|One|

And so, there I was, laying in the floor, practically splashing about in a puddle of both my own and my attackers' blood. The events that lead up to this moment are pointless and meaningless, all that mattered in this moment was survival. Well, more accurately, the possibility of it. For as I faintly pondered it, a knife was jammed just under my left rib, with another knife lodged in the base of my collarbone. Luckily for me, it'd missed my windpipe, so choking on my own blood was completely out of the question. However, bleeding out, internal bleeding, shock, and all similar independent variables were beginning to raise their ugly and pompous heads. I couldn't stand, my body was too weak and had used all of its adrenaline to fight off the attacker. I had no access to a phone, mine was charging on a counter I had no hope of reaching. My voice was too weakened by my wounds to cry for help. No girlfriend, wife, or kids were coming home. I could just about manage blinking and spasming my limbs around like freshly caught fishes if I tried hard enough.

'Am I ready to die? I mean, I don't have much choice.'

My life had been nothing but mediocre. Average. Normal. Basic. I lived like everyone else: safe. It worked: I got a job that paid all the bills and left me enough money to enjoy after. I got a house big enough for me and a (not happening) potential partner. I had good, clean friends who I spent weekends with. I got a car that turned heads as I drove it. I had clothes that flashed and displayed dazzling designs upon them. I was what I was expected to be by all.

'But was I really happy?'

No smile crept onto my face as I reflected upon it all, and so I was left with the obvious truth: No. I never had been happy, I'd just been following the plan, the same plan set for everyone when they are born, whether they realise it or not. I still had things I wanted to do: I wanted to see locations, go places, stay up at night, fall asleep under the stars, meet 'the one who would fix me,' all of it. I guess those options have simply just vanished in front of me though...

The pain in my body was becoming unbearable. I decided that the best course of action would be removing the foreign objects from my body, but as I went to move my arms I realised I couldn't feel them. Even worse, I couldn't feel any twinge of muscles pushing together, indicating that my brain has finally given up trying to preserve me. Instead, it's decided to re-route all of its power to keeping its main functions alive.

'As long as I'm still breathing, I don't care what I lose.'

I could see my attacker stirring only a few paces away from me, a knife of his own embedded in his neck. His movements were more snappy and quickened than mine, showing his damage to be more traumatic and dangerous than mine. I couldn't feel sympathy for him: it was rule of survival, him or me. And I decided that it was me.

'I guess it doesn't matter now, we'll both be dead within the hour.'

Another brief rush of adrenaline to my body told me that my legs were now disconnected, blood-wise, to my body. All my vital organs were being prioritised, the rest of my body could die. Yet even as I laid there watching my body pour out my very life essence, I couldn't help but see how obsolete it was. How wasteful it was.

'I know I'm dead. Why can't I just... turn myself off or something? Why can't I just flick my brain into premature death and simply just wait?'

The pain had begun to subside now, the throbbing strikes ebbing into a more calmer pulse of pain. This one was bearable. Both stab wounds still bled like a dying animal, make no mistake of it, but my body was becoming so empty and hollow it simply didn't have the ability to process pain. My vision had began to glass over, the floor paling and stiffening as I struggled to blink. I couldn't even make my body move anymore, it simply laid there as I croaked out animal noises similar to what a deer would make if hit by a car and left dying. A pathetic moaning, almost upset at the fact that they aren't dead yet.

'It won't be much longer... it won't be much longer... it can't be...'

My eyes began to shut down, parts of my vision randomly cutting into complete darkness, others blurring to such a point that I couldn't really see anything, much less make it out from anything else. At this point, I'd finally faced obvious facts: I'm going to die, and there's nothing I, nor anyone else, can do about it. I was passing.

'I could either make my peace, or end up being full of respite wherever I end up.'

And so, for my last ten seconds on earth, I made peace with my demons. I set aside my problems. Apologised to all I hurt. Let go of it all. Moved on from everything.

And just as I made my last vow, the blurriness cut out, my final breath hitched its way out of my bloody and bruised lungs, and my senses were suddenly washed away in the sweet, sweet embrace of darkness.

A white room. That's what I woke up to. A white wall with a table, two chairs, and a door, facing in front of me. Despite the stiffness in my body, I found myself sat in one of the chairs, the second one opposing me. I blinked a few more times, trying to get the grogginess out of my brain, before attempting to stand up. My legs became so unbearably unstable that I forced myself to sit back down, cursing my body for not doing what my instincts were screaming for.

'This is... too quiet. Too simple. Too... normal.'

