Afterlife Tour Guide

A man in a black sweater stood alone in a white room that seemed to go on forever in any direction. His boots crunched under him from the chunks of dirt still stuck in his soles. He only took a few steps and looked around, unsure how he got here. 

"Where am I?" he said to the white void, not really expecting an answer. 

He kept looking around until he saw a black figure in the distance. The figure made no noise, but kept coming closer. The man stood his ground, hoping whoever was approaching him would explain something to him. He cracked his back and shook out his arms, expecting a fight. 

"No need to limber up, my friend. No one can hurt you here," the figure said to the man. "What is your name?"

"I ain't telling you shit!" the man yelled.

The figure floated over to him with the speed of a bullet stopping inches from him. The man swung at the figure, who was dressed in an olive suit, but his fist phased through the figure's black skin. 

"Don't worry, my friend. You are safe here," the figure said, adjusting his grey tie. 

The man backed up and started to breathe fast and shallow. He could see the figure standing in front of him was just another man.

"What the hell are you?" the man asked.

"I'm your tour guide, Darrel. Would you like to begin?"

"Tour guide? What is this place?"

"This is the afterlife. You're dead," Darrel said with a friendly smile.

"I'm… dead?" the man said, looking around.

"I can see you did not attend the orientation."

"Orientation?"

"Well, I'll just get to it. Congratulations, you're dead. Before you are sorted into your assigned afterlife housing, I am here to guide you through your past experiences. You know, a trip down memory lane."

"Is this like some Ghost of Christmas past bullshit?"

"Yes, except at the end you don't get to go back. Do you want to begin?"

"How does the housing work?" he asked, trying to see how long Darrel could hold up his story.

"You get put into one of three houses based on what we go through today. I like to call them Upperton, Lowerton, and Middleton. When we step through this door–" Darrel said and snapped his fingers. A wood door with an engraving of the sun peeking through the clouds appeared next to them. "... we will be transported to your most impactful adult experiences. I will show you around and after we spend some time at each one, The Appraisers will determine your housing."

"So, those religious nuts were wrong about this whole afterlife stuff?"

"Not entirely. Upperton is super nice and Lowerton is… not. You don't want to be in Lowerton."

"Why don't I want to be in Lowerton? Is it Hell?"

"Let's begin the tour, shall we?" Darrel said and pushed the man inside the door. The man put his hands up as he fell toward the door and everything went black.

The man opened his eyes and felt the hard asphalt below him. People in long shorts and t-shirts ran past him, chasing after a woman who was dribbling a basketball ball up to the hoop. She was faster and taller than everyone else and leapt in the air. The ball went rocketing down through the hoop as she hung on to the rim.

"Had enough yet?" she said with a big grin on her face. 

The other men caught up to her and stopped to catch their breath, unable to make a fun comeback. Standing amongst them was Darrel, holding a clipboard. 

"Augustus. Funny, I figured you for a Billy," Darrel mused to himself as he walked closer to the man. 

"How do you know my name?" he asked. 

Darrel held up the clipboard and pointed to it. "Clipboard."

"What are we doing here?"

"From what I am reading here, this was the first time you met, Aieshea. Isn't she a bit tall for you?" Darrel said, looking back at the giant woman. 

"I thought you were going to mention my skin. Everyone else did," Augustus said, walking toward her, mostly ignoring Darrel. 

"You do look a little ashy. You should've probably used more moisturizer when you were alive."

Augustus didn't hear him, focusing solely on how Aieshea's long dreadlocks flowed over her shoulders. Her face glistened from sweat, distracting him from her vibrant yellow tank top and blue shorts. He walked toward her and a smile crept across his face. 

"Aieshea, it's me," he said, giving her a wave. 

She looked through him as if he wasn't there before one of the other guys got her attention. 

"Hey Aieshea, we are going to call it for today. Want to join us for some food?" one of the men asked. 

"No, I have to check on my mother. Next time." Aieshea responded, jogging to her duffle bag near the fence.

Augustus didn't move, watching her run off with a delightful spring in her step. On the other side of the fence was himself, pushing a cart full of empty cans. He looked worse for wear, covered in dirty rags, but she didn't see him that way. Darrel stood next to the black clad Augustus and hugged his clipboard against his chest.

"You were homeless?" Darrel asked.

"Not for long. Today was the day I finally got a job. It was the second best day of my life," Augustus said, watching the conversation that was going on between his past self and Aieshea. They were both laughing.

