Chapter 11: Interlude: Afterlife, Pt. 1

  While the flames eating through his very bones had long since consumed his nerves and skin, the phantom pain Erik experienced was enough to make him scream. It overwhelmed his senses, so much so that he didn’t notice being somewhere cool and airy, the very opposite of the infernal heat from just a second earlier.

  Safe from the heat and with a newly reformed mouth, he heard his own screaming voice.

  “Violent… Check!”

  The voice acted like a stop-gap for Erik’s panicking mind, his brain realising that there was no more blazing fire, no sound of crackling wood, no piercing scream of a loving mother. He opened his eyes, finding them having grown back after melting down his cheek only moments ago.

  In front of him was a small, brightly lit reception desk filled with two neat stacks of paper, a smaller potted plant and a small rectangular box next to a small inkwell. Behind the desk stood a man with a gentle smile that looked more practised than well-meaning.

  “What? Who are you?” Erik burst after a few seconds had passed. “Where am I?”

  “Peon #23, Paperwork Division of New Arrivals. I simply deduced that your death had a violent cause and took the initiative to start filling out the form. Saves you some time, right?” the man said, keeping his practised smile the entire sentence.

  It was eerily fake, but Erik would take it.

  The man was somewhat sharply dressed, in a rather discount-priced way and his eyes looked almost as dead as his smile. The joke about his name aside, this was a customer rep.

  While recent memories of fire nagged at the back of Erik’s mind, just out of reach to him, Erik analysed the man’s words more closely. He mentioned death, right?

  “What’s that about my death you so casually brought up?” Erik asked though he felt he already knew the answer. It was obvious really, but some part of him was still clinging to the hope of life. It wasn’t that he didn’t remember, but he… what was it? He couldn’t be bothered?

  “Right, yes. One of those,” the man started, straightening his back. He continued with a most formal and practised tone. “I regret to inform you, dear arrival, that you have recently lost your all-too-precious life. As such, I, Insert Name, am here to help you through this most difficult of times and to guide you forward so that you may one day soon look back at your life on its plane and be happy that you have started on a new journey here at Place.”

  “Not even trying, huh? I’m sure you could’ve at least filled in one of those blanks?” Erik asked, finding at least some humour in the well-practised, yet still awful welcoming speech. The peon’s eyebrow raised a little. Maybe he was impressed?

  “I apologise, but no one cares anymore. You are dead, and this is Afterlife,” he said, gesturing to everything around him with both his arms. “As a Remnant, you’re here by an incredible circumstance and nothing else. Anyway, it isn’t my job to tell you any of this, and as such, I won’t. Name?”

  “I’m not telling you shit before you start making sense, Peon 35.”

  While the irritatingly polite face of Peon had helped Erik calm down after a mildly horrific and painful death, now it was just starting to infuriate him again. Erik felt he could remain calm in the worst of circumstances, but this was his life they were talking about. He wanted answers.

  “Listen, bro… I just fill out the forms. All the explanations, emotions and politically correct babble and nonsense comes later. So can we fill out this form so you can cry later?”

  That fucking smile.

  “Erik Fried,” Erik relented.

  “Age?”

  A remarkably small number of questions later, Peon Some-number-or-other opened the double doors and showed Erik to the next room. The room was identical to the one he was in, except there was a pair of double doors on two opposite sides and the reception desk had instead replaced the vase and plant on one side of the room.

  A twinned man to Peon sat behind the desk in the next room and rose when Erik entered. The second man nodded in greeting to Peon as Peon shut the doors behind Erik, staying behind in his own room.

  “Welcome! Welcome! I’m Peon #15 of the Frequently Asked Questions Division of New Arrivals! I’m here to help you come to terms with your new reality of deadness! Spoiler alert! It’s very much the same as liveness!” the new Peon shouted with gusto,

  “So… There are more of you?” Erik asked. He found it intriguing that these men, who looked like twins, seemed to be numbered at least as high as twenty-seven. What number had the first one been again?

  “Oh, yes! There is at least one Peon for every division in every branch of Afterlife!” the new Peon said, still almost shouting, but keeping a polite smile all the same.

  “Can you maybe… tone it down some?”

  “Yes! Oh… Yes, I can. Sorry,” the Peon said, starting out just the same as before, but pulling it back straight away.

  “Great. So you’re here to answer any questions I may have about this place and the minor issue regarding my death?” Erik asked, walking to the side of the double doors he had emerged from and leaned back against the wall.

