Long Live Death: Welcome To The Afterlife Read online

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  Long Live Death

  By: Joshua Mercott

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  Dedication

  To Adrian Cain, whose idea-seed grew into a giant beanstalk. Adrian, thank you for your friendship and wisdom. To Wendy Smuts, who inspired this story with the words ‘write what you know’ long before I knew it. Wendy, you’re the best a lost writer can ask for. And to my mom, Maria Shanthi, who silently understood what the world didn’t.

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  Synopsis

  Reincarnator Helidon finds himself in Quadrant City after taking his own life. Suicide City is where Captain Charon ferries souls like him. What he didn’t know was that the afterlife dimensions were all ruled by the iron fist of King Death. As courtier to His Majesty, Helidon goes through difficult and wacky circumstances in his attempt to do right by his King, the people of Quadrant City and himself. In an afterlife filled with powerplays, distrust, craziness, wonders, disasters and a chance at love, Helidon experiences so much so fast that he has no time to spot the final twist. It would be a game changer, one that would alter the very nature of the afterlife and take Death himself by surprise.

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  Characters (Main & Side) & Other Details

  King Death

  Lady Life

  Helidon – Human life-form; The Reincarnator

  Krell –Polaria life-form; assistant and fellow courtier to Helidon

  Nolan Weatherby – Human life-form; cab driver

  Doofus Damien – Human life-form; homeless man

  Jeffrey “Paul” Paulson & Clara Paulson – Human life-forms; poor couple

  Courtier Natalew – Ut life-form; fellow courtier to Helidon

  Jacoby “Jacob” Lechouche – The batler or back-up butler

  Baron and Baroness Von Heisen – Vampires, technically Human life-forms; family-heads and owners of Chateau D’Heisen (aka Castle Von Heisen).

  Natalya Dunayevsky – Vampire chef; family to the Von Heisens

  Mrs. Carina Jelva – Kitchen maid

  Little Maria Jelva – Carina’s Infant daughter

  Captain Charon – Reaper of Souls

  Doctor Mezzinski – Human life-form; works at a soulpital (soul-hospital)

  Nurse Elena – Human life-form; works at the same soulpital (soul-hospital)

  Boremasta – Ferxian life-form; Head of the Credit Finance, Revenue, Taxation, Funding & Budget Department of His Majesty’s government; fellow courtier to Helidon

  Cyborg conductor – Sotrashtrian life-form; works for Quadrant Express

  Madame Plaisir – Human life-form; madam of the Parlor after the same name {unsure if she’s a eunuch or crossdresser}

  Elizabeth Krem – Human life-form; Helidon’s love interest; domestic staff member at Castle Von Heisen

  Alejandro Guerra – Human life-form; legendary matador debuting the Moo-Day event

  Madame Madeleine Mollere – Vampire; composer; family to the Von Heisens

  Kerano Keravo -- Fallacian life-form; lead vocalist of the music band Doe-Eyed Bastards

  [Seated at a table] – Charlie (Human life-form), Maxie (Human life-form), Nern (Hefester life-form), Reen (Ilyoman life-form), Aarna (Dretma life-form)

  Event Announcer – {Name unknown; life-form unknown}

  Featherball commentators – Crystal-Blood life-forms; Bella Wordel and Baradon Wells

  Kalia – Crystal-Blood-life form; fastest Featherballer from team Mesk (she played against team Gerta in the Moo-Day playoff)

  Mardo – The suit-clerk; the Reincarnator was in too much of a hurry to find out what life-form this character was

  Molina Guitrash Hooliona Jezzta – Liranova life-form; Resistance member; just call her Molina

  15-Month Calendar of His Majesty’s Solar Year

  Month names from 1 through 15:-

  Jener, Froo, Maer, Prella, Moo, Jenz, Jella, Staghsht, Timbester, Tobry, Neverbrim, Cinderzed, Keranet, Mertumber and Solazion.

