by Mur Lafferty
Daniel had no facial expression as he walked to the picket fence to purgatory and opened it.
“Wow,” I said, unable to stop myself. When we had traveled through purgatory, it had looked like concentric circles ending in Heaven, but now it looked like seven fields lined up before us, with gates between them all, and the final glowing gate-the one to heaven-at the very end of the field for the lustful. The same angel with the flaming sword guarded it.
Each purgatory had its own sword-wielding angel that patrolled it, and as Daniel opened the gate, each angel flew forward.
Some of the emperors, previously looking pleased and cocky, began to exchange glances. An angel with a brightly flaming sword stepped in front of the group that had answered some form “sex” to the question. He swung his sword and it sliced through the group, not cutting them, but setting each aflame.
They screamed in pain and confusion and I turned my head. I couldn’t block out their screams, though, and realized I was meant to witness this, like I’d witnessed everything before.
I turned back and winced as the men continued to scream and run about. The other men had begun to weep or look outraged. Only Claudius’s and Nero’s groups looked calm.
“Now you will be purged of the lustful flame,” the angel said. He opened his arms and grew, causing me and Daniel to step backward. He embraced all of the flaming men and flew off to deposit them in the furthest-most field.
“Now listen, girl,” one emperor said. “We are divinely chosen. What we did, we did for Rome. You’ve no right to judge us thusly.”
I shrugged. “Then why are the angels listening to us?”
A gray-robed angel, this time a female, stepped up to his group, smiling serenely.
“No. I won’t go. I will stay here. It is my right!” he cried, stepping backward. But she opened her robe and out flowed an acrid gray mist. As the men cried out in blind terror, it surrounded them, clouding them as their wrath had clouded their vision in life. She closed her robes around the mist, leaving nothing behind. Taking wing, she flew off to the hazy field of the wrathful.
An angel to represent pride buried his group in an avalanche, forcing each to carry huge stones to the nearest field, staring at the ground to learn humility.
The green-robed angel who represented avarice tossed out tight ropes to bind the fourth group, and dragged them, bumping and screaming, to their new home where they were to be tied face down.
The final group had begun to look uneasy, although still much less panicked than the others.
“So,” Daniel said, as if asking about their favorite sports team. “How have you four spent the last two thousand years or so?”
Caesar stepped forward. “Reflecting on our reign, mostly. Watching the world unfold, watching what we created grow. We saw the strides forward we took the human race, and rejoiced. We saw, too late, the mistakes we made, and we mourned.”
Octavius nodded. “I have committed the same as my fellows. Pride, wrath, lust, and more, besides. Why are we not with the others? Do we belong in one of the three remaining fields? I know I felt sloth and gluttony, although…” Here, he smiled, “I have to admit that the emperor of Rome had few people to be envious of.”
Daniel smiled. “Odin was fond of riddles, but I thought the original riddle he told regarding Baldur’s funeral was somewhat unfair. Mine was designed to test your morals, to test what you have learned. You’ve had thousands of years of relaxation while your betters have suffered in hopes of someday getting half the reward you enjoyed because of your assumed divinity. I have to admit I’m surprised that four of you were smart enough to pass the test.”
The angel guarding the final gate stepped forward, then.
“Now, I don’t know if I’m right here. This guy is the only one qualified to let you in. But I think you’re ready. Kate, what do you think?”
I looked them over. I’d quibbled over only one man: Emperor Vitellius, a pudgy man who had answered “age” in a bored way immediately upon addressing us.
I stepped back and gestured toward the angel. He stepped forward and took the arms of Caesar, Claudius, and Octavius and flew off, leaving Vitellius sputtering behind.
We waved at the departing angel. “You think they really deserve heaven?” Daniel asked.
I shrugged. “More than anyone else here. And that’s what we were judging, right?”
“What is the meaning-” Vitellius asked, his red jowls shaking.
One of the last angels stepped forward, a thin, androgynous one. Its bony hand wrapped tightly around Vitellius’s wrist and carried him away.
