Chapter 1 - Welcome to the Afterlife

  It’s always strange, the things that you become aware of first whenever you come back to consciousness. For Alex, it was the subtle ticking of an old analog clock, marking the passing of seconds in a slow monotonous march into the past. One of those utterly normal sounds that fades into the background of your awareness as quickly as it’s noticed. The next detail to register was the smell. Old paper, printer toner, dust, and that faint mustiness that seems to be part of every old office, no matter where it’s located. And finally, Alex recognizes that he’s sitting up in a chair, and finally manages to open his eyes. The sight that greets him is exactly what you might expect from the details he already has. A plain office, mostly clean and neat, with beige walls, an off white drop-ceiling, generic desk, and someone sitting behind it with their hands folded, waiting patiently.

  Alex jerks upright from his slumped position in the chair, startled into wakefulness as the details sink in. His mind whirls, trying to remember where he’s at or how he got here. But try as he might, the details are like trying to grasp at mist. In fact, Alex can’t seem to remember anything. Not what day it was, not where he lived, not where he worked, nothing. Even the memory of friends or family is just… gone. Racking his brain for anything, the only thing Alex is able to come up with is his own name. His heart starts racing, breath catching in his chest, as the panic begins to set in. Amnesia is one of the things of Alex’s worst nightmares, his mind seems to know that detail, but not why it bothers him so much.

  As the panic starts to mount, that’s when the figure across the desk from Alex clears its throat. “Ahem. Hello Alex. Take a deep breath. You’re in no danger.” Says a voice just on the masculine side of androgynous. Calm and placid with just the right touch of empathetic tone. Like a doctor greeting a patient for the first time. Alex’s eyes snap up to look at the only other person in the room. The man sitting across from him is dressed in simple business attire, a black dress-shirt buttoned to the collar with a grey striped tie. He’s got a thin face with too-pointed nose and chin. He’s got slicked-back black hair, perfectly combed in a neat business cut.

  But all of that registers as secondary to the detail that captures Alex’s attention. The man wears a pair of glasses, thin-rimmed and minimalist designed, over startlingly black eyes. Not dark-brown, but truly black. And despite the lack of memory, that detail immediately hits Alex as unnatural. It takes Alex only a moment to take all of it in, and the man continues to speak. “My name is Corvus. You can consider me the ‘in-processing’ here. Take a few deep breaths, and when you’re ready, I can answer your questions and explain your new situation.” Corvus says in that same calm, empathetic tone, carefully curated to put others at ease.

  The man speaking had derailed the worst of the panic at least, so Alex does as he’s asked, taking the time to draw in a few slow breaths and calm his racing heart. He tries to order his thoughts, figure out what to say, what to ask, and eventually settles on what he feels is the most important thing first. “Why can’t I remember anything besides my first-name?” He asks when he finally finds his voice. “And where am I? What do you mean ‘new situation’? Is this some hospital office? ‘In-processing’ for what?” Alex blurts out in a deluge of hurried questions, the first seeming to have broken the dam and it all comes rushing out.

  Corvus sits patiently behind the desk, hands folded in front of him on the surface. He tips his head to the side slightly, listening as the questions spill from Alex’s lips. He waits until Alex seems done, then nods and unlaces his fingers, gesturing to Alex. “The memory-loss is completely normal here. It is an unfortunate effect of your arrival in this place. Everyone who comes here endures the same loss. And that leads nicely into your second question.” Corvus pauses for a breath, then steeples his fingers together under his chin. “Alex, there is no easy way to convey this. My condolences, but you have died in the mortal-realm. Welcome to the afterlife. Welcome to Hell.” Corvus says with a faint smile.

  Alex feels his heart drop into his stomach, the sudden feeling of vertigo. “I’m… dead?” He asks, voice hushed in disbelief. Alex looks down at himself. His body looks normal, fairly average male build, maybe a little extra in the middle. He’s wearing a generic tan tee-shirt and jeans, and gets a feeling that’s pretty normal for himself. It feels comfortable, familiar, even if his mind can’t attach the feelings to a source. He’s wearing a pair of rugged boots, and even those he somehow knows they are what he wore nearly every day. Then his head snaps back up as the rest of Corvus’s words slam home. “HELL?!?” He shouts, eyes going wide. “But, I’m not… I didn’t… I thought I was a pretty decent person! Why am I in HELL?” The panic starts to return, and he can’t help but shout, nearly jumping up from the chair. The only thing that stops him is the vertigo that hasn’t fully subsided.

  The other man’s patience is implacable, and Corvus just listens as Alex shouts at him. “I’m afraid so, yes. We don’t have any way of knowing how you died, but the fact that you’re here means it did happen. As for why you’re in Hell, that answer is easier. Every soul comes here. Pauper or Prince, Saint or Sinner, Righteous or Repugnant. All pass through our gates.” Corvus says, his tone never shifting from that calming tone.

  “This is the afterlife for all mortal souls. But don’t fear, this is not a place of punishment. Just the next stage of existence.” He explains. “I’m known as The Guide, and it’s my duty and pleasure to welcome our new arrivals, and help get you acclimated to this realm.” As Corvus says ‘The Guide’, there’s a subtle heaviness that settles in the air as if everything became more solid and brittle for the utterance of those words. But the sensation vanishes as he continues to speak. “Are there any other questions I can answer before I begin the orientation?” He asks, that subtle smile tugging at his lips again.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Alex slumps back into the chair, deflating a bit. “I’m really dead. I’m really in hell.” He mutters, then rubs his face. “Assuming I believe you, which I’m not completely sure I do, why does hell look like a typical corporate office?” He asks, having to suppress a laugh that was on the verge of hysterical.