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  1

  I strongly remember the things I should forget. Then again, I never really forget anything now that I’m a soul. My name is Helidon and I am one of the men in Death’s court. No, it’s not what you’re thinking. This is an actual court in an actual dimension and I serve His Majesty the King who’s more commonly known in the Universe as Death. The moment we join his service, our surnames are erased from all the records and histories of Quadrant City, the name they gave this dimension. Whoever held a name first shall keep it but any future courtiers who have the same first name are allowed to choose a new one. These original single-names are the only monikers how every one of us in Death’s court will be known for the duration of our stay. I’m just happy I came in as Helidon. I’m not supposed to ever reveal my surname, that’s one of my courtier clauses. Sadly, my enemies at Soul Hall have something to remember me by. No Mr. Whats-his-face but an easy-to-recall Helidon.

  Don’t get me wrong, I’m just a simple guy. Thing is every other courtier becomes your enemy as soon as you join service. Whether you like it or not, that’s the way the cookie’s been crumbling for the three months I’ve worked here. I myself was once a human being from planet Earth. Death personally chooses all his courtiers. He picks us from all the life-systems he has conquered where the end has become a mortal reality. All his courtiers are male because Death is a sadistic sexist and we hate him for it. Plus the fact that he might have chosen an all-male crew because Life is a female entity and she and he never got along. But that’s just my opinion.

  Souls leave their hosts when the body is killed, dead or dying. Their details are sent to the Hall of Reallocation, my department. The office is within walking distance of His Majesty’s throne room where I take my forms for approval and signing everyday. Krell, a short being from the Polaria life-system with a voice so annoying, at least to me, he makes me want to kill him all over again. We unfortunately cross paths. This little bugger Krell along with six or seven others is vying for my office. He does have duties of his own to carry out, but this little bully reminds me of some people I once knew when I lived on Earth. He wants it all even though he knows on the inside that he can’t do squat to manage three tasks at once.

  My position has given me a title and being the youngest soul ever to get the job, it has raised different bio-eyebrows on all sorts of souls. Being the only human in Death’s court doesn’t help my situation. I recall the rumors, ‘What if he starts a human rebellion?’ ‘What if the majority of life-forms in the Human Quadrant want him on Death’s throne?’ ‘What if this guy, being so young and oh so brilliant, wants the throne himself? I mean, there’s a reason Death never chose a human to be one among his courtiers.’

  He goes where life goes, Our Majesty does. He aims to conquer and stamp his mark on the place and collect souls to undergo his special justice program, something he likes to call Reincarnation. Hundreds of souls from different life-systems have had my job and I’m the first human to get it. Our aptitudes were found apt and a kind of program did the rest, I guess. Krell and at least ninety other souls were shortlisted. So when I stand here in my office, as plush as it can be, and stare at the nameplate that reads ‘Helidon, the Reincarnator’ I smile because I’m proud. Shouldn’t I be happy that Death chose me to manage his reincarnation program? Why must I feel afraid that my office is going to go to another when I’m the first human to take it up, this is my first vote-phase, and it’s been too short a time for any real judgement to be passed on the quality of my work?

  Oh, did I forget to mention that if you are found incapable of changing offices for more than three terms in a row your soul is fully harvested and extinguished from the universal timeline?
That’s one more reason why all of us are running to gain power and to kiss the butt of the Grand and Supreme King Death. It’s also why all the courtiers are enemies because we hold the highest collection of power-offices in this dimension. That means we don’t have enough promotion space left. I mean it’s only a few hierarchies up and Death sits at the apex. Three terms in a row, no change in office by way of promotion, if approved as reasonably mischief-free by Death, the soul in question is gone baby gone. Once we gain the highest office on the rung, namely Death’s himself, don’t expect him to say here you go, buddy, you earned it, I’m off on holiday, have fun, feed the cat, and don’t forget to keep the death rate steady. Nope, he will allocate us to the next dimension, the next higher-vibration zone where he has new lands to govern seeing as how he is constantly campaigning to conquer everything in the known Universe. If he feels like it, he’ll reincarnate that soul for duties completed, but that’s a rare thing.

