We Chose Hell

HELLO. My name is Max Regnier. My story begins at the end – if there is an end.

I’ve been consigned to the fourth circle of Hell. If you’ve ever read Dante’s “Inferno,” or even if not, you might remember that it punishes greed. Misers and spenders toil on opposite sides of a circle, rolling huge bags of money with their chests until they crash into one another. The sinner that falls to the ground first is the loser, who gets whipped by a demon until they stand back up and try again. The winner receives one gold coin, tradeable for one minute’s rest before they face their next opponent. You might not think there is any rest where we are, but it exists to remind us of what we’re missing before our torments begin anew.

I don’t know how long I’ve been here. I almost don’t care. Time is elastic in this place, stretching as far into the past/present/future as a sunset on the beach. The grunts and screams of my fellow damned ring in my ears. I block them out as best I can. There may be rest in this God-forsaken place, but there’s no empathy.

That’s why I’m suffering now. Still, can you blame me for looking out for number one? I worked seventy hours a week as a hospital janitor to make ends meet. Let me tell you, you haven’t seen shit until you’ve seen literal shit all over the place. People are disgusting. They do disgusting things when you’re not looking, like stuff dirty diapers and paper towels down the toilet. Haven’t they heard of garbage cans? I had to empty those. They were just as gross. I should have earned a fortune, but of course I didn’t. After taxes, my take-home pay was shit too.

Another fighter. Another miser. I jut my chest forward as hard as I can and push.

My bag of loot smashes into his. He tumbles to the muddy ground. A demon is on him in a flash, beating him with a braided whip. He howls in agony, struggles to get up, and falls again. After enduring another lash, the hoarder scrambles to his feet and shoves his way past me. The demon hands me a doubloon.
I could save it and earn more coins for more rest. However, I’m not allowed to keep any more than I can carry in the holey pockets of my rags. I give it back.

Sixty seconds to catch my breath. Sixty seconds to reassess my existence.

A minute lasts an eternity here.

I remember one chilly Friday in October. I was eating lunch in the cafeteria as I usually did. Rain drooled down the nearest windowpane, obscuring my view of the parking lot. Fluorescent lights hummed overhead.

I didn’t have much of an appetite for chicken tenders and potato wedges, but I needed protein and carbs to get me through the rest of the day. The food was hot, if a bit bland. I chewed it mechanically, reviewing my morning.

Two of our toilets overflowed. Piss, shit, and gigantic wads of soggy toilet paper littered the floor and leaked into nearby stalls. The creators of this chaos had fled the scene. I wasn’t happy. Neither was my supervisor, who objected to my use of colorful language when he entered the restroom. Like he’d never heard the word “fuck” before. He wrote me up, and I got even angrier. That was my second reprimand in two weeks. One more and my pay would get docked. I couldn’t afford that, not with the rent due and my car in the shop.

Someone had left the day’s newspaper on a nearby table. I went and picked it up. There had to be better opportunities for a college grad majoring in computer science. However, entry-level techs were everywhere. I had 40K in student loans to pay off. This gig kept me hanging on by the skin of my teeth.

The classifieds offered the usual jobs. Truck drivers, CNAs, waitstaff, etc. An ad caught my eye – a background of stars and planets with a slogan.

“GATEWAY TRAVEL: It’s out of this world!”

Cheesy, I know, but it made me smile. I needed something to cheer me up on that dreary day. I checked out the place’s address and phone number. It wasn’t that far from the hospital. I made a deal with myself. If the rain stopped by the time I took my afternoon break, I’d leave early and scope Gateway Travel out. If not, I’d keep plugging away and forget all about it.

I’d like to think the weather sealed my fate, but in Hell, I know better.

The rain had turned to a cold mist by the time three o’clock rolled around. I decided I needed to take the rest of the day off. Again, my boss wasn’t pleased, but I didn’t give a fuck. He wasn’t the one who’d gotten down and dirty. Speaking of which, I had to dodge several puddles on the way to my destination.

It was located in a strip mall next to a Chinese restaurant and across the street from a shop called Cinderella’s Curios. I smirked at the cutesy name but had no intention of going there. The sign on the door to Gateway Travel read OPEN.

