[Posted by Ted H]
Situations at my day job have kinda taken center stage, but I'll still try to churn out some updates here...I've got some backlog remaining for LG before I have to worry about writing new stuff, though I'd love to sit down one of these nights and power out something...
Help might be on the way in the near future though...stand by...
----------------------------------------------------
[Little Ghost - Orientation]“Kristina!” Clifford called from the back. The other ghosts occupied themselves in their conversation while Kristina approached Bill and Clifford. “Don’t freak out,” Clifford said “We’re all safe here.” Kristina nodded slowly, not sure what was happening. “This is Bill,” Clifford continued “He’s a Reaper.”
“In a room full of ghosts? Are you sure?” Kristina said.
“Yeah,” Bill said “Not all Reapers are the same. I’m a regular kind. The scary kind the others are talking about are known as Hunter Reapers, or Predator Reapers. It depends on where you are. Some regions have their own variation for the title.”
“I don’t understand. What’s the difference?”
“You’ll know a Hunter when you see one. Trust me.”
“This is a lot to take in.”
“We figured,” Clifford said “It’s time we give you a proper orientation.”
“Well, I got my new name figured out, apparently. Is that part of my orientation?”
“Meh, I guess,” Clifford said “But let’s start simple. You are a ghost, officially known as a runaway.”
“Oh God, there’s classifications of ghosts too?”
“Sure. Three types. Temps, Waiting and Runaways,” Clifford explained “Temps are ghosts just long enough to find out they're dead. Then a Reaper will send them off to their final reward.”
“Like a ray of light in the sky taking you to Heaven?” Kristina asked, a sickening sense of dread surrounding her.
“Yeah, for the goody goodies, they get their lights,” Clifford said, drawing snickers from the others up front “Or you get dragged to Hell. One way or another, Temps are just that, temporary ghosts. Their fates aren’t so much predetermined as they are just obvious when they die.”
“Who makes that call?” Kristina asked. Bill twirled his finger and pointed to the sky. “Oh, there are people. They let my kind know when and where they are when the time comes, within certain accuracy.” More snickering from behind.
“Right,” Clifford continued “So next are the Waiting. Not all the dead have a clear-cut case for Heaven or Hell. Upon death they may find themselves within a certain...moral gray area that needs to be looked into. In the meantime, they hang out here while the jury upstairs debate their case.”
“Are anyone here like that?” Kristina asked, causing more laughter before Bill finally shushed them. “No, and you don’t want to hang with them either. While their waiting for their final answer, they get Guardians to watch over and keep track of them. An Angel, and Demon respectively. You’re probably going to ask why they get those.”
Kristina stayed silent a moment before admitting “Maybe.”
“What you do after death still has impact on your immortal soul,” Bill said “Angels and Demons aren’t allowed to influence the living. When you’re dead, however, all bets are off. They each get one representative to try and tip the scales so to speak. It may prove to make the difference depending on how close one way or the other in the moral gray you fell on.”
“Souls are currency, and Angels and Demons are just misers trying to add to their totals,” Clifford added “Plus while the Guardians don’t care either way about us Runaways, they’re not above blowing the whistle on us to a Hunter, either.”
“Guardians always creep me out,” Cheryl said “And the morally gray fools should just be condemned to Hell right away like the rest of us.” Sammy and Ricky cheered their approval. “How long does it take to make a decision on them?” Kristina asked, fascinated by the court-like analogies. She briefly dated a law student, and they made court cases sound like the most boring thing in the world.
“Not that long,” Bill said “But just long enough to screw yourself over if you let your Guardian Demon in your ear.”
“Don’t be a Dante!” Jamal yelled out. “Who?” Kristina asked. “Alright, gather round!” Jamal announced with his hands outstretched wide. “We’re in the middle of-” Bill protested, but was cut off again by Jamal. “Shut up, Bill, this is better!”
