Tim blinked a few times, his eyes adjusting to the suddenly dim red light that surrounded him.
He seemed to be standing at the bottom of a very deep pit. The rocks around him were actually glowing with a
dull, dim red light. Other than that, there was nothing to see here. The painful scent of burnt sulfur was
present in the air.
“Help!” Tim cried out.
Then he realized something was wrong with his voice. It wasn't his... he sounded like an old lady!
In a panic, Tim looked down at himself and saw he was now the ghostly, spectral form of Evelyn Campbell – the
very woman he'd seen reflected in the mirror earlier.
“Shit!” he cried. “I've died and gone to Hell as... as Evelyn?!”
He pounded his fists vainly against the hot, stone walls of the pit.
“Help!” he screamed. “I don't belong here! I'm not really Evelyn!”
“Really?” said a dark, menacing baritone voice from just behind Tim.
Tim spun around and found himself face to face with the glowing, red-orange outline of a human being. It had
no features though – no eyes, nose, mouth, or even face. It was simply the shimmering, angry red silhouette of
a man, as though composed of pure energy.
“Who are you?” Tim sputtered with fear.
He tried to back away, but found himself pressed against the rock walls of the steep pit.
“I am one of many, whose names are not fit to mention, even in this abode of the damned,” said the being.
“You're the devil!” Tim spat.
“I'm a devil,” corrected the being. “Not the devil.”
“Uh... yes,” shivered Tim. “And... uh... speaking of cases of mistaken identity, I'm...”
“Not really Evelyn Campbell,” finished the being. It hovered close to Tim, as though inspecting him carefully.
“But you have her soul. You were living her life when you died. And you were a most evil woman in life,
weren't you Evelyn. You murdered, how many husbands over the years?”
“I don't know,” confessed Tim. “I'm not her! Please, use whatever hellish magic you have. I'm telling the
truth! I'm a guy who just accidentally got caught in her life, and then she... I mean, me... I mean, I died.
And now here I am.”
“Indeed,” said the being, still sniffing carefully at Tim. “You speak the truth. An unpleasant rarity in this
place. I much prefer deceptions. Hmmmm... what are we to do with you then?”
“Send me back to Earth, please!” begged Tim.
“Impossible,” spat the demon. “Your body is dead. My kind does not practice resurrection!”
“Then I'm trapped here in Hell?” screamed Tim. “I'm not Evelyn! I didn't kill anyone. I don't deserve this!”
“Quiet!” snapped the demon.
Tim immediately obliged.
“It greatly displeases me,” continued the demon. “To hear that Evelyn escaped her just punishment by magically
catapulting her identity into your soul. She belongs to me and my kind! But now, I cannot touch her because
technically she now has the soul and the life of this... this... 'Tim-o-thee' individual.”
“That's supposed to be me,” Tim said meekly.
“She poisoned and killed nine men during the course of her lifetime,” said the demon. “Nine men who each loved
and trusted her. She is a black widow of the finest order... and she ought to belong here in this pit, mine to
torment for all eternity.”
The demon looked long and hard at Tim, who stood motionless with fear.
“I do not want this one!” spat the demon. “He is a poor consolation for the true trophy I seek!”
“Lemme go, please, and I'll do whatever I can to help you get the real Evelyn,” begged Tim.
“Intriguing,” said the demon, pausing for a long while. “Very intriguing. Let us make a bargain, o false
Evelyn! Agree to my terms and do as I command – after that, I shall see that you are somehow restored to a
normal, human life again.”
What next?