
"What seems to be your problem , Zero?"
My chest burned.
"My life," I said. "The family I was born into. The face I was given. The weakness I never escaped."
I inhaled, shaking.
"And you send someone like her to hell ,
Why? She only did what she had to do to survive! "
The child's expression softened.
"I understand your anger," he said. "But none of that was my doing , besides if judgement was possible for humans i would seated you in my place , wouldn't i ?"
My hands trembled.
"Then who ruined my life?" I demanded.
He studied me.
"You were unwanted. You destroyed yourself. You died at thirty—loveless, unsuccessful."
He paused.
"Your only regret was leaving your cat behind."
My vision blurred.
"But non of that was my doing, zero " he said.
Silence stretched.
Then—
"Then who did?" I shouted. "Who created me? Who created my mother? Who started this shit show?!"
The child expression got serious as he stood up of his throne,
Light cracked across his body gradually,
"Then tell me," the voice asked from within the radiance,
His childish form shattered.
"would you have wished not to be born at all?"
The light burned my eyes.
"If I had the choice," I said, shielding my face,
"I would choose never to live that life ever again , you damn abomination of existence!"
Silence.
Then laughter , his form wasn't anything but a burning light that slowly allowed itself to led off to my eyes not burn completely.
"Then how about," God said,
"I give you a brand new one instead of an endless torture in hell ?"
Final version , what's the rating and your thoughts