Jesus Heaven, Unbelief Hell

To the readers. This story can be crude, intense, and quite offensive to the deeply religious.

When I woke, it was with a strange feeling of liberation, as if I had finally crawled out of a deep swamp. I was lying in my own prison-like room as usual.

All that alcohol had left a tingling sensation all the way to the inside of my neck. As I got up, I noticed my smartphone lying on the floor.

The LCD screen was cracked halfway through, so I did feel a flash of regret, but that went away quickly. What’s the big deal about cracking your smartphone screen?

However, when I habitually pressed the touchpad, it didn’t turn on, leaving me a bit embarrassed. Then I found that the battery was dead, so I had been worrying for nothing.

Anyway, alcohol had become somewhat of a problem of mine. Be it a dinner party or a reception, I used to always be the one to take care of the others until the very end, but lately, my frequency of getting drunk seemed to have increased a bit.

I had nothing other than myself to take care of, and there was enough in the bank to play around like a beast for a year or two. So, drinking like an unbridled foal was a natural result.

“Ugh… I can’t even remember how much I drank yesterday.”

Did I hit five mugs of draft beer at my usual pub? Or did hit somebody with a beer mug?

My memories felt like threads tangled up into a skein. Just trying to remember threatened to trigger another headache, so I shook my head lightly.

I hadn’t checked the time yet, but judging by the red sunset outside, it should have been somewhere between 5 and 6 pm.

The daily routine of eating, drinking and waking up the evening without knowing when you’ll be leaving the world behind. It’s like a paradise that an ordinary member of society could never dream of.

I decided to have a bit of alcohol with some soup[1] to get my neck sorted out. But the moment I opened the refrigerator to grab some ramen, I had to pinch my nose at the overwhelming stench that billowed out.

“Kahah! Cough! Kuhk!”

For a moment, it reminded me of my first CBRN[2] training in the army, and I turned my head to retch.

My body felt devoid of moisture like the dry cracked ground during a drought, so I expected not a single drop to come out, not even tear or snot, but somehow, a lot poured out.

“Fuck, really…what the hell.”

Holding my nose, I looked into the stinky refrigerator and found that all the food inside was badly packaged and rotten.

If you looked at the chicken, only a few pieces of leg or lean meat had been gnawed, with the rest left around haphazardly. The kimchi pot had its lid open. Leftover convenience store kimbap, bread, and mouldy milk completed the collection.

“Oh, man, fuck. I was really three sheets to the wind, huh?”

The sequence of events was obvious from just one look. I, dead drunk, had stopped by on my way home to buy a bunch of snacks, ate some when I got home, and then threw the rest into the refrigerator without tidying up.

I picked up a bottle of water that looked okay, and slammed the refrigerator door. I’d have to pack it all into a garbage bag later to throw away.

“Gulp, gulp… Whoa!”

How could chilled plain water from a bottle taste so sweet?

Like a man who found an oasis while trudging through the heart of a desert, I frantically guzzled down all the water in the 1.5-litre bottle in one shot.

It was true what they said, if you have salty food with alcohol before sleeping, your body will get very dehydrated.

However, just one 1.5-litre bottle of water was not enough, so I grabbed another bottle of lukewarm water from a pile of boxes at the corner of my living room. I ordered large quantities of bottled water each month, so those boxes kept piling up in the house.

“Gulp, gulp, gulp, gulp.”

Another bottle of mineral water was emptied without hesitation, and then I could finally feel my thirst quench a little.

As I got my fill, the fatigue disappeared as if all the water had washed it away. I went straight to the bathroom and stood in front of the sink.

As expected, my recent lifestyle, which had resembled an animal for the past few days, was objectively unreasonable.

The hair, which used to be neatly organized like an office worker, turned into a messy mop, and since I hadn’t shaved, the beard was sparsely forming the shape of a black forest.

Even if I didn’t feel tired anymore, dark circles had formed like flowing water under my eyes. The hazy irises were so empty that even if you looked closely, you couldn’t feel much of a sign of life.

“When you play, even if you’re having fun, you have to do it like a human…”

To refresh my mind, I rinsed my body with cold water, starting from the head.

Finally, after I finished shaving and saw my clean face again in the mirror, I still felt uncomfortable because my eyes still didn’t seem clear enough.

Maybe it’s time for some eye drops?

By the time I finished grooming, it was sunset and night was already falling. At this kind of time ramen with alcohol seemed too plain, so I prepared to go out.

‘A glass of soju with some hot soup? Or maybe some Chinese bamboo shoots?’

A chilly autumn wind blew as I left the house, thinking that anything would be better than seafood ramen cooked by a single man.

It is said that in autumn, even those who hate the animal called a man become romantics, and I walked down the street enjoying the autumn wind that fluttered along my thin jacket.

As it is, you can take a city bus to the downtown area, or take the subway to visit restaurants that open in the evening.

Or do you want to pretend being crazy and have fun running today?

I had been looking for a light drink over hot food when I left the house, but the chilly night wind outside changed my mind.

It’s not like my mood is fickle like a reed blowing in the wind, I just thought I might have trouble controlling my excitement, and my recent animalistic habits weren’t encouraging.