The room had no decor, and was wholly white: not a smudge nor a stain had ever disgraced its walls. I couldn't make out where the light was coming from, as no beams nor lamps were visible. It was simply a cube in which I was sat in, totally clueless and at the mercy of it all.

'I... I just died. Oh my god, I actually just died. '

A fierce sweat broke out upon my body as my brain went into haywire trying to work out what had happened and how I ended up here. I couldn't have walked, there was no way of it. My attacker couldn't have lifted me up and carried me anywhere, the guy looked like more of a beached whale than I did. No one else was visiting. I didn't get surprise visitors, I wasn't that lucky. Plus, no one would be able to get through the door regardless, as even the attacker came through an open window.

'This isn't looking fantastic.'

My body felt incredibly relaxed: no pain ran through my veins, nor did any sort of longevity set in from my wounds. I felt ten years younger if anything. My skin felt oiled and refined, my breath seemed to ease its way through me, my stresses had oddly gone. Peace, as strange and as new as the emotion was to me, began to flow through my body. I sat still and let the new feeling coarse through me, like the humbling heat from a camp-fire sets and seethes onto flesh.

'Strange... Dead, yet with no regrets. Or am I forcing myself not to regret?'

"Hell of a feeling, isn't it?"

I jumped awake, realising in my moments of peace and silence I'd closed my eyes and tilted my head back, drifting off into a stillness similar to death.

'How fitting.'

"S-sorry?" I timidly spoke, my voice higher than usual. Realising fear cracked my voice, I sat up, trying to ignore the redness appearing on my cheeks and around my head. A slight, polite chuckle echoed around the room, before my head finally adjusted to the new body I could see in front of me:

It had already sat down, legs slightly spread and elbows resting on the table in an incredibly business-like way. A grey, relaxed suit covered every inch of it's skin, giving me no indication of it's strength nor his build. Leather gloves coated the hands, tight enough to seem sprayed on directly. A squared face calmly stared back at me, with a carved out nose, blackened eyes, and a mouth manipulated into a slight smile, as if it was attempting to not come off as rough. It had the outward appearance of a human, but not the biological appearance of one: it's skin was a perfect white, no blood seeming to run underneath it. The eyes analysed me, but no brain was wired to it. No human brain, anyway. Yes, it's body had limbs, but they rested too still like.

"The feeling. Most people speak about it when they arrive here. How 'freeing' and 'young' they feel. I once had one guy say he felt eighteen again!" A smile crossed it's face, only for a short second, before returning to neutrality once again.

"Right, okay... One thing at a time: Where am I?" My voice croaked out, cracking once again. I chose to ignore it and hoped he'd do the same.

Upon asking, it proceeded to inhale sharply and drum its fingers together, almost robot-like, before speaking:

"I... I don't really know. No one does. No one has been able to place where this actually is. They appear here after dying-"

"Dying? I'm actually dead? Like, for real dead?" My mind had played it over, of course, but I'd hoped for some miracle. I was waiting for this person to tell me he was a doctor and had just fixed me up and they'd shipped me here. Or, he was a lawyer, explaining how I'd been done for manslaughter and he'd pleaded insanity for me, or...

'God, I just pleaded for something.'

"Yes. You are dead. Do you want a few moments to acknowledge this, or can I continue?" An edge of impatience gently lay over its tone, a showing that he was indeed understanding of emotions. To be honest, it rattled me slightly, but knocked the self-sympathetic view of myself out of the water, allowing me to almost immediately cast it aside.

'This thing has clearly had this conversation hundreds of times, if not thousands.'

"I- uh, no sorry. Excuse me, continue." I blundered out, trying to clumsily clean up my trip up. It's impatience evaporated once he knew he could continue.

"Thank you. It's okay, most people react worse to the knowledge. One guy tried to flip the table and kill me! That was an eventful day, let me tell you. Anyway, back on track, you appear here after dying, I get a sort of... alert, yeah, that's the best way to word it, that you've just died and ended up here."

"Do you have a name for here?" I asked

"Yeah, actually. Well- I do, as such. I call it 'Just After.' I found it quite fitting." It explained, eyes and posture lowering slightly.

'It's realised I am no threat. Good. I don't like my chances regardless.'

"Just After... Like, Just After death?" I asked

"Yes, exactly." It responded

"I see..."

"Anyway, this is the room before the passing. Take it in: you only see this place once, although there isn't really much to see." Another incredibly polite and curt laugh bubbled it's way out of itself, seeming to come directly from its stomach.

"What do you mean, 'passing?'" I recounted, worry beginning to show itself once again.

"Well, do you want the short version, or the long version?" It's fingers tapped together again, a short drumming sound emanating from them.