  Now that you know a little something about my afterlife situation, I’d like to delve into details. After my walk from the Hall of Reallocation and passing nuisance-number-one, I sat on the plush cushioned chairs outside the Grand Chamber. It is his custom to make his courtiers wait. Unlike so many other life-forms that work for him, I’m human so I know a thing or two about waiting. I like His Majesty. He’s quite misunderstood, a loner with big dreams and someone with a Machiavellian sense of politics. I could relate to the first two but never the last one. Why I gave Death the skillset of a man who’d learned it from him in the first place is beyond me.

  Part of me always wonders why he chose me to be Reincarnator. I know I have been depressed in my human existence and all I ever received was the word ‘No’ from every direction. But does that make me the master of understanding sadness, loss, unfairness and uncertainty? Not by far, no. Yet I am given so much authority in His Majesty’s government. Granted I was found ideal to get on this ladder—if heating up from anxiety can be called work, I’m doing an ideal job—and I’m afraid I did step on a few people to get ahead. But why me and not any of the ninety or so other applicants?

  “Helidon?” The voice held a core echo. It was as smooth as honey flowing on rough boulders. There was a hint of a splash deep in the sound layers that only machines could pick up. I learned the fact from an orientation booklet I saw in the city’s library. Some of the Information Gatherer’s or IG’s were known to have studied the king’s voice and noted its mixture. All the while I was thinking this and othe things, I had to walk through the double doors after waiting for them to open, along a vast corridor decked with paintings and the richest of showpieces and finally to another set of double doors, these simpler than the first. My breathing was so loud, or was it the silence that compounded it?

  From the moment I met the King I have been terrified of him. His wings of blade and sinister design, his eyes of glowing gold, his limbs of strength and dire intent, and robe like sashes of royal excellence, not to forget that height, oh that height. Nobody really loved him. But we were all of us afraid. I wasn’t sure what I’d thought of him when I was human and I get doubly uncertain each time I see him. Here stands an entity who existed as soon as Life herself did. Were they born together? Did they plan to make and break everything? Did they have a code, rules? Could Death himself die? He was atrocious, cold, calculating, unfeeling, a miserable blight on our existence and yet there was an inexplicable feeling of passion, wonder, respect and original power as one got closer to him in physical distance. Death had an allure that each one of us wanted to master and become in our own lives.

  He motioned for me to sit. I reluctantly obeyed. I found it easier to stand in his presence. He asked for the paperwork and I opened my file without even knowing that I did. My orientation training taught me what to do for the first five months of my office. I’ll never forget that horrible cat-squeal voice of my tempo-trainer. “Take all the pending papers your predecessor left behind and take them in batches for His Majesty’s approval. Upon denial, put them back in the system. That work is then officially yours to complete over time.” Sitting there in his office, I segregated the papers that needed his signature and others that needed his perusal. They were categorized as such. He stood over me and gazed at them with eyes that could read faster than the speed of light. I was slowing him down and we both knew it but I could obviously not keep up with His Majesty. I do not know if he understood my natural limitations or if he wished to use it against me. He could do anything he wanted. All he had to do was choose based on his mood.

  “I remember the day you died.” He spoke from above, from his towering vantage. It spooked me to my core. “You decided to take matters into your own hands.” I gulped. “I never told you how much you cost me, did I Helidon? You had the aptitude for the office of Reincarnator, that at least was some bargain for your soul. You didn’t show the signs at the time but I could see it. Helidon, when you take your own life, Life comes to me to collect. You stole her of her plans for you and since all dead souls come to my halls, she demanded I pay for your mistake. I’m not completely against suicide, Helidon,” he cooed, a creepy sound, “But I don’t like it when she asks me to pay for the actions of lesser life-forms. Reincarnator, what term are you serving?”

