[author's note: This was actually a school assignment we had to
do.  I loved it so much, I had a blast. I think I had a bit TOO much 
fun, but anyway, here's my interpretation of hell for these particular
sinners.  Then name of the sinner has also been change to protect the
person I was really mad at! :o)]


It was another day for a Colonel Peter Douglas as he stepped 
outside into the crisp morning air.  He breathed in the clean 
atmosphere, and a wry smile appeared on his face.  He rose his hand 
to his grey-streaked brown hair and did one smooth move, moving his 
hair to the right position.  He looked himself over quickly. He was 
wearing a grey, stiff suit that seemed to absorb the cold.  His slim
figure made the suit stand out from most of his colleagues.  His 
piercing brown eyes scanned the every day scenery he had seen day in 
and day out.

He shivered at the 43 degree temperature and made a mental note to 
himself to buy another jacket for the chilly weather.  He then made 
the few routine steps he had always made every morning to his car, and
opened the door.  He seated himself, then slammed the door.  He sighed
heavily while his head rested on the seat.  It was going to be another
Friday, and those seemed to be the most hectic.  He quickly gathered 
his senses, and searched in the large heap of things in his pockets 
for the keys.  

Clink, Clink, Clink.

A smile crossed his face as he heard the familiar sound, and he dug 
down until he felt the cold metal touch his finger tips.  He pulled 
the keys out, and started the car, preparing to drive away.    

He looked out the window to see his wife, Cindy, waving to him.  He 
waved, putting on the sweetest smile he could conjure up, then quickly
drove off.  

It normally only took approximately 20 minutes to get to his work.  
But for some strange reason, the roads seemed to be packed.  He sighed
as he waited in the traffic jam for anything to happen.  ‘My boss is 
going to kill me,’ the thought silently to himself, cursing the cause 
for this entire incident.  He then thought of his secretary.  A sly
grin crossed his face. She had always made it worth it to go to work 
every day.  His wife had never asked why he had always stayed at the 
office late, she never even suspected something going on.  In fact, 
she had made friends with the secretary, and trusted the both of them.

He shook his head at the thought.  She was so oblivious to his actions
out of the house.  In fact, his actions were far from innocent.  Most 
nights, if he wasn’t with his secretary, he would be off in some bar 
hitting on every girl there.  It was like he was a child again.  In 
his early childhood, he decieved girls to get what he wanted, and now 
that he was older, he only learned how to be more sly about it.  

His thoughts came to a halt as he heard the sounds of car horns.  He 
snapped back into reality and realized that the car in front of him 
had finally moved.  Frustrated at the many noises, he quickly sped 
off.  He started to curse under his breath.  His morning was already 
beginning to get bad, and he hadn’t  even reached work yet!  His eyes 
drifted off the road in hopes of finding something to calm his 
headache, but he found nothing.  He hardly saw the yellow light 
directly in front of his vision. 

Shaking his head, he put his eyes back to the road.  His mouth dropped
open, hoping for a sound to come out as his eyes widened.  His feet 
did a delayed reaction of the brake pedal as he saw the car in a 
complete stop in front of him.   He slammed on the brakes, and flew 
from his seat out the window.  Glass shattered everywhere and 
punctured his body, making him scream in agony.  He landed on the roof
of the car and started to slide down, making the particles of glass 
dig into his skin, making him cringe more.  He could hear the metal 
scraping, and feel the tingling in his arms. Blood began to ooze from
his wounds, and it left a bloody streak behind him the more he slid.
He then came to a complete halt on the hood of his car.  His vision 
was blurred, and hot flashes of white pain absorbed him.  

‘Things cant possibly get any worse,’ he thought, trying to gather his
thoughts and hoping someone had called the paramedics.  He looked up 
and realized in horror that his pain was far from over.  The car that
had been shortly behind him crashed into his own, knocking him off the
hood of his car and making him slam to the ground.  It caused extreme
agony, and the glass to dig further into his body.  Dizziness over-
came him as his life flashed before his eyes, and he fell into the 
world of unconsiousness.  

