AfterLife

by S. P. Cloward

  “I’m not sure I understand.” Wes followed behind Emily who was making her way down the corridor toward the Den.

  Emily turned back to Wes before she passed through the doors to the Den. “Wes, you will. All you have to do is meditate. You do know what that means, don’t you?” She smiled at Wes with an “it’s simple, dummy” lift of the eyebrows, then pushed through the doors into the Den.

  Wes thought he understood what Emily was telling him. All he needed to do was retreat back into his mind. He could do that; he’d been doing it for years. He pushed through the door into the Den. Emily was collecting her crochet bag from the table where she’d left it next to one of the couches. “How long do I meditate?”

  “I’ll come get you when it’s time to get back to work,” Emily said as she walked up to Wes. “You were really great tonight. I know it was hard for you, but once you’ve made it through the training process and we can show you the real purpose of AfterLife, you’ll feel better about having to feed.” She gave Wes an understanding smile, and then pulled his face down to kiss him on the forehead for the second time that evening. “Okay, little brother, you go rest and I’ll come for you in the morning.”

  Wes lay on the cot in his room. There was no light except for a thin strip showing under the bottom of the door. He couldn’t stop thinking about the girl he’d fed on in the car. He wished he could do something for her.

  Still thinking about her, he closed his eyes, slipped into a state of meditation, and found himself walking through the familiar black nothingness. Then he saw her. She sat on a wooden bench in the nothingness; she was leaning forward, her face in her hands, and she was crying. She looked the way she saw herself. Wes approached the bench and sat down next to her.

  “Why are you crying?”

  The girl seemed startled and quickly wiped the tears from her face. It was the same blemished face Wes had seen when he synced with her at the bar earlier that night. Away from her mind, he saw her as a pretty girl; she merely saw herself as unattractive. If this was his mental projection of her, why did she look the way she saw herself? It didn’t matter. He’d let his mind play this out.

  She quickly wiped her face and composed herself. “What are you doing here?”

  Since this appeared to be a meditative exercise to ease his conscience, Wes figured he might as well work through it. “I just want to help you see how you really look to others,” Wes said. Then for lack of something better to say he added, “I’m Wes.” He extended his hand.

  The girl took it after a second of hesitation. “Vanessa.”

  “We met tonight. I don’t know if you remember.” Wes was finding the conversation a little awkward, but apparently he had a great talent for creating people in his mind. Talking to the girl was just like talking to a real person. He had no idea what she was going to say next. It was as if he really was synced with her again, but this time without looking in her eyes, and without taking any life energy from her. It had to be just in his mind.

  “I remember. You were the guy that didn’t put out.”

  “Hey,” Wes said defensively, “I was being a gentleman.” He looked away from Vanessa’s confused glare. “Anyway, I got what I was looking for even if you didn’t.”

  “What does that even mean?” She was guarded.

  This was not going well. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but for a conversation taking place in his imagination, he sure was having trouble controlling it. “Look, I’m not here to attack you. I came to try…” he trailed off. What did he want to say to her? He didn’t think he was trying to feel less guilty about taking her life force; it was more than that. Guilt is what he felt about the first girl he’d grazed from. That girl saw a future for herself and his feeding would make that future shorter, even if it was only by a day.

  Vanessa was different. She didn’t see herself as others saw her, and she didn’t see a future. She only saw the present, a miserable, pathetic day-to-day existence without expectations because she was still stuck in a miserable past. He knew from experience that an inability to visualize a future can cause someone to make poor choices in the present. No, it wasn’t guilt that made him feel bad, it was her overwhelming despair. If that was caused by the inaccurate way she saw herself, maybe she would be more optimistic and confident if she had a more realistic view of how she looked to others.

  Wes started again, “I came here to do this.” He created a full-length mirror in his mind and it appeared in front of the bench where they were sitting. “Go look into the mirror.”

  Wes couldn’t control her, but he could control what appeared in the mirror. Vanessa rolled her eyes but stood up and walked to it. As she approached the mirror, he created a reflection of her as he’d seen her. She stared at herself for a few minutes and didn’t say anything.

  “I want to show you what you really look like. How I saw you. How others see you. You’re beautiful. I thought you should know.”

  Her hands reached out to the mirror and gently touched it. The reflection was smiling because that’s what Wes created it to do. He didn’t know what Vanessa’s reaction was since her back was to him. After another minute of silence, he stood up and walked over to where she was standing and placed his hands on her shoulders as he stood next to her.

  “You’re beautiful,” he repeated. “I thought you should know that, and I think you should treat yourself that way, too.” Wes turned and began to walk away. After a few steps, he heard Vanessa whisper, “Thank you.”

  He turned, Vanessa was facing him. Her appearance was no longer the one she made up of herself but now matched the one in the mirror. “You’re welcome. Don’t forget it.” He turned back and walked away from the bench, the mirror, and Vanessa.