"How much time do we have?" My breathing quickened slightly: I had no power here. I knew nothing here. I was at the complete mercy of this stranger, and I had no idea how to proceed. To my surprise, it's gaze softened after hearing this, my words hitting some emotional string in it's heart.

"Dear friend, we all but all the time in the world." The reply didn't calm me, only had me worry more.

"I- I don't understand. What if I need a drink, or some food?" A bead of sweat forcibly broke through my skin barrier and rolled down the side of my face, a trail following it's exact movements.

"Why would you need any of these things? You're dead, food is but a necessity of life."

"What about water, or drink?"

"Water is a necessity, and what pain are you trying to escape from, or what situation are you trying to lighten? This is it, friend. You are dead. You need nothing now."

"Surely you can bring me back, right? I mean, someone will find me and call the police or-"

"Listen to me: You. Are. Dead. It's over for you. Even if I wanted to take you back up to the top, I couldn't. I don't have that power! No one does. I wish I did, because it would rid me from idealistic people like yourself, or religious people, and all the other crazies who make their way down here. Drill it into that thick skull of yours! It's over!" With it's voice raised and it's stance changed into one of aggression, I quietened down incredibly fast, and became passive through means I still don't understand.

'I hadn't even really pushed my case yet. Again, probably had this conversation about a million times. Clearly he's just trying to save time. I mean, can I blame him? I'd probably do the exact same.'

"Got it?" It asked one more time.

"Yeah, I get it." I confirmed, "I'm sorry." Following shortly after. It sighed, clearly stressed or bothered by itself of me, before confirming my suspicions:

"It's okay, it's just a lot of people act the same way. I don't mean to take my aggression out on you, it's just... this happens so frequently, and some people talk for so long about things that just don't matter anymore."

"Like what?"

"Their families, jobs, the money they've left, the in-laws, everything. It's all just here-say, pointless nonsense. I find no place for it." A lack of emotion told me that he'd been drained of it, or never had it in the first place.

"I- I guess. I hadn't really thought about it to be honest... I haven't had the time to think about it."

The person opposite me had taken its seat once again, and tilted its head slightly after hearing me just speak, clearly confused by my words.

"What on earth is 'time?'" An inquisitive look spread across it's face, wiping away the mask that had presented itself for most of our conversation.

"What's time? Uh... Wow, give me a moment to think..." My brain clocked itself into overdrive trying to dig out an answer for it that satisfied both it and myself.

'I'm no philosopher.'

"Time is... God, I don't know what time is, I'm sorry." I apologised for what seemed like the umpteenth time to it, living up perfectly to my English routes. (trust me, we apologise if someone walks into us, it's a problem we all suffer with.)

"So you don't understand time, yet you use it as a defence for feeling no emotion? How strange." It's words made it seem as if it were trying to provoke me, yet it's language made it seem innocent.

"Time is like ageing: As someone gets older, they grow. They mature, their brains and body change, right?" I glanced at my recipient, making sure they'd gathered my thought process so far, and to my surprise, they nodded back.

"Yes, I understand that. But how is that classified under time? Isn't that something the body naturally does, change?" Inquisitive, it leant in a little more, eyes slightly widening.

"Well yeah, but grass naturally grows, and that isn't the cause of time, that's just how things naturally-" My sarcasm was squandered as I realised I had only just proved it's point.

"You humans are so... simple. You don't understand individualities, so you name an entire subsection of the universe, all to make it simple. Things happen at a rate different to something else, or incredibly similar, so you group them all together." I guess it finally caught wind of my scrunched up face, because surprise showed it's way into their own before backtracking quickly.

"Oh, do excuse me, I didn't mean to make fun of you at all! I'm sure you were just following the next man. I can't blame you, many of you seem constantly busy. If I do go on, ignore me, it's just so rare I find someone who is as calm as you once arriving. It's a nice change of pace actually."

I am rather calm right now. How odd. I thought I'd be kicking and screaming my way through hell by now. Actually, thinking about that...

"Is this my purgatory or whatever then?" I asked, changing the subject quite quickly. I then watched it's face go from smiling to sullen in a few microseconds, eyes dulling.

"Of course. You're a religious one... Here we go..." It signed, clearly preparing itself for a speech, so I cut it short as quickly as possible:

"Oh no, I'm not religious in any way, it's just heaven and hell are looked at by most people, if not made fun of for a little while."

The relief that seemed to wash over him was incredible to witness.

