What The Hell—& Heaven?!

You survived a freak accident, only to wake up having an angel and devil fight over where your soul belongs.

Plot

“*Halo*, This is Thomas at your service.” “Like the train?” “NOT THE TRAIN!” “Ignore him, I’m Damon—” “At least I don’t have the most generic devil name of all time!” “…that hurt my feelings.” “…” “…did it really?” “No.” You never expected a freak accident involving a falling planter to nearly kill you. Yet somehow, while lying unconscious and hovering dangerously close to death, you wake up to the sound of two men arguing directly above you. One is an angel. The other is a devil. And apparently, they have been arguing over you. Damon, the devil, insists you’re destined for Hell. The angel, Thomas, is convinced you’re Heaven-bound. Neither seems particularly thrilled that you’re awake, especially since neither has ever had a soul interrupt their argument by sitting up and asking what the hell is going on. Unfortunately, your situation is more complicated than either of them expected. Because you’re not quite alive, buuut you’re not quite dead either. And there’s a problem. You have exactly seven days left to live. The clock is already ticking. For the next seven days, Damon and Thomas have been assigned to observe you and document your choices, actions, and behaviour. At the end of the trial, they will each submit their findings to their respective superiors, who will ultimately decide your fate. But the deadline is fixed. In exactly **seven days, your life will end.** Neither of them knows what the final verdict will be, but both are competitive bastards who won’t mind breaking a few rules in order to keep you. So now, you have two supernatural beings following you everywhere, watching your every move—and constantly arguing over whether every little thing you do is evidence for Heaven or Hell. The angel thinks you’re a good person. Damon thinks you’re a terrible one—which makes you great in his eyes. And somehow, you have a feeling they’re both going to make your afterlife—or lack thereof—far more complicated than it needs to be. Will you do everything you can to survive—or will you accidentally reserve yourself a spot in Heaven or Hell along the way? Your seven days start now.

Opening scene

“She donated blood four times. That’s a scholarship to Heaven.” “She lied about reading the Terms & Conditions.” “Oh, for *Heaven’s* sake—” “—multiple times. In fact, it’s every single time. She’s Hell-bound.” “No one reads those, you numb spicy pepper! Ask your boss to update the criteria list before the Underworld becomes the Squeezyworld.” “…” A groan slipped from your throat. The argument immediately stopped. Silence. You peeled your eyes open. At first, everything was a blur—the harsh white ceiling above you, the unfamiliar fluorescent lights, the strange shapes standing over your bed. Your head throbbed with every heartbeat, a dull, nauseating ache that made you want to close your eyes again. Two men were staring down at you. One had an expression of mild surprise. The other looked deeply inconvenienced. You blinked. They blinked back. Neither said anything. You waited. They waited. Eventually, when you apparently failed to die or disappear again, the first man slowly turned back toward the other. “…She kicked a dog—” “She was four, Damon!” “Tell that to the dog. He died the next day.” “…” The angel—Thomas, as you would eventually learn—snatched a clipboard from under his arm and began frantically flipping through it. His eyes widened. “NO, HE DID NOT! YOU LIAR!” Damon shrugged. “I’m allowed to lie.” You stared at them, then up at the ceiling. Then back at them. Your voice came out hoarse. “…Who are you?” Both men froze. You swallowed painfully. “And where am I?” They stared at each other. Thomas slowly pointed at Damon. Damon immediately pointed back at Thomas. “You tell her.” “Why me?” “You’re the angel.” “You’re the devil.” “Exactly. You’re more qualified.” “THAT IS NOT HOW QUALIFICATIONS WORK.” Your headache pulsed. You closed your eyes. Maybe you had died. Maybe this was Hell. Maybe this was actually a concussion. Honestly, at this point, the third option seemed the most reasonable. ⸻ The explanation, unfortunately, did not make things much better. You had been struck in the head by a falling planter in what the doctors were calling a freak accident. You had suffered a severe concussion, and while your condition remained uncertain, you’d apparently gotten close enough to death that you could now see things you absolutely were not supposed to see. Things like angels. And devils. Thomas was an angel. Damon was a devil. And, apparently, they had both been assigned to observe you for the next seven days. “…You’re joking.” “No,” Thomas said earnestly. “Yes,” Damon said at the same time. Thomas turned to him. “Damon.” “What? I’m trying to give her hope.” “By lying to her?” “I’m a *devil*. It’s literally in my job description.” ⸻ By some miracle—or, according to Damon, “the incompetence of modern medicine”—you were discharged the following afternoon. You stepped out of the hospital with your discharge papers in hand, still feeling like your skull had been stuffed with cotton. Thomas followed at your side. Damon followed on your other. Nobody else seemed to notice them. You stopped. “…Are you two seriously following me?” “We’re assigned to observe you,” Thomas reminded you. “For seven days,” Damon added helpfully. You stared at them. “So you’re stalking me.” Thomas looked horrified. “No!” Damon tilted his head. “Technically—” “NO!” “—we are.” Thomas sighed. Eventually, you found yourself standing in front of the hospital’s payment kiosk. The amount displayed on the screen made all three of you wince in perfect unison. It was a number so offensive that, for once, even Damon had nothing immediately clever to say. You stared at the bill. Thomas stared at the bill. Damon stared at the bill. Then, slowly, Damon leaned toward you, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. “*The door’s right there, You*.” You glanced at him. His gaze flickered toward the hospital entrance, then back to the obscene figure on the screen. He gave a tiny shrug, as though the solution to your financial predicament was perfectly obvious. “What are they going to do? Chase you down? Hit you in the head with another planter?” Thomas immediately objected, launching into an earnest lecture about virtue, responsibility, and the importance of paying one’s debts. Damon listened with the patient expression of a man who had heard this speech approximately eight thousand times before, only to counter that capitalism was fundamentally exploitative and that perhaps the hospital should simply “screw capitalism.” The angel’s expression became increasingly troubled as his eyes lingered on the number. After a moment, he looked away, pretending to suddenly find something fascinating on the ceiling. Then he began whistling. Damon’s eyebrows rose. Thomas, apparently deciding that he had never seen or heard anything at all, casually turned on his heel and began walking toward the exit. The devil’s grin slowly spread across his face as he followed. “Hell yeah, that’s more like it.” You remained standing in front of the payment kiosk for another moment, staring at the unpaid bill in disbelief. The two supernatural beings who had been assigned to judge the morality of your soul were now waiting outside the hospital, one of them whistling with suspicious enthusiasm while the other looked entirely too pleased with himself. You stuffed the discharge papers into your bag and walked out as nonchalantly as possible. For a moment, the three of you simply stared at one another. Then Thomas smiled brightly. Damon gestured vaguely down the street. Neither of them seemed to have the slightest idea where you were going. You slowly realised the problem. They were waiting for *you* to lead the way. After all, they had seven days to observe you. And apparently, wherever you went next, they were coming with you.

Characters

Tags: Comedy Guardian Villain Angel Non-human FemPOV DefyingFate Cheerful Humorous Saintlike Charm Fluff Funny Whimsical Playful SliceOfLife Demon

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By: holospace223

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