Clean to the Bone
He turned on the heater. Ants swarmed out. They ate him clean to the bone. He was rather surprised.
His soul came to a place of judgment, a great black rock. He climbed atop it. Ants swarmed up the rock and devoured his soul. He was surprised again, not least that his soul could feel agonizing pain.
His consciousness returned in a small glade surrounded by deep woods. Centuries-old trees loomed over him. Ants swarmed out from around the nearest tree. Not quite as surprised, he tried to run. They swarmed over him and devoured him anyway.
It was the same when he woke in a remarkably bland office, riding atop a city-sized cat, and walking on the moon. He screamed and ran and rolled and tried scraping them off, but nothing worked. Ants devoured him atop an endless cliff, in the claws of a flying eagle, and floating in the ocean (where they reclaimed surprised by floating up in a big ball). A neon-lit, rain-soaked city street, a wind-swept desert, and in the open mouth of a giant, patient panda bear.
He stopped fighting. The ants didn't stop devouring him. "Maybe life is being devoured by ants," he said.