  Chapter 8

  It was just after one o’clock in the morning as Andre found a seat on the Red Line train headed south. There was no one else on the platform and the car he entered didn’t have any other passengers. As the “doors closing” announcement was made, a couple stepped onto the train and moved to the opposite end of the car. At least they had chosen a seat far away from him, Andre thought. After the night he’d had at work, the only thing he wanted was a little peace.

  As the train started moving, Andre pulled out his earphones and put them in his ears. He needed a little music for the commute home. The couple at the other end of the car started making out. Andre glanced at them and then away.

  Andre didn’t have anyone to make out with. His wife had left him on the heels of their daughter’s death a few months earlier. She said she couldn’t live in the darkness with him anymore. He’d suffered from depression his entire life, but for those few years after he’d met his wife and later after the birth of their little girl, he’d known what joy was. The driver of that hit-and-run had not only killed his little girl, he’d killed Andre’s family and his happiness. The depression was back and darker than ever. He no longer cried at the thought of his little girl lying in the hospital after she’d been hit by a car. If he did, he would be crying constantly.

  Working late at night wasn’t a choice but a necessity. He’d taken a second job after his daughter’s death to pay the hospital bills. She was gone, but the cost of trying to save her was not. Someone had to pay, and as it turned out, that someone was him. It was a daily reminder that he’d lost everything. His life would never be good again.

  Andre listened to his music as the couple continued kissing in the back of the car. They were really going at it. It was disgusting actually, and he had to turn up the volume to keep from hearing the slurping sounds of their lips.

  The train continued down the track, stopping at a few stations along the way. Andre waited for the couple to get off at one of the stops. After passing Chinatown, he figured the two of them must be pretty drunk. A few stops later, he exited the train. It was a clear, cold night. One of the first cold fronts of the season had passed through the day before, bringing the feeling of autumn with it.

  The street was empty as A
ndre made his way from the station to his apartment. He now lived in the basement of a house that had been split into three separate units. His was a very small studio-type room in the basement. The space included a living room, dining room, kitchen, and shower all in one room. The other two units were larger with one on each floor above his. The only good thing about his space was that the toilet wasn’t included in the all-in-the-open design. It was in a small closet between the kitchen and the shower. None of that mattered to Andre though. It wasn’t really home, no one ever visited, and after a long day of working two jobs he didn’t care where he crashed.

  About a block from the station, Andre noticed the couple from the train walking behind him on the opposite side of the street. He could hear them talking. He’d taken out his earphones, but he couldn’t decipher any distinct words. The girl laughed obnoxiously every few sentences.

  They appeared out of place in this neighborhood and could actually be in danger by being there at night. First, they were white. Second, they were dressed in nice clothes and appeared well-to-do and fairly clean cut. The girl was wearing a nice black jacket over a blouse and long tight jeans with a pair of nice flats. The guy was wearing a brown leather jacket with a scarf and a pair of jeans and athletic shoes. Third, they were calling attention to themselves by being loud. Of course, Andre thought, appearances could be deceiving and this couple could be the most dangerous people out tonight.

  After a few more blocks, the couple was now even with him on the opposite side of the street. He thought about the strangeness of this and slowed down to see if they would go ahead of him. They moved ahead a few hundred feet and then stopped to kiss, allowing Andre time to catch up. He bent over to tie his shoe and the couple continued to make out.

  Figuring it was better to get home instead of worrying about this drunken white couple, Andre continued walking. He was only a couple of blocks away.

  The couple stopped making out, sped up and walked ahead, stopping again in a dark place situated in the middle of the street ahead where there was little light. Andre continued until he was even with them. His side was also dark, and there were a couple of old abandoned commercial buildings that sat close to the street. As Andre was passing the buildings, the couple ran from the opposite side of the street toward him. He didn’t know what was going on at first but then immediately braced for contact.

  The girl took his left shoulder while the man took his right and they tackled Andre to the ground, knocking the air out of him. The force of the fall left him stunned for a second, which was enough time for the man to climb on top of him and pin down his arms. Andre tried to pull his arms up but the guy was exceptionally strong for his size. “Don’t damage him,” the girl warned. Unable to move, Andre yelled, which prompted the girl to also sit on top of his chest and their combined weight forced the air out of his lungs with only a slight whooshing sound.

  From somewhere unknown, a light came on and Andre caught a glimpse of the girl’s face. She was looking up at someone. “Took you long enough,” she said to a third person who Andre couldn’t see. The girl then looked back down at Andre and grabbed each side of his head so he couldn’t move. He thought at first she was going to kiss him, but as she aligned her face with his their eyes met.

  When Andre opened his eyes, he was alone in a white room and was strapped down to some sort of operating table. An IV had been attached to his arm. He didn’t know where he was or why, only that he didn’t want to be there. He tried to lift his arms to gauge how strong the straps were and if there was a possibility that one of them might give him enough leeway to maneuver out of them. The straps had no give and even though he was strong by any standard, there was no way he would be able to break out of his current situation.