  “Indeed. I will answer your questions to the best of my ability,” the Peon, now speaking like a normal person, answered.

  “Can I leave this place?”

  “Well, any Remnant coming to Afterlife can only stay for three months. After that time has passed, they will be violently expelled back to their world, unless they go through the portal voluntarily. The reason for this is simple - Afterlife is a rest stop of sorts. You die and come here. Here you will awaken to your innate cosmic power before going back home, hopefully willingly.”

  “Wait… Back home? To do what, exactly? I’m dead. Am I supposed to haunt people, or something?” Erik asked, already sensing that for every answer he got, he’d get several new questions to ask. What was that about cosmic power?

  “Well, that’s up to you. As a Remnant, you-”

  “Stop. What’s a Remnant?”

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  When his mind was too muddled to consider any more questions, Erik was sent out of the room with Peon-some-number-or-other and into an unending-looking hallway. It was dull and grey and undecorated, though it had those same potted plants as the previous rooms all along the walls. An identical set of doors was placed evenly spread out as far as the eye could see.

  Supposedly, if the last Peon could be trusted, Erik was a Remnant, someone descended from an ancient magical bloodline long since lost to the universe. There were several kinds of Remnants based on their bloodlines, even. The most common according to the Peon were vampires and werewolves. Sure, it sounded a bit fantastical, but Erik’s vivid memory of dying in a scorching hellfire just a few moments earlier made it all seem plausible somehow.

  He spent more time walking down the unending hallway than he had spent with the two Peons in total and when he finally saw an end to it ahead, a set of doors opened to the side. He’d expected more traffic in such a large place, but even just one person was enough to calm his nerves a bit. The fact that it was a young woman roughly his own age didn’t make matters worse.

  Her hair was dark brown, and she wore a black hoodie and black-and-white striped tights. The hoodie, far too big for the regular-sized woman, reached down to the middle of her thighs covering any other pieces of clothing she might’ve worn except her also black-and-white shoes. Her hair was neatly braided into one large braid, the length of which laid limp over her hood and reached the middle of her back.

  Erik called out to her, and she turned to face him with a questioning stare. She didn’t respond.

  “Hey!” he tried again.

  No response. “Fine. Habla Spanish, then?”

  The girl’s lips thinned as she started to snicker to herself.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, probably for ignoring him the first few times. “I’m a bit bummed about the whole dying part. My name’s Jessie,” she added.

  “It’s okay. I’m sorry for your loss?” Erik shrugged and attempted a friendly smile.

  Jessie chuckled. “Thanks. So, what are you? Wolfman or Dracula?” she asked, gesturing to keep going down the hallway along with her.

  “Not sure yet. Do you know?” Erik responded.

  “Witch, maybe? So the story in our family goes, at least. We supposedly come from a long line of witches.”

  “Well, if the Peons are to be trusted then our bloodlines are probably ancient.”

  “I guess you’re right, yeah. So I retract my previous statement; I come from a frickin’ long line of witches,” she corrected.

  The pair joined each other down the long hall. With the introductions out of the way, Erik found the girl easy to talk to, almost remarkably so. They seemed to share the same sense of humour, they both enjoyed video games and they even started teasing each other before reaching the end of the hall. There, two Peons stood waiting for them.

  “Mr. Fried?”

  “Miss Callum?”

  The two Peons spoke in unison like the creepy puppets they seemed to be, the left one calling for Erik, and the right one for Jessie.

  “Well, I guess we’ll see each other later. Good luck!” Erik said, and followed his Peon through a door.

  As soon as the door closed behind him, Erik realised he didn’t know if they would see each other again. They were both going to be there for three months, but he didn’t know if they would be around other people for that time.

  “So, is this the genetic test to see what kind of Remnant I am?” Erik asked, looking around.

  Now that he had come to expect the same vase, plant, and desk, this dark, undecorated tiny hallway felt eerily out of place. A single door was opened from the other side as he approached the end of the ten metre or so long hallway and he walked through it. The only thing he noticed whilst walking through was a slight tingle, though he didn’t know what caused it.

  The Peon behind him didn’t seem to talk much, though that was more a blessing than a curse at this point. Another Peon greeted him on the other side, this one carrying a stone slab as if it was a digital tablet.

  “I have your test results, Mr Fried,” the newest Peon said, gesturing at the slab with his head.

  Was there some kind of scanning system built into the walls of this specific hallway?

