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Allen sketch, thought John, wishing he'd bothered to study The Bible more often. This place was certainly a revelation though. He'd never given much thought to Hell before. Who does? After all, no-one really expects to end up there - do they?

People's perceptions of Hell differ, just as their expectations of Heaven. Some even believe this existence to be Hell. Why was it all so misleading and confusing? John didn't even know what brimstone was, but it looked as if he was soon to find out.

To his right, a monstrous rat scurried away with a mouthful of griseous entrails and a hideously disfigured entity tried desperately to remove the worms feeding on its dismembered flesh. On his left were yet more irredeemable souls, lamenting piteously for lives long lost but not forgotten, bearing their anguish to time indefinite. Rattling the chains of their incarceration, they pleaded continuously for release from their everlasting punishment. None came. Instead, more fiend incarnates were sent to persecute them, a constant reminder of the paradise they had forfeited.

There were no redeeming features about this place, it was about as far from St. Peter and the proverbial pearly gates as anyone could get. Wasn't there an old film called: 'Where Angels fear to tread?' John asked himself. Well, there would be no self-respecting seraphim or cherubim found in this unholy place! This was the great divide, a yawning gulf that separated the godly from the wicked.

John's present surroundings made him ponder deeply about his life: I haven't been that sinful have I? Surely I don't deserve to be sent somewhere like this? I'm no saint, admittedly, but I haven't been evil either. Maybe there's a special place for people like me; neither good nor bad. Don't they call it Limbo or something? Yes, I'm sure I'll be let off the hook when it comes to the crunch. Okay, so I've cooked the books now and again at the insurance company where I work and I've cheated on my wife a bit too. But I've always given her my gold card to use whenever she goes shopping to Harvey Nichols - surely that's been more than enough to compensate for a few minor indiscretions?

'For this is your just reward,' the reaper continued with his morbid diatribe, jolting John back to reality as some disembodied spirit started to hover above his head, cackling fiendishly. Perhaps it was Lucifer, the very epitome of evil himself.

Maybe I should try to bargain with him like Dr. Faustus, John wondered. But then he saw

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