The place was small and unassuming, with travel brochures all over the walls. Most of them showed tropical paradises: Hawaii, Fiji, Jamaica, the Bahamas. There were several showing national parks, too. I’d never gone to any of those places. Odds were, I never would.

That didn’t stop me from approaching the gorgeous receptionist.

“Hey,” I said. “I’m, uh, looking to go on vacation.”

“Then you’ve come to the right place.” She smiled with perfectly white teeth. “Welcome to Gateway Travel. I’m Rachel. I’ll tell my boss you’re here.” She pushed a button on an intercom and did just that. “Please have a seat. It’ll be a few minutes.” I sat down, admiring the view of her cleavage.

Rachel cleared her throat. “Excuse me. My eyes are up here.”

“Sorry.” She sounded pissed, but when she winked at me, my insides got all hot.

I whipped out my phone and looked to see if I had any new texts. None. I was about to check my Instagram feed when a man in a business suit approached me.

“Good afternoon. My name is Richard Plutus. How may I help you today?”

“Hi. I’m looking to get away from it all.”

“Do you have anywhere special in mind?”

How about Mars or the moon? Those are less remote than the locations you’re advertising. “Nope. Just somewhere far from this shitty – er, city.”

“I understand. What do you enjoy doing when you’re away?”

I’ve never been away. “Dunno. Relax, I guess. Veg out in front of the TV.”

“You can do that at home. How about something a little more exciting? I run a casino you might have heard of: Plutus’ Palazzo.”

“Unh-unh. Hard pass. I don’t gamble.”

“You don’t have to. There are also shows you might find entertaining.”

I coughed. “Sounds great, but I don’t have the money right now.”

“I’m offering a complimentary voucher good for tomorrow only.”

“Oh yeah? I’m still broke.”

“The buffet is excellent.”

The thought of food barely appealed. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

“How about I sweeten the deal? Two hundred dollars comped to your tab.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously, sir.”

“You know what? You’ve just made my day.” It was true. The man was highly amusing in his rush to offer me free stuff. “Nice place you’ve got here. I wish you luck, but I’ve gotta go.”

“Your name is Max Regnier. You’re twenty-eight with nothing to show for your bachelor’s degree but forty thousand dollars in the hole. You don’t gamble, not because you don’t like it or because it’s wrong, but because you’re scared of digging even deeper. You hate your job and wish your supervisor would go to hell. I can arrange that.”

“W-what? No one can. You’re some kind of scammer, aren’t you?”

“No.” The word sent shivers up and down my spine. “I can make you a very rich man. That’s my domain. I am Plutus, the mythological god of wealth.”

Okay. You’re also insane. “I’m out of here.”

I stood up, then froze. He held the voucher out to me. I stared at it.

“See if I’m as good as my word. Come tomorrow to the local riverboat. The address is listed here.”

I should have torn the voucher up. I took it and put it in my pocket instead.

“Good man.”

Mr. Plutus turned and left. Rachel waited for me to show myself out. I did, but not before asking for her phone number. To my surprise, she gave it.

I wish I could tell you that I came to my senses as soon as I got home. However, I thought there was no harm in going to Plutus’ place and seeing if the voucher was genuine. If it was fake, I’d lose nothing. If it was real, what could I gain? Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought him back.

Saturday, my official day off, was as bright and clear as Friday had been gray and miserable. Jogging down to the riverboat in the brisk fall air was a joy. A bouncer greeted me at the top of its gangplank. I handed the voucher over, and he gave me a curt nod. How many other folks had gotten one of these?

The casino was hella crowded. People sat at banks of noisy slot and video poker machines, mindlessly pushing buttons and/or waiting for the autoplay feature to finish. Servers brought drinks which may or may not have been free. No one was at the roulette wheel, keno board, blackjack, or poker tables, which I thought was odd. Maybe they’d be active at night.

I went to one of the vacant devices. It hungrily sucked my dollar into its slot, then showed several rows of digital symbols. I pushed PLAY.