“Huh. I guess I was wrong,” Daniel said as they flew off, Vitellius howling in rage. “He’s going to be spending some time pondering his gluttony, I guess.”
I tugged on Daniel’s shirt. “Two left, don’t forget.”
He groaned slightly. “I was hoping they’d run away while our backs were turned.”
“Wow,” I whispered. “I’d heard incompetent people can’t comprehend that they’re incompetent, but damn, these guys are completely unaware that they’re douches. Look at them.”
Nero and Caligula watched us, proudly waiting, no doubt, for their reward.
Daniel sighed. He unsheathed Izanami’s katana, and Nero stepped back. “This was a gift given to me by a death goddess. I didn’t want to accept it at first. But now I know what I have to do with it.”
“Now, wait a moment,” Nero began, but Daniel raised the katana and sliced the space in front of him.
The air itself separated and bled, and a powerful vacuum tore the slice wider. The men screamed and tried to run, but Kazuko was there with her blade at their throats. Caligula, incredibly, tried to fight her, and with blinding speed she lopped off his hands. With no means of fighting her, he tumbled head over heels past Nero into the rip. Nero soon followed, howling. When they were gone, Daniel passed his hand over the rip and it disappeared.
It wasn’t until the violence was over did I realize I had my hands clapped over my mouth, pressing my lips into my teeth, stuffing the screams back into my mouth. A roaring filled my ears and I actually looked for a river there, in the middle of the afterlife. I looked away from the bloody ground before my best friend and his bodyguard, and tried to will away the blackness crowding out my sight.
“I will not faint,” I said through gritted teeth, and breathed in deeply.
I jumped and nearly screamed at a light touch on my back. “Remember, judging those in purgatory was your idea,” Kazuko whispered. “Do not blame him for this.”
I swallowed bile. “I know. But actually seeing it happening is something else.”
“The first time I drew blood with my blade I vomited,” Kazuko said. “It is something you, regrettably, get used to.”
I still couldn’t look at her. I sat down and put my head between my legs to steady myself.
“All right, it’s done,” came Daniel’s voice. I raised my head and he stood there, looking immensely tired. “They’re all on their way to their final resting place. That’ll teach them.”
“That was pretty intense,” I said. “I didn’t know you could do that with your sword.”
He smiled. “Neither did I. But at least it can get us where we’re going faster.”
My jaw dropped. “You’re not serious.”
“I think I can control it, and the sooner we get there and stop messing with this afterlife paperwork, the sooner we can get back home,” he said.
He helped me to my feet and brushed some hair out of my eyes. “You okay?”
I glanced once at Kazuko and nodded. “I’m just glad you didn’t have that sword when I was dating Kirk sophomore year.”
He laughed then, and the knot in my chest loosened a bit. “Me too. I really did hate that guy.”
He brought the sword up again and sliced the air open. This time, the wind blew out, hot and burning.
“We’re really going in there?” I asked.
“Yeah. It’s going to suck,
but at least we have swords,” Daniel said.
“I don’t.”
“We’ll work on that.”
CHAPTER THREE
I don’t know what I expected, really. Cartoon hell, with flames and a grinning fat devil with horns and no sexual organs, perhaps with Bugs Bunny in the background, taking it all in stride? No, wait, Daffy Duck. Bugs would never go to Hell. He was too clever for that.
Yes, clever people don’t go to Hell. Right. And yet here we were, voluntarily walking there.
Some people say that they love someone so much that they’d go to hell and back for them. As far as I know, Daniel and I are the only ones who actually went through with it. Daniel for his sister, and me, for Daniel. Of course. Hadn’t it always been that way?
Well, that was unfair. He’d given his eye for me. The least I could do was follow him to hell.
Well, Kazuko was with us too. At first I watched her surreptitiously, when I didn’t think she would notice, but she always met my eyes. After that, I didn’t conceal my studying of her. I couldn’t figure her out. She spoke more to me than she did to Daniel, but was always at his side, ready to skewer something or someone who threatened him. What drove her? Was it truly just honoring the death goddess who had given her the order to protect him?
