“Wait! Seriously? I wake up from a fucking coma and this is all I get? A bag of products, clothes, and zero damn answers?” My voice gets more shrill after each word. The click of the door is Arianna’s answer this time. “Mierda!” I yell into the now empty room, throwing the items against the wall.
My temper had always been quick to rise and sharp as a dagger. It takes everything in me to breathe through my frustration and not stalk after her, naked and bloody, demanding some sort of real answer.
To distract myself from acting irrationally, I take a look around the sparse white room. These people really seem to hate color. The floor tiles, walls, bedding, furniture and doors are all white. In my mind I’d already decided they were a cult, conjuring images of dark walls, men in cloaks, and burning candles… maybe even a sacrificial goat. Now I don’t know what to think, because I’ve seen hospitals with more color, and what surrounds me doesn’t match the picture I’d painted.
Arianna’s promise of answers is the only reason I gather up the things I’d thrown at the wall and walk into the adjoining bathroom. To my relief the bathroom has a lock and I click it, finally taking a deep breath and letting myself just exist.
As soon as my eyes land on the shower all my questions and thoughts of death fade away. It’s one of those amazing showers with jets built in along the walls and a long one overhead so it’s like falling rain. Without clothes to shed I drop my new belongings on a bench and quickly adjust the temperature until it’s skin-melting hot.
As the water washes away the stains of my death, I try to wrap my head around everything. I still can’t understand how I’m even standing here. I know I died, there are even bits and pieces of memory I’m still trying to cling to, but this whole situation is a dumpster fire of crazy.
Bringing myself out of my circling thoughts, I try to focus on cleaning the crime scene that is my body. The dried blood is stubborn and my annoyance flares up again, only to dissipate at the scent of vanilla. It always reminds me of baking with my… the memory is already gone again but as the spray washes over me and I start to feel stronger, I can’t find it in me to care.
Don’t let your defenses down, Luz. You still have no answers and something isn’t right here.
Finally clean, I step out of the shower and wrap a towel around my middle before drying my hair with another. I am thankfully blessed with hair that doesn’t require maintenance. It dries with soft waves all on its own, which is probably for the best since the bag of toiletries isn’t exactly top quality.
After the night, or however long I was out of it, I expected to look like a zombie. Instead I look even healthier than I did before I died. My lightly tanned skin is now flawless; I don’t even have bags under my eyes. My warm brown eyes are bright, framed by thick lashes. I have full lips and prominent cheekbones. I have never thought I was overly pretty, but now I have a sort of glow that makes me feel beautiful.
Yeah, something is definitely off here. Even with me. This isn’t normal.
Desperate for answers I throw on the clothes, that of course fit me like a damn glove. Everything is falling into place a bit too perfectly for my comfort.
From the combat boots to the tight leather jacket, I never would have worn any of this before, but it seems so fitting for my new life.After life?
The woman in the mirror looking back at me is something altogether new. In fact, I look like a badass, confident and ready to kick some cultist ass.
ChapterTwo
Luz
Arianna is sitting outside of my room clad in an all white suit, surrounded by even more white. The silver bench she’s on barely stands out against it.
“So, you guys like white, huh?” I say as I take in the brightness around me. My snarky side is on full blast now, Brad hated that. He was a people pleaser and my quick wit and humor unsettled him. But he loved me. Or at least I think he did. Again as I try to picture his handsome face and bright eyes, I suddenly can’t even remember the colors. Even his features are starting to slip away, like flower petals in the wind. Almost in reach, but I can’t quite grasp it.
“It’s bright and clean, which you’ll come to appreciate. Just wait.” She smirks and stands up, gesturing for me to follow her. The woman is a fucking model. Her blond hair is in a severe high ponytail, her green eyes framed in black glasses, and she is killing that suit in the best way. Her body is slender and athletic, and only a little intimidating.Okay, maybe a lot.
“Where are we going? What’s wrong with my memories? What is this place? Someone better fucking answer me!” I grit out at her as she leads me down the hall in silence, refusing to answer any of the questions I throw out. Instead she walks to a crossroads in the hallway and pushes the button for an elevator. It opens with a ding and a mechanical voice asks for our destination. I stubbornly stand in the hall, putting my hands on my hips while glaring in at her.
She rolls her eyes in exasperation when she notices I refused to follow her. “Hold doors,” she commands the elevator as she stares me down. There’s no humor in her gaze now but I couldn’t care less. This isn’t a fucking game.
“If you expect me to get in an elevator with you, when I know nothing about who you are or where I am, you are even crazier than I thought.” Crossing my arms in a mimic of her own stance, I fix her with a hard look, challenging her to give me something.
“You did die, and you awoke as a reaper. Think grim reaper, but far less ominous and creepy. You will have a purpose now. You can stay here and find out nothing, or follow me and I will explain it in more comfortable surroundings.” Her voice finally gets a hint of sympathy, which is more reassuring than I expect. Not seeing much choice, I sigh in defeat and step in the waiting elevator.
“Reaper? Like scythe and cloaks?” I question. She rolls her eyes but ignores me. No surprises there.
“Conference room A23,” she says loudly and the door closes. The elevator looks futuristic with its stark white, rounded walls. It is almost like riding down the inside of an egg. The thought has me biting back a snort of laughter, knowing I shouldn’t push the lady with answers any further now. I’m snarky, not stupid. I may need allies in this place, and I’m not going to make an enemy.At least not yet.
When the door slides open to yet another stark white hallway, she hurries off and doesn’t stop until she reaches a set of double doors with aplaque labeling the room number. She opens the doors and ushers me inside, having to wait for me to catch up since she practically sprinted away.
The moment I step inside Arianna closes the doors with a loud click before moving around the table and selecting a chair. I follow her lead and take a chair on the opposite side of the table, before staring at her expectantly. I’ve been beyond fucking patient with this woman and she didn’t want to see me get truly angry.
“Alright, first of all, as I said, you are a reaper.” She pauses and lets that sink in for a moment, but I just stare at her like she has lost her mind. “In fact, you are the first of your kind in over a hundred years.”
“I know I died,” I state, raising my eyebrows at her in defiance. This has to be some bullshit response to throw me off. Sure I’ve tossed around the idea of being in some kind of Hell but that was before I was back in my body. I mean, sure, I believe in an afterlife even more now.
But a reaper? No.