The Man Who Was Too Mediocre
Frank had always done his job the right way, finished his work on time. He had never gotten into arguments and had gone to church every Sunday.
So he was not expecting to hear what Peter told him.
"Such an unpleasant situation. I'm afraid I cannot allow you to pass. It pains me to have to send you Below, but I have no choice. This place is reserved for the best of your kind. Yahweh's rules. I'm truly sorry."
And then Frank felt his phantom limbs leave the ground as he plunged towards Hell at the speed of light. He felt his soul stringed and stretched like melted cheese, like a light wave being sucked into a black hole.
Then darkness. He was still now, though he felt no ground beneath him. He could sense only emptiness around him.
Suddenly, from the void, a voice spoke to him. It was deeper than anything meant to be heard by human ears, but the voice penetrated him and resonated through every fiber of his soul. Every word seemed to last an eternity.
"You do not belong here.
This is a place reserved for the worst among you.
You carry no evil, no hatred.
No fears to feed from, nor any hopes or dreams to drain you of.
I have no use for you.
Be gone."
And so rejected from both Heaven and Hell, Frank was left to wander through the spiritual realm. He journeyed for thousands of years, searching every corner of limbo for a place to rest his soul.
He encountered Anubis,Thoth, and Ammut, and they judged him and weighed his heart.
But they could neither welcome him nor condemn him, for his heart contained nothing inside of it and was lighter than the feather, Maat. Thoth had never recorded an event like that before.
He met The Enlightened One, who meditated in empathy for Frank.
But Frank could not be reincarnated, for the way he had led his life had not been good, but it had not been bad either, so any new manifestation of Frank could not be anything greater or worse than himself. And coming back as your past self is prohibited for mortals.
Enlightenment was even more out of the question.
He reached the bank of the River Styx but did not have a single obol to pay for passage, so Charon could not let him step foot on his ferry.
He tried to become a ghost, but even that he could not be, for any mortal must have a strong purpose in life in order to remain attached to the physical plane.
So, aimlessly he wandered for many more centuries, barely existing as little more than a long lost memory. It was not much different than how he had existed in his physical form, and Frank realized he didn't mind limbo so much after all. Limbo was not good, but it wasn't bad either.
And that suited Frank just fine.