The old priest smiled and raised his hands to the sky. “They come for me now, my followers! My chariot of fire, come to take me up to heaven!” The crowd gathered at the sandaled feet of the old man and looked up at the sky in awe as a bright dot appeared and then grew, its light soaring through the sky to illuminate the priest’s balding head. He held his right arm up in benediction and smiled. “I leave you now, my flock, but you are in good hands! My altar boy will serve you well, and you now know all you need to know. I shall see you when Heaven descends again to meet the Earth!”
The priest closed his eyes and again lifted up his arms. The column of light struck him head-on, and the pillar of brightness soon became too much for most men to look at. As the crowd shielded their eyes, the pillar expanded and then contracted. The light soon began to dim, and the crowd again turned their eyes to it. They all saw a humanoid shadow in the center of the column begin to rise up along the column of light, gaining speed as it ascended higher and higher. Some even fancied they could see a hand raised in benediction.
The altar boy, though, standing to the side of the column, could see into its heart with eyes unclouded. He saw the light for what it truly was: the small bodies of millions of tiny, tittering, winged imps, glowing with a foul inner light. They had soared down from the sky and surrounded his mentor, clawing his limbs and tearing his clothes. Their bodies were deformed and hideous, their eyes too many and their limbs multitudinous. An insane glee manifested on their faces as they dragged the terrified priest up into the sky.
The altar boy alone could see the terror reflected on his master’s face as he was taken away from the earth, faster and faster, by those terrible winged things, up into a realm of eternal torment. As the crowd marveled at the priest’s ascension, the altar boy despaired. He had not ascended – he had been dragged up to Hell! But who would believe a mere altar boy?