In the end, the place I ended up at was an underground bar in a certain shopping mall, that only people in the know were familiar with.

It was one of the secondary places that I’d carefully researched and selected, for hosting high-ranking people who preferred drinking in quiet luxury.

The popular image of a cocktail bar is a place with a strange atmosphere, where young men and women hunt for companionship while sipping colourful cocktails. But in reality, the more hidden the bar, the fewer you’d see such customers.

This bar had a first-class ambience, with a quiet and calming air, lit softly, playing mellow tunes. A place devoted to mental and physical peace.

To describe it in a good way, it was an adult cafe (selling alcohol) for those with a predilection for luxury, and to say it in a bad way, it was a bar full of bastards who liked the gloomy atmosphere.

As I went down the stairs to the underground shopping and opened the bar door, I was greeted by its usual unique atmosphere.

However, unlike the usual, there were very few customers. At most, only a couple of men in black, sitting on the bar stools in front of the bartender.

I couldn’t just turn back and leave, so I simply sat down at a reasonable distance and called the bartender.

“A mojito and something light to go with that, please.”

The bartender, who’d been cleaning the glass, approached me with a stiff face and glanced at the two men sitting at the other side.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m not a guy who’d complain about the taste of alcohol just because someone eats something at the same bar.”

Oh, was the bartender asking for pardon because the other guests might get disturbed if they smelled the food? It was my fault for not apologizing in the first place.

Belatedly realizing my disrespect, I also bowed my head towards the two.

The older man, probably in his fifties and wearing thin-rimmed glasses, looked at me, then turned back to the young man sitting next to him.

Did I wait like that for ten or so minutes?

A glass of mojito was served in front of me, along with a typical Western meal of browned toast, eggs and bacon.

As I gobbled up the meal with the speed of a crab closing its eyes in the south wind[3], I tasted the refreshing and bittersweet mojito.

As I wet my tongue with the mojito, which was slightly sweet but still had the unique taste of alcohol, I slowly began to drink in earnest.

By the time I was about to call the bartender to try a Black Russian, which can be called a proper drink for adults, I was feeling something boiling inside.

Was it just because of suddenly gorging on oily food and alcohol on an empty stomach? I wasn’t raised that weak, though.

“A Black Russian.”

With a simple recipe made up of only vodka and kahlua, this cocktail boasted a much more intense and intuitive taste.

As it did not contain any milk, tonic water or juice, it was said to be perfect for people who enjoy a strong and deep taste, instead of softness.

The gentleman who used to drink this knew much more about cocktails than me, so even though I didn’t really want to listen, I still picked up many scraps of knowledge from him while drinking together. This was one I remembered.

The bartender approached me again with a hardened face and looked at the other customers once more, placing the cocktail in front of me.

“The Black Russian you ordered.”

The black cocktail served with ice in a wide and squat rocks glass seemed to tempt one into drinking.

Alcohol cannot be the answer to life, but it can be a shelter.

I used to see those souses who drank without thinking as fools who abused their future and their livers just to enjoy some fleeting pleasure, but in reality, there’s nothing better than this.

Drinking makes you happy, so why abstain? That’s just stupid.

“Gulp, gulp. Whoa!”

I, who wasn’t the crazy one here, finished the Black Russian in two sips. Immediately I had to let out a hot breath as I felt the bubbling inside me.

My throat was tingling and my stomach was burning, so the heat didn’t go away, but at the same time, I felt like I was floating with a tingling sensation all over my skin.

Hot. Hot. So hot that I think I might burn up.

“Okay, uhhhh… umm?!”

“You held up for quite a while.”

I turned my head in amazement at the same gentlemanly, British voice which I had heard earlier.

At some point, the two men in black had moved to stand behind me, side by side, looking down at me.

“This… what?”

“Amazing. Normally the demon-possessed[4] avoid any food or drink with even a little bit of holy water mixed in, but you drank two full glasses. Are you not aware of yourself?”

“What kind of bullshit… uh, huh!”

“Aren’t you feeling like you want to empty out everything you’ve got inside right now? Or do you want to rip off the clothes you’re wearing?”

“Oohhhooohhh…”

“Master, could I borrow your break room?”

“Of course, Father. There’s a lounge for just the regulars inside. Please use it.”

Why is the bartender talking to them so naturally as if they’re well-acquainted? Is this guy a priest? Why are they looking for the break room? Maybe they’re perverts who prefer taking it in the ass?

“Let’s take him, Johann.”

“Yes.”

The young man named Johann draped some kind of pale violet or purple cloth over my body and started dragging me away.

With a flash of anger, I tried to put some strength into my fists, but my arms drooped down like a puppet with its strings broken.

Seeing me grunt as I was being dragged, the older heavyset man grabbed my head and pressed it down.

To my surprise, my head easily lolled downwards.

“Don’t struggle in vain.”

Editor’s Notes:

[1] 해장 is the habit of drinking a little alcohol with soup before breakfast to get over hangover.

[2] CBRN = Chemical, biological, radiological and nuclear

[3] 마파람에 게눈 감추듯 (lit. crab’s eye closing in the south wind) is a proverb for eating food very quickly. See the context.

[4] 부마자 means possessed by a demon, needing to be exorcised.