"I apologize for my lack of knowledge about your life. Whoever prepared my documents didn't give me much. Usually I am supposed to read back what you two are saying here."

Augustus kept his head forward and smirked. "We were talking about shoes. I told her I got mine at Men's Warehouse."

"You'll like the way you look–"

"I guarantee it," Augustus finished. He watched Aieshea lean against the fence, noticing she was smitten with him. Seeing that moment again brought back joy he had lost a long time ago. A few more seconds went by before their surroundings faded away like it was swept up in a whirlwind of color. "What's happening?”

"The next stop. Think of it like a bus tour. We don't stop for long," Darrel said, paging through his clipboard papers. "Next stop… the hospital?"

White walls came flying toward them, encasing them inside. The bed came up from the ground and a privacy curtain blocked their view. Metal could be heard rumbling around, followed by the beeps of a heart monitor. Augustus swiped at the curtain and in front of him was Aieshea, attached to several machines. He saw himself at her side, crying into the bed. His own sobs were muffled by the wet sheets. 

Augustus was frozen in place, watching as an outsider. He didn't cry like his previous self, instead seeing her death as a new opportunity. 

"You said I'm dead, right?" Augustus asked. 

Darrel shook his head. "No coming back I'm afraid."

"Can I see her?"

"Aieshea?" Darrel asked.

Augustus gave Darrel a glare that didn't need words. Darrel looked through his pages, checking to see how long it would be. 

"We have a few more stops to make. Are you sure you don't want to savor the memory?" Darrel asked.

"Not this one. Is there any way we can skip a few of these?

Darrel looked him up and down. "I'm not supposed to…"

"But you can?"

Darrel scrunched his face. It was his first tour, but it hadn't been going well to begin with. He had no idea what the next few even were. Whoever prepared his forms was in a big hurry to put something down that they didn't bother to check to see if it was legible.

"If you let me listen to this one I will skip a few for you?" Darrel offered. 

Augustus nodded and Darrel walked closer to the couple. The Augustus near the bed lifted his head from the sheet and whispered in her ear.

"I swear to you, Aieshea. I'm going to make those guys pay for what they did to you."

Darrel raised his eyebrow with intrigue and turned to face his tourist. "What happened?"

"She was shot when we were coming back from a comedy show. On the same night I asked her to marry me."

Darrel's eyes started to dart back and forth, thinking about what was coming next. Augustus wasn't much older than he was in this memory and with a few more stops to go, it wasn't looking good for him. 

"Did you make good on your promise?"

"You said we could skip a few," Augustus said, ignoring his question.

Darrel watched Augustus's face turn stern and cold. He knew Augustus did something bad and maybe that was why his form preparers did such a bad job. To Darrel's knowledge, every experience they review would go to judgment, which left him with a choice. Break his promise and follow the agenda as laid out or skip to the end and hope one of his final acts was not bad enough to be sent to Lowerton. He had a feeling Aieshea was going to Upperton or at least Middleton. He was starting to think Augustus would not be so lucky.

"We have to make one stop before the end," Darrel said, paging through his unreadable pages. He stopped at a page that was much more legible than the rest. It was mostly abbreviations he wasn't familiar with, but he figured the non legible stuff was bad. At least this might be okay. He snapped his fingers and their environment was wiped away in an instant.

They were left in a black void for a moment before blood streaked across the darkness like a painting. Screams of pain and terror echoed around them before they saw Augustus holding a bloody kitchen knife. He was smiling with blood stained teeth and his chest rose up and down from whatever horror he unleashed upon his victims. Bodies came into view, all young men with lacerations and puncture wounds. One in particular spit up blood on the stained couch, looking up at his killer. 

"Where is he?" Augustus yelled as the apartment surroundings came into view, all covered in blood or grime.

"I don't know. I swear," the young man said, holding up his bloody hand. 

"If you don't know, why keep you alive?" he said and went in to kill the young man.

"Please, no!"

"Give me a reason."

The young man pointed past Augustus. "He might be at the old shop."

"Old shop. Where is that?"

"On 4th and Grand. It is an abandoned gas station."

"I know it. Why would he be there?" 

"I hear he does deals there. I've never seen it, but De'Andre had."

"Which one is De'Andre? I want to confirm with him," Augustus said, looking around the room of dying people. 

