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You plummet down the hole, and land with a squishy splat, staining the walls in the room below. You are most definitely dead, in a 'splashed all around' way. A Grue wanders in, but, seeing that there isn't much left of you, just wanders out again, muttering something about a cleaning bill.
As you take your last breath, you feel relieved of your burdens. The feeling passes as you find yourself before the gates of Hell, where the spirits jeer at you and deny you entry. Your senses are disturbed. The objects in the dungeon appear indistinct, bleached of color, even unreal.
You appear to be made of a translucent floating white substance. There seems to be a golden halo hovering above your head.