The bomb exploded. He was elated. He would finally reach his dream destination. How he had imagined paradise would be like!
The garden of perpetual bliss - surrounded by eight principal gates, each level being divided into a hundred degrees. . Oh how blissfully he would be greeted by angels with salutations of PEACE! Palaces made from bricks of gold, silver, pearls, among other things. Beautiful trees and mountains made of musk, between which rivers flow in valleys of pearl and ruby.
He finally reached his destination. He saw tortures of the Fire: flames that crackle and roar; fierce, boiling waters, scorching wind, and black smoke, roaring and boiling as if it would burst with rage. It was the same fire with which he killed many innocents. Its wretched inhabitants sigh and wail, their scorched skins are constantly exchanged for new ones so that they can taste the torment anew, drink festering water and though death appears on all sides they cannot die.
It was not how he had imagined paradise would be like. He was not in Heaven; he was in Hell.