"You killed him," the young man said, pointing to one on the floor with his neck slit. 

"If I find out you're lying to me, I'll be back," Augustus said and left the room. 

Darrel and the not bloody Augustus stood still. Darrel's mouth was agape while Augustus kept a neutral expression. Darrel looked back at his clipboard frantically, hoping he made some kind of mistake. It was no mistake. The MM initials must have meant Mass Murder and the double digits number next to it, the body count.

"Why would you do this?"

Augustus turned to Darrel. "I said those responsible would pay. I'm not one to not follow up on my promises."

Darrel looked back at the bodies, still horrified by what he had witnessed. 

"Are we going to keep going or do you get a real kick out of this?" Augustus asked.

Darrel gulped and turned away from the massacre. He was glad he didn't have to go through the other memories, since many would have likely been just as terrible. He closed his eyes and snapped his fingers. This was going to be the last stop. Augustus's end.

Appearing on a grass soccer field that hugged a forest tree line, lights shined down upon them. They were facing the outlet of a trail and they could hear movement in the brush. It was too dark to see, but they both knew it was Augustus. He slinked in the dark, waiting for a crowd of people that were walking to the field. The people were laughing and drinking, unconcerned about who was waiting for them. One of the men in the group was wearing bright red shoes and a tan suit. He was the man of the hour. The one Augustus was hell-bent on killing. 

Darrel looked at Augustus, who had a balled up fist. He clenched his teeth while waiting to see what he himself was about to do to the unsuspecting victim. Darrel returned his attention to the scene in front of them, waiting for the tragic end. 

Augustus burst out from the bushes launching himself at the man. Before he could do any real damage, the man's friend punched him in the head. That was all it took. One punch and Augustus was out for good. 

"What! That's it?" Augustus said, outraged by what had transpired. 

"Was there supposed to be more?"

"I killed him! I know it did!" Augustus objected. 

"I'm seeing the same thing you are."

Augustus ran over to the men, who were now laughing at his corpse. He went in for a tackle, but phased right through him. His shoulder slammed into the ground that felt more like concrete than soft grass. He shook with rage, watching the man behind his fiance's death laughing with glee. Before he could get up again, everything went back to white.

"Where did he go? Bring him back!" Augustus ordered. 

Darrel put up his hands. "That is the end. I can't go back."

"No!" he said, getting up. "He can't still be alive!"

"He is. And you're not."

"That's not how this was supposed to go. It's not fair," Augustus said, pacing back and forth. 

"Neither was taking those young men's lives, yet it still happened."

"They deserved it!"

"And you didn't deserve what happened to you?"

"They killed her, you bastard! What else was I supposed to do?"

"You could have let it go."

"Let it go." Augustus scoffed with utter disgust. "Let it go?"

"Yes. You could've lived your life in peace. Kept her in your heart. Instead you tried to avenge her and sacrificed your chance at being with her for all eternity."

"What is that supposed to mean? You said I could see her."

"I never said that. I said I could fast forward through the other memories, which I'm sure were just as terrible. I have no say if you can see her."

Augustus stepped to him. "Then who does?"

"The Appraisers. Remember how I said these memories would determine how you are housed."

Augustus thought back to those words and the memories he revisited. He never thought about how his actions would affect him later, nor did he believe he had a chance to see her again when he was alive. The mere thought of now knowing she was still around, but he would never see her again cut him to the core. His stomach twisted and he wanted to vomit. 

"Please, can you do anything?" Augustus said softly, trying not to empty his stomach. 

Darrel sighed. "I did all I could. In the end, our actions have consequences."

Three doors came rushing across the ground toward them. One was rustic and had dents in it, another was sky blue with no blemishes at all, and the final one was pure black with red hot chains strapped across it. He could hear the screams of thousands and steam leak from the bottom of the black door. On the top it was labeled what he thought, Lowerton.

Augustus decided to make his own destiny and ran to the blue door. He knew Aieshea was there and he didn't want to live another moment without her. Not again. His shoulder hit the door, but it did not budge. The door swung open, knocking him back on the floor. Augustus hit his head against the ground, but still caught a glimpse of what would have awaited him in the blue door. Aieshea was on the other side, her back toward him. He knew it was her from the dreadlocks and how she stuck her hip out to one side. That image was soon gone, with the black door moving in front and towering over him. It lowered itself onto him as he screamed, pleading for another fate. The white room became quiet once the door had consumed its latest tenet and disappeared below the floor.