  “My first, Your Majesty, three months in,” I said with some stuttering. I tried to stand but a hand held the back of my neck and anchored me to the chair. His hand was so warm I thought it was one of the Karals he liked to drink and that he’d placed it against my skin. It was a weird thing to imagine, I thought so after I’d left the office, but the King was known to hold his courtiers like this as a sign of affection, I think. It was frightening for a lot of reasons. I don’t even want to think about it now.

  I hurried up with the papers and we eventually completed our session. I got all the needed signatures every single one of the two thousand four hundred and six perusal papers were denied, out of which only eighty-two needed re-proposing and a fresh edit. Death had spoken, or rather he used a black raven’s feather to tick his decision on the sheets.

  “I see...” he paused. At this point, I was growing increasingly fearful of his voice, image and everything else about the King. This was not my first visit, workload or meeting with His Majesty – I have been working a couple of months with him – but each time I came in, fresh fear rushed through me. “I see that you have yet to come up with a strategy to reduce the suicide rate of life-forms in this galaxy. Why is that?”

  “It’s an unpredictable variable, my King. Those who plan to take their lives often change their minds last minute and those whom I have processed and who’ve shown remarkable passion for living end up suddenly and without warning committing suicide.”

  “You’re bold, I’ll give you that. But you’re also wasteful. With all the spirit-power I have afforded your department, are you telling me that you can’t cut at least half the suicides in that file?” I didn’t know what to tell him. The candid answer would be ‘No, my liege, I’m sorry but I cannot work with the energies you provided, they’re only object-resources not manpower’. Technically, I’d have called his judgement faulty when he’d allocated the resources in the first place. Even if I were to say ‘I’ll do my best, my King’ he was already slightly upset and wanted an answer that held facts and proof, never assurances. He hated assurances. I felt his hand leave the back of my neck. “With each new suicide, Life is growing aggressive. She’s demanding higher payments based on the amount of life-forms who take their lives in a given period of time. My treasury, though vast, cannot stand long against her interest rates. The longer you suicides stay in Quadrant City, the more the interest goes up. And don’t get me started on the freshers coming in. Helidon, I have a task for you.”

  I of course sat dumbfounded and now that his hand was off my neck and I could move again, I got up and stood to one side. He had moved to the large bay windows and looked out at nothing. It was dark outside except for the street lamps that threw shafts of white light where they could. It was a luna
r eclipse but everyone went about their business and didn’t stop to admire the five minutes of planetary darkness.

  “Seeing as how you haven’t come up with a viable idea to reduce, preferably stop, the suicides I want you to go to any of my kingdom’s quadrants and begin with an apt soul. This is Suicide City and all these people are here after having killed themselves, so I’m sure it won’t be hard for you to find a suitable interview. I want to read your reports starting with someone from the Human Quadrant. It is better to learn why they take their lives and, armed with that knowledge, find ways to stop them from doing so.”

  “About my duties, Your Majesty. Do I create a schedule for when I will visit these people and when I’ll be back in office, my liege?”

  “You will carry out your duties as Reincarnator with no lethargy. However, you shall have an assistant. This person will carry out work in your absence until you return...successful after each interview.” I gulped and stared at the polished marble floors. “Krell will be that assistant. The sooner you return the faster you can continue in the office you were chosen, until you prove that the workload is too heavy to handle.”

  I was furious that of all the people King Death had under his employ, he would make Krell my assistant. I couldn’t speak up, because that would mean admitting weakness or calling his judgement into question, terrible scenarios both. His Majesty abhors weakness. It’s why he even wanted the suicides to stop so he wouldn’t look bad in the eyes of Life who came to collect her due each time a life-form took itself away from her domain.

  “You will leave immediately. Pack what you need, fill out a form for State-purchased supplies and head out within the hour. Don’t fail me, Helidon. This is, after all, what you do. This is your job. Go do it.” He had a look in his eye that shook me. The gave off an unnerving aura. He dismissed me with a “Session complete” and I immediately got up and left the office. I’m ashamed to say that as soon as I reached the end of the long corridor, I started to run.