  “You are a-” he started, then halted. It wasn’t so much that he stopped talking, but he stopped entirely. Stopped breathing, stopped moving, stopped… everything.

  “Yes…?” Erik asked.

  A hole in the wall beside the paused Peon formed from nothing, almost like a portal in movies or video games. A new face ducked out head first, this one not resembling any of the other Peons thus far.

  “Mr… Fried?” the man asked, looking at the palm of his hand. Even in death, Erik sighed.

  “It’s pronounced freed,” he responded, but nodded yes.

  “Of course, my apologies. Please, follow me.”

  Erik stepped through the hole in the wall with only slight hesitation, but at this point, what would surprise him? As suddenly as his face entered the missing piece of wall did an office appear in front of him. Erik raised his eyes at the sight.

  It had more than two different decorations, it had a splash of colour, it even had a small refrigerator in one corner. A couple of brown glass bottles in one of the corners was all Erik could see in there. This guy had style. He was likely part of the upper echelon of this place, considering his office.

  “So, Mr Fried. As you probably guessed, this is about your bloodline test,” the man started.

  “The small hallway was some sort of scanner?” Erik interrupted.

  “Quite right. Listen… The results…”

  The guy seemed a bit unaccustomed to the situation. Erik figured something might’ve gone wrong when this guy had stopped the Peon to talk to Erik himself, but this guy didn’t even know what to say right now. Was it bad? Maybe this had all been some kind of mistake. Was that possible? Jessie’s family supposedly had stories about these things, that she came from a family of witches, but this was all new to Erik. None of his departed family members had risen from the grave as far as he knew. Maybe he wasn’t a Remnant at all.

  “So, you can control those other Peon-things? That’s neat,” Erik attempted to break the ice, or at least the silence.

  The man sighed and slouched his shoulders.

  “Listen, Erik, was it? What I’m about to tell you will probably shake you to your very core. Nothing will ever be the same for you. I’m not sure your mind can even survive the news…” the man started. He seemed much more determined this time around. “You… are a Titan.”

  A wave of disappointment washed over Erik just then. It wasn’t that he was still just a normal human after all, but the drama this man had built up to had literally zero impact on Erik as he didn’t even know what the hell a Titan was supposed to be. At least he knew what a Witch was. Hell, he’d accept being classified a Clown.

  “A Titan?” Erik asked, managing not to roll his eyes as he did.

  “One hundred per cent. The test is never wrong.”

  “That’s…Fine, I guess.”

  “Wh-… Excuse me?” the man asked, looking more shocked now than earlier.

  “I don’t know about any of this stuff, alright?! I found out witches were real a few minutes ago! You think the word titan is going to mean anything to me?”

  “O-oh, I see…” the man tried to recover, but his voice was cracking. He cleared his throat before continuing. “I’m sorry. Times aren’t what they used to be. An aeon or three ago I would probably be tossed out of here for even mentioning… Titans.”

  “Why? I mean, are they super rare or maybe just explosively evil or something?” Erik asked.

  “What? Oh, yes. Very rare indeed. Extinct. Maybe mythical is the right word. I didn’t even know they were real until now. But evil? That’s always up to the individual. It’s said the Titans were the First People, as far as we can tell, they’re the ones who created the universe. Not from the First People like all Remnants are, but literally the First People. I didn’t even know the tablets were calibrated for this outcome.”

  “So I’m… not a Remnant? Peon hundred-and-three told me that a Remnant is literally the remnants, or descendants rather, of the First People, right?”

  “Yes, but Titans… Titans were the absolute first. The first First People, if you like. So much power they must’ve had back then… In your case, ‘Remnant’ is more… literal than in other cases, I suppose. I’d still classify you as such,” the man continued, his focus fading away.

  “Super First, got it. How long have they been gone for, though?”

  “Well… No one knows. There hasn’t been a Titan since… Well, ever! As I mentioned, I didn’t think they were real until now.”

  “Okay, I guess. So am I a lab rat now, or can I go?” Erik asked.

  The man sighed, then looked down on his desk. A short while later, he looked back up at Erik, who was already moving back through the hole in the wall.

  “I wish you well, Erik Fried.”

  When the Titan was gone and the portal was shut, the Manager finally had a reason to open one of those ancient bottles he’d received when he was assigned his role in Afterlife. He did so without hesitation and brought the glass straight to his mouth. After a medium mouthful, he swallowed. He winced at the burn down his throat.

  “This will change things…”