Tommy was a warrior. He wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but he knew enough to get him the grades needed to pass at least high school. In lieu of his smarts, he worked out, perfected shooting, and could take apart, clean, and put back together almost any rifle put in front of him.

Naturally, he became a soldier.

And was sent to the big sandbox, where he became legend.

Tommy’s one point of fame was that he was called the Demon but the terrorists trying to take over the region. Tommy felled over a thousand combatants until finally they brought him down. Tommy was smug as hell as he saw that to kill him, they needed a main battle tank. Which was, along with the rest of the block, promptly crushed by a predator drone loitering overhead.

Tommy didn’t go to heaven.

Or hell. Much to his annoyance.

Instead, Tommy went to Valhalla. Which also annoyed him. While Tommy wasn’t the saintliest man, he was a practicing Christian, and expected to join heaven by way of being some sort of modernized crusader, since, the combatants were enemies of God.

But no, Odin got him.

No matter for Tommy, because Valhalla was almost as good. Valhalla was for the warriors, and they got to fight, feast, and well, a vulgar word that starts with ‘f’, forever in the realm of Valhalla.

Tommy was impressed by all the denizens of the Valhalla. Everyone was a ‘warrior’ of some descript. Modern, classic, and ancient. He found soldiers from World War 2, hoplites from Marathon, eagle runners with sixty plus captives to their name, and even a few civil rights leaders. The concept of ‘warrior’ was someone who fought and fought well, which applied to combat and other abstract things like injustice.

But, Bob.

Everyone Tommy met had a fighting spirit. That was something he noted. It didn’t matter if you fought for you family, or because you were conscripted to war, or refused to stand up and go to the back of the bus. Yes, she went to Valhalla too.

But, Bob.

Bob was no warrior. He had no fighting spirit. Bob was a small, frail, meek man, who jumped at shadows and snapping twigs. He couldn’t even lift more than forty pounds on a good day. Whenever there was a minor dispute (and yes, conflict still happened in Valhalla), Bob wouldn’t bother to contest anything and immediately ceded all ground.

So why Bob was here, the afterlife of warriors, instead of some other place. Heaven was likely a better place for Bob for whatever his old life did for his afterlife Karma.

Tommy kept time of the timeless afterlife. Years after he died and stepped foot to Valhalla, he was walking with Odin in His hall. He saw Bob and asked Odin what was Bob’s story.

“Bob? You want to know about Bob?”

“Yes, Lord. I see that Valhalla is the afterlife for people who fought well. Warriors. Everyone here is a warrior. They have muscles, dexterity, or mechanical knowhow. Most were felled in combat. Others stood their ground against regimes. And so, when they died, they came here instead of another place.

“But, Bob. He has nothing that compares to any other person here.”

Odin smiled.

“Bob is actually one of the greatest warriors I’ve ever met. True, he’s no fighter. He couldn’t wield a knife to save his life. He was shot to death. Over fifty bullet holes of various sizes ranging from nine millimeters to a two-centimeter monstrosity mounted on a tank.”

“And that was why he went to Valhalla?” Tommy was aghast.

“Oh no, no, no, no. Bob went to Valhalla for a different reason altogether. Normally, Bob would have gone to Heaven to defeating one of the greatest evils in the history of Mankind. He was once a practicing Christian, after all. No matter what you do after you stop practicing, Heaven is willing to take you back if you’re a good person.

“But Bob was also a lawyer. And lawyers have no soul, according to both Heaven and Hell. Normally then, Hell would take him.”