  “Ah, that’s what it looks like to you. Interesting. What you’re experiencing is part of my power in my role here.” Corvus begins to explain. “There are innumerable ‘splinters’ of me having this same meeting with every soul that arrives in Hell. In each instance, a secluded room like this is created for the soul, giving you somewhere somewhat familiar to have our conversation. It only exists until you leave the room, same as with this particular splinter. So, in short, it looks this way because it’s something that your soul would recognize as familiar.” Corvus says, then nods towards Alex.

  The man takes a moment to digest that information. Then slowly asks. “So you’re what… an angel, or demon, or something?” He gestures up and down Corvus’s face and chest. “You look pretty normal, except those eyes.” He says before he can think better of potentially offending Corvus.

  The other just laughs though and nods. “Yes, I’m a Demon, a natural-born resident of Hell. What you see is a guise, but with any guise there are always parts that peek through. Would it help you understand if I showed you my natural form?” Corvus asks, spreading his hands to the sides a bit. At a nod from Alex, the air around Corvus seems to shiver. Like dry-ice sublimating into vapor, the human-like appearance dissolves.

  What is revealed leaves no room for denial of what Alex sees. The beak-like points of Corvus’s nose and chin form into a real beak, obsidian black and wickedly sharp. Those black eyes shimmering as even the whites disappear into reflective black marbles set into a bird’s face. Corvus seems to grow taller, thinner. Immaculate black wings seem to fade into existence around his shoulders like a cape, and his clothes ripple into silky black feathers with an iridescent sheen. The transformation takes only a few heartbeats.

  Alex gapes at the sight. If it wasn’t something he witnessed face-to-face, he wouldn’t believe it possible. “Holy Fuck… You really are a demon. You’re a crow demon. Like, legitimately a demon. Holy…” Alex mutters, the stream of words seemingly caught on loop. After about the fourth repetition, Corvus settles back into his chair, the guise falling back into place once more, making him look mostly human. He again laces his fingers over the desk and patiently waits for Alex to get it out of his system. It’s a longer wait this time.

  After the freak-out subsides, Alex rubs his face and groans. “Ok. I’m in hell. I’m talking to a Demon. In an office. In hell.” He lets out a long sigh. “OK. I can deal with this. I can do this. What’s next?” He asks, sitting forward in his chair and resting his elbows on his knees.

  Corvus tips his head as if assessing Alex. “You recover from the shock of things quite well, all considered. Usually that portion of the orientation takes a few hours to a few days. You’re remarkably mentally resilient.” Corvus says, then lifts a hand and extends a finger.

  In the air above the fingertip, the air ripples, then shimmers. And a blue-white flame appears then freezes as if made of glass. “Alex, this is Animus. It is essentially the condensed energy created from all of your experiences, memories, and history as a mortal before your death.” He explains as Alex gazes at the small flame with wonder. “Creating the Animus is why you can’t remember anything, but still have a sense of your identity.” Corvus flicks the finger, and the flame vanishes. “Every soul enters Hell with ONE Animus. Meaning you have one, stored within your soul.”

  Alex listens attentively, only pulling his gaze back to Corvus’s face once the demonic crow dissipates the Animus on his finger. “So I have one of this… Animus thing, inside me? And it’s made from my memories and stuff?” Corvus nods. “Then why can’t I remember if I still have it?”

  Corvus hmmmms and nods again. “That’s a tricky question to answer. It isn’t the same as having those experiences and memories. It’s more like Animus is what you get when those things are distilled. It loses all the aspects that made it unique, and instead becomes a purified form of its essence.” The demon sits back in his chair, looking thoughtful for a moment. “Yes, that’s about the best analogy I can think of.”

  Alex winces, feeling the sharp bite of loss. If Corvus was correct, there was no method for getting his memory back from the Animus. “OK, but like… I’m still ‘Me’, right? I still know who I am.” He asks, chewing on his lip a moment. “How can that be, if I no longer have my memories or experiences?”

  At this question Corvus sits up straighter again and smiles. “A very astute question. You see, Identity is something more intrinsic. You Are You. Imagine the framing for a home, just the raw timber. It determines the shape and form of the home. That’s you, your soul. Now, your experiences during life are like the insulation, the paint, the wall-paper, the siding… They can add style and flavor, but under it all, it’s You.” He says, still smiling in his calm manner. “Does this make sense to you?”

  Alex mulls over the analogy and slowly nods, but looks rather puzzled still. “Yeah, I think so. But it raises another question. I don’t remember living in a house, but I know what a house is. I don’t remember having worked with, or even touched, any of that stuff. But I understand what they are. How can that be if I have no memory?” Alex asks, scratching his head.

  Corvus quirks an eyebrow and then slowly cocks his head to the side. “My friend, I don’t believe I have an answer to that question. Curious. Most just accept that there are some things they still know. I’m sure there is an answer, but at this moment, I don’t have it.” Corvus says with an apologetic shrug. “But I digress, there is more you need to understand about Animus.”