"Oh, thank goodness. You don't know how many debates I've had to have with these people: 'no, I'm not god' 'yes, I'm sure I'm not' 'no, there is no heaven or hell' 'of course, I'm sure that you, someone who's never experienced this, has more knowledge of what's going on because you simply read it in a centuries old book.' My goodness, it can be infuriating." After flaring his nostrils for a moment, he looked back at me:

"The short answer, because I've wasted enough of your time, is this: We discuss what you think is through that door, and I tell you what is actually through that door. We agree on something we can both accept, and that's it. You go through the door, find whatever's on the other side, and we call it a day."

"But I won't find God on the other side?" My question-like nature got the better of me in this moment as I relaxed slightly, feeling the weight of the world leave my shoulders.

"No matter how much we argue, no." A curt response, the one I expected.

"Well, let's begin slowly: Are there other people on the other side of that door? Is it like heaven?"

"One moment: How would heaven work?" Seemingly changing the subject, it looked up and down at me, judging my intelligence quickly and almost quietly.

"Sorry?"

"How would heaven work? No, I'm deadly serious. How would you work it?"

"I don't get what you mean."

"Think about it. I can see you have a brain on you that isn't primitive and basic, so I'll explain from my view. Oh, it is 'Christians,' right?"

"Yeah, that's what they're called."

"Okay thank you. Anyway: To be Christian, you have to believe in God, and apologise for your wrongdoings. Doing this gets you into heaven. But doesn't this mean anyone can get into heaven? I've met murders, kidnappers, rapists, child predators, and all of them have told me about how they 'repented,' which I'm going to assume is them saying sorry, and how they should be allowed into heaven. These people, unlike you, do not get a say in what's on the other side of the door, and simply exist in whatever place I create for them. Only those who have a proper reason to kill are allowed to live."

"A proper reason to kill?" I backtracked a moment, slightly stunned. "What reason does anyone have to kill?"

"What was yours?" It shot back, breath hitting my nostrils.

'It doesn't like being challenged. At all.'

"Survival." I bluntly spat out.

"Well, there's one. Revenge is another: I'm a big believer in an eye for an eye. Fighting for a country is one, as I don't believe that those who are told to kill someone else because they're 'the enemy' really get to comment on how they felt. Most don't feel anything anyway."

"What about terrorists? Don't they fight for a country?"

"They fight for something that doesn't exist. Something completely wrong. Most allow themselves to become a twisted, sick creature, some enough to the point where I actually enjoy  watching them react to what's behind the door."

"Can I ask something?" My brain had just popped out an incredible thought that I could actually find the answer out to, mind already whirring with how it would react.

"Sure. We're already sidetracked as it is."

"What happened to Bin Laden and George Bush?"

"Neither ended up in a good place. He did it, by the way."

'Knew it.'

"Huh. I guess I get it. Okay, sorry, I sidetracked you, the door-"

"We we're taking about heaven first. I'm not letting that one go, I've thought this out for too long. Don't interrupt me! Let me talk. So, if you let everyone in who apologised, how would there be anyone in hell? Plus, if God really cared about you, surely you could just apologise in front of it and they'd accept it and let you in. Also, how would you organise it? Think about it. If the basic level of Christianity is believing and repenting, then what do those who delivered speeches about it, or handed out leaflets, or went from door to door speaking about God get? One Christian told me God is a fair and just power, so surely rewarding those who've done more is just. Surely this thought had to have crossed someone's mind, right?" I sort of just looked up and down, trying to avoid the fact that his choices could split on individual barriers.

'I guess something like this would mess with anyone's ability to judge things. such is the bliss of humanity: Feeling no struggle with such a wide task. I mean, look at me! Judging this man who will eventually judge my friends, my family, and even my kille-'

"What about my killer?" I blurted out, brain beginning its rigorous test of over-thinking once again. My mouth fumbled with the 'killer,' part, showing that my stress levels were indeed rising "Oh, of course! I'm sure the person who brought you here must be racking your mind. Really, you must say something, I had no idea how insensitive I was truly being. Well..."

It rose as it spoke, body moving towards the door I was both excited and deathly nervous to walk through myself. It seemed to pause, a look of pure loss and upset wash over him, before it's previous impenetrable poker-face returned. Turning towards me, it spun a little, slamming the door open to reveal my murderers' new home.