* * * * * *

Peter awoke in a strange, phenomenal place.  He was placed into a small
room that had a red glowing light that appeared to be coming from the
floor.  When he looked closer, he could see that it was fire.  The air
was surprisingly cold, as if the hands of death had touched it.  As a
matter of fact, it had.  He found himself to be tied down to a cold,
metallic table.  It felt rough against his stripped body, and hurt 
incredibly if he dared move. The straps that held his wrists and 
ankles felt as if they were burning off this skin.  He smelled the rot
and decay of the putrid place, and his stomach turned.  

‘Where am I?’  he thought to himself.

“You are in the place where all eternity fears,” a dark voice said, 
interrupting his thoughts.  “You are in the depths of the mines of 
eternal pain and misery.  You, Mister Douglas, are in hell.”  A tall 
hooded man-like beast entered the room.  The cloak he was wearing was 
an old-looking, black piece of cloth.   Peter had never seen anything 
so dark.  It gracefully made a flying motion at each step the thing 
underneath the hood took.  

“Wh-Who are you??” Peter stuttered, fear numbing his entire body.  

“I am an angel of the darkness within your soul.  And you, Peter Douglas,
are now in my grasp.  Prepare yourself for everlasting misery.”  The 
beast then laughed, as if the entire incident was frighteningly funny.
His laugh was a harsh kackle that would have been laughable if it 
weren’t so unfavorable.  

“B-but what did I do to get here??” he said, desperate for a way out.

The demon laughed again, making a cold chill run down  Peter’s spine.
He then turned to a blank wall and rose his hand, making several 
motions with the green, dead looking finger tips.  Several pictures 
appeared on the wall, each of him.  They showed him at the bars, in 
his office, and various other places.  Each with every woman except 
his wife.  “You have cheated on the one you are bound to.  From your 
girlfriend to your wife, you’ve cheated on all of them.  Taken them 
for what they had.  Used them.  You took what they had for granted.  
Now, we will do the same.  We will take the only possession left of 
you....your body.”  The hooded thing then took out a small, shiny 
device.  

When Peter looked closer, he found it to be a small razor.  His eyes 
widened, and all he could do was wonder what was to be done of that 
small piece of metal.  Peter’s eyes were fixed on the blade as the 
unseen beast made it’s way to the trembling man.  

“B-but...I thought hell was suppposed to be forever!”  Peter spat out. 
“If you do this...I....I wont be here! Y-you’ll run out of skin
and-and...then I wont be in pain!”

The devilish thing laugh again. It echoed throughout the room and 
frightened Peter.  He had somehow said something wrong.  

“As I cut, your skin, will slowly and painfully grow back.  This is 
your punishment.  You have done everything to earn this.”  The demon’s
voice was raspy and it hissed out every word. 

The cloaked being moved closer and closer.  It’s cape flowed along, 
sounding much like the howling wind during a storm.  It then reached 
the table where Peter lay.  The demon sat itself down.  The  cloth 
burned an icy flame as it touched Peter’s bare skin, and he did 
everything he could not to yelp out in pain.  

The demon then began to scrape the skin off slowly and carefully.  
Peter closed his eyes as tears of excrutiating pain rolled down his 
cheeks.  He wished it would stop, but he kept hearing the scraping. 
It was as if the demon was trying to taunt him.  Perhaps it was. He 
felt his own blood trickling down from his leg to the table.  It 
dropped down and made a silent tapping sound.  A sound that became 
more rapid. 

He wished and prayed that he would pass out.  That somehow, the agony 
would end.  But he only knew that the only thing he would ever hear for
all eternity was a scraping sound.

His mind tried to escape to pleasant thoughts of his secretary, his 
wife, anyone!  But he only heard their sobs when they had found out 
he cheated on them and used them.  The only memories that were left 
were painful, and the only other thing to do...was to hear the 
scraping.  

SCRAPE SCRAPE SCRAPE.

The End...