Darrel tucked his clipboard under his arm. "I'm gonna have a word with whoever gave me this guy. This is hazing at best."

In Seven Minutes

“In seven minutes you’ll either die or meet the love of your life. Good luck!” the voice over the intercom said.

Mike's stomach gurgled louder than the intercom and no one paid him any mind either. Kenneth was still yammering about Q3 sales being at an all time high and Kelly was so close to her phone screen, her nose did half of the typing. The rest of the people were focused on Kenneth's presentation, but Mike couldn't shake what he heard.

"Excuse me, did anyone hear what the intercom said?" Mike asked, raising his hand with caution.

All eyes shifted to him, except Kelly who was still determined to continue texting. His skin crawled and he sank down into his seat, hoping the soulless eyes of the company's investors would stop looking at him.

"I didn't hear anything except the sweet sound of us making lots of money," Kenneth said, sending the boardroom into an roar of laughter.

Mike gave a weak chuckle and his tension disappeared as everyone turned back to Kenneth. Mike knew what he heard and the fact that no one else did made him nervous. Did he question his sanity? No, not for a second. He questioned his ability to find the love of his life in seven minutes. If the last few years were any indication, he was doomed. Not to mention this presentation still had another thirty minutes left.

He contemplated leaving the meeting, but money was tight with his father's surgery. Mike needed this job. If he did die, at least the company would pay out the life insurance. Sure it went to his dog, Charles, but his good boy would gladly surrender the money. Charles probably liked his father more anyways. Before Mike's thoughts got too far away from him, the door slammed open.

"Everybody on the ground now!" a woman wearing worn brown tactical gear yelled. She shot a volley of bullets from her AK-47 across the room into the glass wall behind him.

Everyone complied, except Kelly who was still somehow entrenched in her phone. Mike put his hands up and the scary woman pointed her gun at him.

"Not you. Stand up," she said, gesturing to Mike.

Mike stood up slowly, not wanting to get shot by a trigger happy woman. "Please don't kill me. Take whatever you want."

"I'm not here for your money," the woman said, vaulting over the boardroom table. "I'm here to send a message."

"What–is–that?" Mike sputtered.

"That we will rise from our oppressor's!"

"Who is that? You can't possibly mean us."

Her brown eyes stared into Mike's, going nose to nose with him. She did not look away, poking the hot barrel into his stomach. Mike jumped back and swatted the rifle away from himself out of reflex.

"What's the matter? Can't handle a little heat? You should try actually working for your company. Gets hotter than that," she said with a venomous smile.

"Please don't hurt me." Mike begged.

"I won't hurt you...more than you hurt my people."

She raised her rifle and Mike closed his eyes, not wanting to see it happen. Instead of the bark of the rifle, he heard the sound glass shattering. Mike opened his eyes to see a person in all black tactical gear wrestling with the armed woman. The rifle went off a few times before the person in the black tactical gear ripped the rifle away from her and threw it out the shattered pane of glass. In seconds the insane woman was in handcuffs and knocked out with a swift punch to the head.

Mike looked at his hero in awe. It was just like the movies. The rest of the tactical team flooded into the room and took the insane woman away without much hassle. Only Mike's hero stayed, walking up to him.

"Are you okay?" Mike's hero asked.

Mike nodded his head, unable to speak. Not because of his new trauma, but because of who was staring back at him. A gorgeous woman. Removing her helmet to let her flawless brown hair lap over her shoulders, she smiled back with the warmth of a thousand suns. He had seen plenty of women like her in the movies, but never in person, let alone in a SWAT uniform.

"Are you sure you are alright?" Officer Kimbell asked.

"Yes. Why do you ask?"

"Because there is a hole in your shirt."

Mike looked down upon his seared shirt and laughed. "That's what I get for shopping at the dollar store."

Officer Kimbell laughed and moved on to check on the rest of the people behind him. Mike was unable to look away from her as she passed him. He thought to himself, 'If she is the love of my life, I will die a happy man.' Mike went to lean on the pane of glass with one hand without looking away from her, when he realized too late it was not there anymore.

He fell out of the building and down twelve stories. The whole way down Mike kept thinking if it had been seven or eight minutes since that mysterious intercom message. Either way he was at the mercy of gravity and she was a cruel mistress. So kids, what do you think? Was he destined to die or just dumb as a brick?