The symbols spun and spun. I realized I had a chance of winning on any of the displayed rows. Unfortunately, none of the 777s, cherries, and bars ended up matching. Not even two. The machine played its loser theme – “womp, womp” – and reset itself. So much for excitement.

I vowed that I wasn’t going to lose one more cent to that one-armed bandit. As I stood up and got ready to leave the riverboat, a cute cocktail waitress approached and asked if I wanted a drink. Sure, I enjoyed alcohol but didn’t want to get drunk at – what time was it anyway? My phone didn’t get any reception, so I couldn’t tell. There were also no clocks anywhere.

If the head of Gateway Travel was right, I had two hundred bucks on my voucher. Great, but what else could I do besides feed the monsters – er, machines?

“There you are.”

Richard Plutus, wearing a snazzy red suit and black bow tie, came up to me.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Let me see your voucher.”

I offered it to him. He scanned it with something that looked like a laser pointer.

“Congratulations! You’re the lucky winner of a stay in my VIP lounge. Whatever you wish is my command, and everything is free – drinks, games, girls, and so on.”

“Girls?”

“The crème de la crème. Or if you prefer the company of gentlemen – ”

“Nah. I’m straight. How long can I stay in the lounge?”

“Three hours. Like I said, you’re very fortunate.”

Plutus led the way through the maze of occupied machines and empty table games. The riverboat seemed way bigger on the inside than the outside. Maybe that was because I could barely see in the dim ambient lighting.

Another piece of hired muscle greeted us at the door to the VIP lounge. “Hey, boss,” he said, then glared at me. “Password, asshole.”

Plutus answered something that wasn’t in English: “Lucrum super omnia. Give him your voucher, Max. He’ll keep it until your session is complete.” I obeyed. The bouncer punched in a code on the door’s keypad, and it clicked open.

Unlike the rest of the casino, the VIP lounge was brightly lit, with velvet furniture and a crystal chandelier. Very classy, but the female servers’ outfits left nothing to the imagination. G-strings and tassels. I swallowed so hard it hurt.

“Hi. What would you like?” one of them asked, pursing her full red lips.

I almost said “You,” but took a deep breath instead. “I never got my club soda.”

“How about a real drink? It’s five o’clock somewhere.”

I smiled and shrugged. “What the hell. I’ll have a double on the rocks.”

It tasted so good going down – the burn in my throat, the ease with which the liquid flowed into my stomach, the aftertaste. What kind of bourbon was it? Not the kind I usually bought. This was top-shelf. Maybe off-the-shelf.

After that, things got a little blurry. The waitresses brought me hors d’oeuvres including stuffed mushrooms and chicken satays. It was all scrumptious. I couldn’t stop stuffing my face. I asked for another double.

I heard the words “lap dance” and “free.” I obliged.

If this was Heaven, I never wanted to get off the boat.

In the corner of my eye, I spotted Plutus. “Having a good time?” he asked.

“The best. Thanks for bringing me here.”

“My pleasure. At the Palazzo, unlike other casinos, luck favors the luckless. I knew you were a winner the first time I met you at Gateway Travel. Let’s talk business.”

I blinked. “Huh?”

“This way.” He beckoned me with a finger. I tried to stand up, but my legs wobbled like crazy. I plopped back down in the velvet chair. He grabbed my hand. His felt like stone. Disgust swept through me. Did Plutus have bad arthritis? Once he yanked me to my feet, I followed him to his office.

You know the kind I’m talking about. Huge wooden desk polished to a mirror shine, with a nameplate. Persian rug on the floor. Real potted plant in the corner. Bookshelves lining the back wall. I wondered if there was a safe behind them.

“No,” said Plutus.

I jumped back. Had he read my mind?

“Sit down.”

I practically fell into the chair – hardwood instead of velvet, with a flimsy cushion.

“You’re Max. You can call me Rich.”

“Uh, hey, Rich.”

“Now that we’re reacquainted, I’ll get to the point. I need a partner. Someone who appreciates the finer things and hates it when circumstances get in their way. Someone hungry to improve their lot in life. Most importantly, someone who hates losing.” Rich tipped his fingers into a pyramid shape. “Do you, Max?”