Currently there was little to protect him from but boredom. Hell looked to be a lot like heaven, so far. The road was a little harder, the scenery more wilted, and the wind hotter, but honestly, it was a road like any other.
“So,” I said, trying to break the monotony, “do you think we’re going to hit another roundabout like Heaven?”
“Well, if this whole thing was built by Satan after being cast down, then maybe. It’s possible that he didn’t have much in the way of architectural creativity.”
My breath caught in my throat. “Or maybe he did.”
Dark walls came into view, looming in the distance, as high as the gates of heaven. As we got closer we saw that the walls were made of obsidian, with great jagged spires jutting out from the surface. The road led to a tiny doorway.
Each of the pointed spikes had a person skewered there, many still alive. They screamed, writhed, or simply hunched over and wept quietly. We approached one, a large, beefy man with a crew cut. A spike jutted from his middle and he breathed in quick, shallow breaths. A thin stream of blood ran from his mouth and he stared straight ahead.
“Greetings, Travelers,” he whispered as we reached him.
It felt hypocritical to make small talk here. I swallowed and then finally spoke. “So, uh, what did you do?”
His eyes never left the point on the horizon, much like a military man. “My wife died in childbirth and I was forced to raise our newborn son myself. He cried all the time. I beat him to make him stop crying. I killed him.”
My lip curled, but I had to remind myself I would likely meet much worse during my travels. “Can you tell me what this hell is?”
He lost his composure, coughed out a laugh, and then groaned. “This is not hell. This is the entrance to hell. This is where the cowards are, the people who can’t bear the thought of what goes on inside. We have the choice to impale ourselves here or face our proper punishment within the walls.”
“You did this to yourself?” Daniel asked.
The man nodded. His breaths came faster and he coughed again, spewing flecks of blood. “I am impaled here, then I die, then I return and see if I can face the terrors of hell.”
Daniel frowned. “Why would anyone choose Hell, if this looks like an easy way out?”
The soldier guy coughed once more and then slumped over, his eyes closed. His body slid slowly off the spike and fell to the ground to crumble into dust.
Another soul slid off her spike and crumbled beside him.
Daniel turned and watched the road behind us. “Why aren’t they coming back down the road?”
“Hell is a solitary place,” Kazuko answered. “You do not meet anyone on the road.”
“Huh. I thought hell was other people,” I said.
Daniel gripped his katana, flexing his fingers on the grip. “I’m sure it is, somewhere inside.”
He looked into the dark tunnel. “Let’s get it over with.”
#
Little things changed inside the tunnel. Instead of flashlights, we found greasy torches in our backpacks, torches that smoked and flared and made us cough. Our traveling robes were a dark gray, and the traveler necklaces were dark garnets instead of white diamonds.
When the tunnel ended at a T intersection, Daniel swore. “We’re in a maze. Heaven is a roundabout; hell is a maze. Any idea where we should go?”
I thought for a moment and pointed to the right bend. “How about that way?”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Can you think of a reason to go left? Is Odin helping you out here at all?”
“Well. No. I don’t think his information will help out much unless we visit Hel.”
“Daniel, we are in hell.”
“No, Hel. H-E-L. The underworld of the Norse. Named for its ruler. Who, by the way, isn’t there anymore.”
“Where did Hel go?”
“We saw her briefly at Ragnarök. She was in a ship made of the nail clippings of the damned.”
I snorted. “Nail clippings.”
“Hey, I didn’t make it up. I’m sure when she started making the ship, it was terribly scary.”
“Right. Because now it’s just gross.”
He sighed. We’d reached another intersection. He looked at me, and I shrugged and motioned to go straight. “She was arriving when we were leaving Ragnarök. Tyr was waiting for her boat. I’ve got a freaking god in my head and I still don’t understand waiting for your prophetic death. I don’t know why you wouldn’t do whatever you could to avoid it, try to stop it. Anything.”