  A tall, skinny man with gray hair entered the room. He was older but not old. His eyes were slightly recessed into his skull, resulting in dark shadowing around his eyes. He took no notice of Andre, but walked to a nearby table and began prepping syringes from vials of clear liquid.

  Andre recognized the girl who had attacked him when she entered the room. “I’ll go get Rahul,” she said when she saw that he was awake. She turned and walked back out of the room. The gray-haired man looked over at Andre and then returned to the vials on the table.

  A few minutes later the girl returned with a tall Indian-American man.

  “I like the way this guy looks,” the man said. “Tough. Let’s hope it works this time.”

  “It’ll work this time.” The gray-haired man finished filling one syringe with the liquid from one vile, and another with the fluid from a second. He then emptied the contents of the first syringe into the IV. “Jezebel, you hold the eyes so Rahul can sync. Once the transfer is done, you will have to clear Rahul’s body out of the way so I can jab this into this man’s heart.” He motioned to Andre while picking up the second syringe.

  Having already attempted to escape, Andre didn’t try again. He didn’t know what they wanted, but he was sure he was about to die, and this was as good a death as any. He thought about his daughter lying in the hospital. He knew he would see her soon. He knew she was in heaven. He thought about all that he was leaving behind: two jobs he hated and a one-room basement apartment that he tried to convince himself he didn’t hate. Death really was a better option.

  The room began to get blurry. At first Andre thought it was a result of the liquid the gray-haired man emptied into his IV, but then he realized he was crying. He hadn’t cried in a while. He tried to hold back the tears. His captors might think he was crying because he was afraid, but he wasn’t. He was happy to be going to see his daughter. He was happy that it was all finally over.

  His eyes slowly began to shut and Andre heard the gray-haired man say that it was time. The girl held his eyelids open as the man named Rahul looked into his eyes. He felt himself lift out of his body and without questioning the sensation, let go of life.

  Chapter 9

  Wes remained in the darkness of his mind. He wasn’t ready to enter his park yet, but instead walked along in the nothingness. Curiosity beckoned him to explore the blackness. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced in life, asleep or awake. When he looked down he could see his body as if he were standing in a fully lit room, but there was nothing beyond him, and it wasn’t “light” that allowed him to see himself. Nor was he able to see anything else. It was true nothingness.

  Wes re-created the bench and mirror he fashioned during his encounter with Vanessa. He walked away from the exchange wishing he’d made a difference in her life, but he knew there was no possible way for this to be true. They hadn’t synced. The entire meeting only existed in his mind; a creation of fantasy not fact. He thought of the change in her appearance that took place before he withdrew from the sync with her, but the more he pondered the events of the encounter, the more he recognized it for what it was – a selfish attempt to ease his guilt. The bench and mirror disappeared as if to confirm the truth of his thought.

  Wes continued to walk along in the darkness. If only there was someone he could talk to, but no one came to mind. Admittedly that was the real problem, wasn’t it? Even if he were still alive, he had no one he could confide in. How had he let himself become so isolated from everything – from everyone?

  He thought of Emily. An instant connection to her had formed the first moment he saw her. It must have been her demeanor or maybe her eyes. Their appearance was one of kindness. Regardless of the reason, the instant kinship he felt toward her allowed him to be easily pulled into her mind to share her own sanctuary. He began to think about her beautiful beach and his first experience with soul-syncing, and suddenly he realized he was there again. The surroundings were just as he remembered them from his first sync with her. There was the pier that one could walk toward forever but never get any nearer to, the glowing fish in the water, the starry night, and the white sand at his feet.

  “Wes?” Emily’s surprised voice came from behind him and he turned to see her sitting in
the sand. He must have walked past her without even realizing it. Or more accurately, he probably just created her.

  “Hi Emily.” Wes retraced his footsteps and sat down next to Emily on the sand. He might as well enjoy the companionship, even if it was a companion of his own creation. “Wow, I didn’t know I could re-create other Mortuis.”

  Emily’s expression was confused. “What are you doing here?”

  “Oh, I didn’t have anywhere else to go,” Wes said, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. “My theme park isn’t ready to be used as a sanctuary and I was tired of walking around in the nothingness, so I guess I created your beach to use. I hope you don’t mind if I borrow it.”

  Emily quickly stood and pushed Wes with her foot, knocking him over in the sand. “I sure as hell do mind that you’re here. I’m also dumbfounded as to how you got here.”

  Wes stared up at her, amazed at his realistic accomplishment of creating this convincing version of Emily. Just as in his recent visit with Vanessa, he seemed to have no control over the conversation. The interaction felt real, but how could it be? He’d created her and her sanctuary in his mind. Hadn’t he? He stood up and brushed himself off.

  “I think I’m sorry,” Wes said nonchalantly. “I didn’t think you would be so upset about me re-creating your imaginary world.” He was now facing Emily and stared at her with a slightly puzzled look. “And I especially didn’t expect my creations to protest their creation. I wonder why I made you so angry? Matter of fact, I don’t remember creating you at all.”