“Hell yeah.”

“In my lines of work, I face much competition. There are many other casinos and travel agencies in the area. I’m looking to expand. Name recognition and branding are everything, but so far, I’ve kept a low profile. That needs to change. You are skilled across several social media platforms, yes?” I nod. “Good. You’ll help me increase my companies’ visibility and banish trolls and naysayers.”

“Right.”

“You’ll also learn the trade of money management, which isn’t so difficult if you apply yourself. Stocks, bonds, hedge funds – I own them all. You’ll receive a tidy share of the profits. Everything else you want will come along with it.”

Like more strippers and booze? “Like a nice house and maybe some servants?”

“If you so desire. Three things remain. What of your job at the hospital?”

“Fuck it. Someone else can clean up people’s shit for a living. I’m all in.”

“What of your current boss? Do you still wish him confined to the pits of Hell?”

“Uh-huh. The sooner the better. I hope he has a heart attack or stroke.”

“Harboring hatred in your heart can bring one on. All that stress.”

“I don’t care. He’s used and abused me at work long enough.”

“Understood. Third: The price for failure in our partnership is high. Are you willing to assume the ultimate risk – your soul against your burning desire for wealth?”

“I don’t think there is such a thing as a soul, but if you want to put it that way, then yeah.” For some reason, I couldn’t stop trembling.

“Then welcome aboard. Plutus and Regnier. It has a nice ring to it.”

I agreed. We shook hands, and his felt like a stone slab once again.

He explained the password to the VIP lounge, which soon became my motto:

“Lucrum super omnia. Profit above all.”

I quit my job, but under Plutus’ mentorship, I made a lot more money and had a lot less anxiety. I was able to pay off my student loans. Rachel the receptionist and I started dating, too. This progressed into the most wonderful relationship I’d ever had. When I asked her to marry me, she said yes without hesitation. Life was great. It got even more so when Rachel told me she was pregnant.

I refused to admit that I was living in a house of cards.

Plutus called me into his office on my third anniversary of meeting him.

“Max, my boy!” he cried. “Have a seat.”

This time I didn’t fall into the chair.

“First of all, I’d like to congratulate you on your progress. I’ve seen quick studies, but the business of finance suits you like water suits a duck. You’ve done a magnificent job managing my portfolios. Second, I hear you’re about to become a father. Would you like a cigar? The finest from Havana.” I passed. I didn’t smoke. “Ah, well. The next thing I have to tell you is quite – personal on my part.”

I leaned forward. “Go ahead.”

Plutus coughed into his sleeve. “As I told you at Gateway Travel, I’m something more than mortal. I’m a god, but not the omnipotent or omniscient kind. If I were, I’d have figured out the problem of mortality. I haven’t yet. I only know a stopgap measure to hold off death. In short, I need a new body.”

I trembled all over, as I had before. “You need me. That’s why you picked me. I’m young and strong, only thirty-one. I can give you a nice long life.”

“Indeed, you can, but I was thinking of someone much younger.”

“You want my child.”

Plutus pointed his index finger at me like a gun. “Bingo!”

“No way. I’ll never give him to you. Or her.” I started breathing hard.

“I don’t think you understand. If you refuse me now, it will be as if you always had. Like if you’d gone to Gateway Travel and turned down my casino voucher. However, I can’t rewind time. All I can do is cancel our contract and impose a penalty. The good things you have right now will disappear – your career, your mansion, your employees, your wealth portfolio, everything. All gone for good.”

“Rachel too?” Plutus nodded. “That can’t be. She loves me and won’t leave me.”

“She’ll do as I say. We entered into a lesser arrangement, since she works as my receptionist instead of my financier, but she’s still responsible for upholding it.”

“What did my wife want?”

“To pay off her student loans, lo and behold. I was disappointed in her lack of ambition, but I gave her what she wanted. Also, free travel.” He grinned with a new set of teeth – teeth that had points. I never noticed he had dentures before.

“So whether I say yes or no, you’re still going to take my kid?”