Kazuko made a small sound. “Prophecies are smarter than most people. Stronger, too.”
“I guess so. Still seems silly to just stand there and wait for it.”
“If he had tried to avoid it, he still would have ended up there, waiting for her. It’s a difficult thing, avoiding your destiny.”
Daniel stayed silent. I kept leading our way through the labyrinth, not sure where we were going, just following my intuition. Finally, the corridor opened up into a huge room with miles of velvet ropes forming people into queues. Everyone there was Asian, waiting patiently in their lines.
Some had little more than the clothes they wore, others carried bags of food, and still others counted money. The brightly colored bills flashed in their hands and I caught sight of people such as John F. Kennedy and Marilyn Monroe on the face.
Daniel and I looked as one to Kazuko.
She rewarded us with a tight smile. “I am Japanese, not Chinese.”
Daniel waved her off. “But you carry a Chinese sword. And you know kung fu. You’re not fooling me.”
She sighed. “This is a Buddhist hell. Not exactly the same place of torment that the Christians and other religions think of, but more of a filing place. They call it hell because Christian missionaries told them that hell was where they went when they died, meaning if they died without becoming a Christian. So the Chinese just adopted the word.
“Huh. When are we going to reach the hellfire and damnation parts?” Daniel asked.
I punched his arm.
“Well I’m just saying it’s getting a little anticlimactic to keep seeing these places that are almost hell but not quite.”
I shook my head. “Do we see any souls here? Lost souls, I mean.”
The room stretched into the distance; we had no idea how large it was. It was filled with countless souls, all standing patiently in lines.
I scratched my head. “So what are they waiting on?”
“They wait for an audience with Yama.”
“Yama?”
“The king of the dead. He was a hermit who was seconds away from enlightenment when some thieves interrupted his meditation and slew him. He
became a wrathful spirit, taking on the head of the bull and first killing the thieves, then hunting nearly all of Tibet, but was stopped by a Bodhisattva. Yama relented, but is still quite wrathful. He now judges all Buddhists.” Kazuko looked at me. “People are judged worthy of reincarnation or a suffering eternity in one of the Narakas now.”
“Do I want to know what they are?”
“Eight levels of suffering in the cold and eight levels of suffering in the heat.”
I shivered.
Daniel descended the steps in front of us and we followed. More and more people filed into the room, and I remembered the wars on Earth and how billions were dying. This room could be a hell in itself as the overload of people waited for Yama to assign them to their next life. But where would that life be if the world was a hulking ball of radiation?
Daniel accidentally tripped over a small couple fussing over a spilled box on the ground.
“Oh, man, I’m sorry. Can I help you clean up?” He reached for one of the stray pieces of paper, but the woman slapped his hand. He withdrew it quickly, and Kazuko stiffened at my side.
The woman scrabbled around, snatching the lost pieces of paper. “Hands off! Hands off our notes!”
“He wasn’t going to steal them,” I said. “Is everything all right?”
They got all of the paper stuffed back into the box and glared up at us. “Our notes. Not yours.”
“We don’t want your notes!” Daniel said, his voice rising in frustration.
“What are notes?” I asked.
The woman got on all fours and gathered her legs under her and stood up, looking like a frog. She sighed when she finally got righted and looked at me with pity. “No notes. Poor girl. No notes, no goodies. No bribing the great and terrible Yama for a better life.”
The old man shook his head. “Did your children not burn Hell notes for you?”
I blushed. “We, uh, don’t have any kids.”
He looked at us with pity. “It will be a long wait for you, then. Only the Hell notes will get you through the line.”
They passed us then, heading to the end of the line where a robed man took a handful of bills from them, and opened one of the velvet ropes to let them through. The longer lines looked to be made of poorer people while people in the shorter lines looked much wealthier. It was like an airport boarding line; first class to the right, everyone else to the left.
