And now I'm back…from outer space…!

Haha! So, how've y'all been? (It's a Southern thing; y'all wouldn't get it, haha (that's on a t-shirt my friend has, haha, 'cept it says my state, but I'm not gonna tell you on the off-chance that you're rapists/murderers…I'm only a little paranoid!))

Anyway, my next story has begun!

Welcome to Hell with the Cullens! I fully expect this to be hilarious! Also, this is my version of Hell: the version of Hell that Micah Armstrong preaches about, mixed with polytheistic and normal monotheistic Hell—minus the eternal flames. The reasons why everyone but him is going to Hell (except him) are shown below somewhere.

So, have fun reading this! And reviews make us happy —hint hint—!

-Forbala-

CHAPTER ONE: WELCOME TO…HELL?!

BPOV with a little omniscient POV

"Hello, welcome to Purgatory," droned the voice of a demon sitting at a desk in front of a large iron wrought gate.

I blinked, very confused. "Did you say…Purgatory?"

"Yeah, yer dead. Name?"

"How? How did I die?" I had skipped all the phases—denial, anger, bribery—and had gone straight to acceptance.

The demon sighed, annoyed. Why did he have to do this every time? "Give me your name and I can tell you how you died," he said in a tight voice.

"…Bella—Isabella—Swan…."

The demon typed her name in the computer database and read from the screen: "'Isabella "Bella" Marie Swan: died while on her way to Forks, Washington to visit her father Charles "Charlie" Swan. In a hotel in Olympia, Washington, she tripped down two flights of stairs, out a window, and down two stories, splat! into the pavement'. Satisfied?"

"Wow. That…that really sucks. I'm such a klutz!"

"Okay, fill out these forms and you'll be judged for Heaven or Hell and whichever level as soon as the next judge is available." He handed me a clipboard full of forms and waved me off to a seating area filled with other newly-dead. I sat in a chair and filled out the papers.

It had strange questions, for Purgatory. It asked about allergies and medicines and such, things only the living would need to answer. It also asked about how I had conducted my life, asking me to check "all that applied":

Pot Smoking

Cigarette Smoking

Alcohol Drinking (check)

Guitar Playing (check)

Having a Tattoo

Showing Cleavage (check)

Showing Bellybuttons (check)

Girls Showing Their Knees (check)

Girls Showing Their Elbows (check)

Girls Wearing Tight Pants (check)

Girls Wearing Miniskirts

Being Blonde

Being Fat

Cursing (check)

Kissing on the Mouth before Marriage (check)

Holding Hands before Marriage (check)

Groping Breast before Marriage

Having Premarital Sex

Masturbation

Having Anal Sex

Having Oral Sex

Being Homosexual

Judging People (check—who hasn't judged someone at some point?)

Being Selfish (check)

Playing Sports (check—though not of her own volition)

Women Working (check)

Watching BET

Watching MTV

Watching VH1

Watching TNT (check)

Associating With Hollywood

Listening to Rap, Techno, Christian Bands, and Rock and Roll (check for Rock)

Believing in Evolution (check)

Being Catholic

Being Jewish

Being Buddhist

Being Methodist

Being Protestant

Being Mormon

Being Muslim

Being Hindu

Being Agnostic (check-ish)

Being Atheist (check-ish)

Being a Woman (they're still paying for Eve's sin) (gigantic check)

Being In a Sorority or Fraternity (check)

Owning a Pet (NOT check—she couldn't even keep herself alive, let alone another animal)

Having Sinned (probably check)

I was surprised to find that I had expected such a death to come to me, although I wished it had waited a little longer; I was only twenty-two, after all.

I completed the survey after a very long time and was eventually called in for judgment.

A female demon, this time, briefed me in a soft, motherly voice. "Here is where you will be judged—you will either be sent to Heaven as an angel, Hell as a demon, or Earth as a ghost. You may appeal for Resurrection if you think you died before your time, but don't expect it to work—only a handful of people have been resurrected. Jesus was one of the few persistent enough to be granted that privilege, though he only wanted it for one day.

"Most people end up being demons because Heaven's standards are so high. You will be asked several questions, which determine your eternal resting place. Any questions?" I shook me head, still trying to process everything the woman had said.

I was ushered to a courtroom and saw an angel as the judge. I was asked several questions, many similar to those on my forms, over the course of a couple hours.

At last, the angel made up his mind on my placement.

"Isabella Marie Swan, I deem that you shall reside in…Hell for all eternity!"

"What a surprise!" muttered the woman, innocently, who had briefed me.

"If you wish to appeal for Resurrection, speak to one of the secretaries." He waved me out and I walked away with the woman from before.

"So…what's Hell like?"

"Oh, it's actually quite nice! Do whatever you want, whenever you want! And it's a party! All the greats are here—Gandhi, Mother Teresa, Elvis, Martin Luther King, Jimi Hendrix, Freddy Mercury! Basically everyone but Jesus, Micah Armstrong, the Disciples, and about three others!"

I nodded—this could actually be fun….

BTW, I love Freddy Mercury. He's amazing. I love Queen. If you haven't seen "We Will Rock You" (the rock-opera musical based on the music of Queen) or heard "No One But You (Only The Good Die Young)" by Queen after Freddy's death, you must watch/listen! They're amazing! Freddy's song makes me cry every time (if I had functioning tear glands…).