Another nod. “If you choose to give them up voluntarily, so much the better. Life will get even sweeter for you. You’ll join the ranks of the multimillionaires. If not…” He sighed. “I’m afraid the penalty is joining the ranks of the damned on my home plane. My travel agency is only a portal. I rule the fourth circle of Hell.”

Words fell out of my mouth that I regret every single moment I’m here:

“Make me a billionaire instead, and we have a deal.”

“Your wife will have to agree to these terms. She is the child’s mother.”

“Don’t worry.” Doubt flashed through my mind. She was so excited about our future bundle of joy that I was sure nothing could make her happier. Not even millions of dollars. “I’ll convince her.”

“You must. Otherwise, this new contract is null and void along with the old one.” My mouth fell open. Plutus shrugged. “I told you the risks were high.”

When I got home, Rachel and I had the biggest fight of our two-and-a-half-year marriage. She said she’d rather die than give our son or daughter to Plutus. I pointed out that she’d bargained with him too. Why hadn’t he approached her? Rachel said he might; she had an appointment with him the next day. I told her not to go. She said she had free will and could do as she pleased. She also said that if this new deal was legit, she’d give anything to stop it. Even her own soul.

“You’d rather go to Hell than save yourself and everything we’ve gained so far?”

Rachel’s eyes teared up. “Sacrifice, Max. It’s what parents make for their children.”

She stunned me with that statement. So simple. So true. So eternally binding.

The next day, we went to see Plutus together.

He granted us three more years as billionaires. Although we spent our money hand over fist, we donated a ton to charitable causes. We also got to know our adorable son, whom we named Kaden Maximilian. We arranged for his adoption by mutual friends of ours. They didn’t understand why we’d give him up. We told them that we’d be going around the world on a luxurious multi-year cruise, arranged through Gateway Travel, and needed someone to take care of him.

“Selfish, selfish, selfish,” our friend grumbled. “Never mind. I’ll raise him to be a good boy who cares about others and doesn’t let money get in the way.”

Those words stung, but not as much as the truth.

On December 31st of the third year, Rachel and I went to Gateway one last time.

“Greetings,” said Plutus, his skin looking like it would slough off his bones. Just like a cooked Thanksgiving turkey. “I see you haven’t brought me whom I seek.”

“No, and we never will.” I squared my shoulders and squeezed Rachel’s hand.

“Then you’ll both accompany me to the emergency exit at the rear of this facility, which you’ve never used. Not even in a fire drill.” Plutus chuckled, then cackled, then howled in unearthly rage. His human form morphed into that of a monstrous beast with a wolf’s head and a man’s nearly naked body. In a hilarious parody of modesty, he wore a gold lamé loincloth. We were too terrified to laugh.

“Bye, sweetie,” I said, my eyes welling. “I might never see you again.”

“Bye, honey,” replied Rachel. “I might never see you again.”

We embraced and said, “Bye, Kaden,” before following Plutus at last.

So that’s why I’m here. That’s why WE’RE here.

You might think that we would have been saved due to our sacrifice, but that’s not the way things work. Our contracts are as binding here as they were on Earth. As above, so below. The only breaks we’ve gotten are that we don’t have to fight each other – we’re both spenders, so we’re on the same side – and that we get glimpses of Kaden from time to time. As our friend had promised, he helped our son become an honest and caring man, unspoiled by the power of greed.

Did he grow up hating us? No. He barely remembers us, but that’s part of the bargain. Our friend told him that we’d drowned when our cruise ship had sunk.

My next opponent is coming. Tall and reeking, he broadcasts a familiar smile.

“Hello, Max. So wonderful to see you after all – this – time.”

My former boss at the hospital, Scrooge 2.0, charges toward me.

His bag of money bludgeons me in the chest. I fall to my knees.

Before a demon can whip me, however, the monster Plutus arrives and devours its head. Blood and gore rain down on me, but I don’t care. I feel baptized by it.

“Thank you, sir,” I blubber in abject gratitude. Plutus grunts, then leaves my side.

Some people are buying a stairway to Heaven, but not Rachel and me.

We chose Hell.

Credit: Tenet