A blonde haired, blue-eyed body stared back at me, the very soul seemingly trapped and trying to tear it's way out of itself. A voiceless scream hid behind his fixated stare, lips resembling carrion more than the entrance to a mouth. A tooth seemed lodged in the tangled chords of skin and fibre. He couldn't even moan. If anyone else was to lay eyes on him, they'd probably scream or become repulsed or form some sort of emotion, yet as I stood and stared at the man who took my life from me, all i felt was... hunger. Pure, sweet, unstoppable hunger. My vision widened, my eyes strained, and my body rushed itself with adrenaline. Before I even realised what I was doing, I'd flipped the table, spun over the wreckage, and began sprinting towards the door, malicious intent in my hands. I'd curved my hands, clawed like vultures. A few steps away, my reality practically slapped me in the face in a very harsh way: A closed door to the face. My nose crunched into itself, my eyes felt like they'd been burrowed inside through gouging. My lips burst, and my mouth bit down, crunching into my tongue in half. Blood filled my mouth, causing me to hit the floor and spit half of my jaw capacity onto the floor, coughing out my other half of my tongue. it hit the floor with the wettest and soppiest 'splat' id ever heard. I was reeling, body experiencing fresh and seemingly enhanced pain, spasms and twitches racking me all over. Through my ordeal, I rolled my body over, seeing both the ceiling and the thing that had kept me here. A look of pure disappointment glaring down on me, with that same blank stare behind me.

"I had faith, you seemed so... interesting, but you're just the same as everyone else when faced with your desire."

It pulled me up, tilting my head down to allow to me to spurt more blood out from my lungs. Breathing was slowly becoming more and more of a struggle as I stared back at that god-damned door.

"Look, look again. I mean really look, boy."

My eyes were forced open, exposing me once again to the gruesome conflict in front of me: The guy was still there, he had no one else to be, with his hands fixed in place with nails. Upon clearing my bleary eyes, I realised that he was actually fixed to a cross, about twice the size of him easily. I looked at the monster next to me, sympathy riddling my eyes alongside my tears. The guy who killed me finally looked human.

"This is where you'll be from now, until I decide things will change. Who knows? Maybe I'll remember you, but hopefully I'll forget, just along with the quadrillion other sick freaks I keep here. Good luck, you'll need it."

And with that, he threw me through the door, where my entire body seemed to fall into a void. I was and wasn't floating. I was panicking now, my entire body thrashing like a fish caught in a predators mouth, before throwing one last look at it. It gave me the most hollow, depraved, hungry grin I'd ever witnessed in my life, before grabbing the edge of the door with both sides and slammed it. A force that I'm sure even my new friend strung up felt emanated through this nothingness. The sound revered for a short while, filling the silence with its empty noise, before the unnerving crushing silence spread through the room. I looked up at my new room-mate, our eyes connected, and a moment of forgiveness ran through both of us, causing me a moment of calm and clarity in this world of stress and danger. No sooner had I finished my final stare with him when I felt an incredibly strong tugging sensation grabbing the entirety of my foot up to my calf. Spinning round with a spike of panic, my eyes bore witness to literal liquid darkness sliding up my legs before swallowing them whole, leaving nothing but the eternal darkness that surrounded us for miles.

'No say in my world, like it said I'd have. No freedom, no nothing. It's right: God truly doesn't exist...'

At this point, I'd given up, my brain and body powering down just as they'd done so long ago. I brought my hands up to my face, feeling the darkness slither and tether itself to my waist and stomach. I scanned every crevice, every line, every scar, every single detail that I could still make out. As I did, my arms were taken away, hands slowly following behind, oil-like liquid sliding through the gaps and gapes in them. My upper body was next, making breathing as hard as it was originally, before my neck twisted itself straight, keeping my body almost cocooned in its own web of safety. My mouth went first, the pouring sensation burning out my mouth before repairing and remaking my tongue, causing it to flap about like a fixed bird wing. My ears were next, wiping the conversation I'd just had, and bringing all the sounds I'd heard out of them and back into the abyss. My eyes were the same: What I'd seen was wiped clear before me. My brain was rightly purged, a blank expression plastered before me once again. My eyes were flooded with liquid, forcing me to shut them so tight that the world became a bright spectrum of fuzzy static images, before my conciousness finally gave through.

And so, there I was, laying in the floor, practically splashing about in a puddle of both my own and my attackers' blood. The events that lead up to this moment are pointless and meaningless, all that mattered in this moment was survival. Well, more accurately, the possibility of it. ..

"Let's try this again, and again, and again, for this, boy, is the new world you will live in forever now. You will never find closure, you will never find peace, and you will never rest. You will infinitely chase your killer until the place itself collapses. 'Just After' finding your killer is it's real meaning, you stupid boy. Regardless, I'm looking forward to seeing you once again, because despite all of this... I do enjoy your company. Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere... And you simply cannot."

-TheGuide, finished at exactly 22:26 on Tuesday 15th September, 2020