“So,” Jamal began “Like most of you on the run, I’ve been around. Well once upon a time I was on my way north from Brooklyn and left Bronx for some spread-out upstate neighborhoods. The way I figured; big cities means lots of people. Lots of people means lots of ghosts. Lots of ghosts means lots of Reapers. I wasn’t feeling that, you know? So, along my way, I come across some boys who were laying low in an underground rave scene not unlike this illustrious party palace we are enjoying at this moment. One of them was this cat called Dante.
“Dante had just one Guardian. Him and this slick mother fucker Demon had already given the slip to the Angel and poor Dante was all emo about his dead girlfriend, who apparently was already in Hell. They actually had the idea to visit the bitch in Hell. I guess that’s good news that Hell allows conjugal visits, which is better than when I went to prison.
“I didn’t stick around long after that. Like my girl over here said, they Guardians are creepy as fuck and this one guy looked like bad news. So I’m gone, but it ain’t that long before I find my way back, and I brought a whole bunch of crazy stories to share and people there got some for me to hear. It was there someone had an update about ol’ Dante.
“When I left the first time, I figured that was it for him. Who goes to Hell, willing or not, and comes back? Dante did, that’s who. And what’s better, he was given the green light from above to head to Heaven. How fucking lucky can a cat like him be? Go to Hell, and still come back to get your lights. Shit, I was jealous as all hell when I heard that.
“But get this, I was right though about him. I distinctly remember when I saw him that he were a fucking retard. I was right, too. Fucker comes back from Hell, gets the green light to go to Heaven, then the cocky son of a bitch goes and kills his brother, shitting all over his ticket to Heaven. Got his ass reaped to Hell on the fucking spot!”
“How?” Kristina broke in “I though ghosts couldn’t interact?”
“The Guardians can,” Bill said “Direct them to do something, it reflects on your soul in judgement.” Kristina suddenly remembered the hospital and the old woman’s room. She remembered Charles grabbing hold of the cords keeping her alive and threatening to pull them out.
“Decide this woman’s fate...” echoed in her mind.
“None of us have to worry about being a Dante,” Clifford said, pulling Kristina out of her own thoughts “Seeing as how our fates are already sealed.”
“Not every Waiting you meet will have an accompanying set of Guardians,” Bill stated “Some are just serving their Purgatory sentence.”
“You weren't kidding with the court analogies,” Kristina kidded.
“That’s how most of those moral gray cases are decided; either you go to Hell or you get slapped with a set of years to remain on Earth before you’re allowed into Heaven.”
“Of course, you can still screw over your chances at Heaven while serving Purgatory,” Clifford added “Isn’t death fun?”
“Sounds like a blast,” Kristina rolled her eyes.
“And we’ve reached the best and most interesting kind of ghost. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you, the runaways!” Clifford announced to the rowdy cheers of Ricky, Jamal, Mike and Sammy. “Runaways...” Clifford shouted to be heard “I said Runaways are bad dudes!” More cheers, this time with a shout from Cheryl. Kristina looked to Bill who was rolling his eyes.
“Us Runaways were told to go to Hell, literally! But did we listen?”
“Hell no!” Sammy and Mike said in unison.
“Damn right!” Clifford fed into his crowd “When the Reapers and the Demons came to take us away, what did we say to that?”
“No, YOU go to Hell!” Mike shouted, kicking his legs over the edge of the bed he remained in.
“And when the Angels judge us for not deserving their Heaven, how do we respond?” Clifford asked, already knowing the answer.
“Keep your paradise and shove it up your ass!” Cheryl enthusiastically responded.
“And when the devil himself comes to claim us, we look him in his horns and say what?”
“Fuck you, niggaaaaaaaaaaaaa!” Jamal screamed as he jumped around, and pumped his fists in the air with both middle fingers extended. Soon Sammy and Cheryl sprung up and Mike jumped down as they joined Jamal and Ricky in bouncing about, flipping off the sky and shouting.
“Wow,” was all Kristina could muster as she took in the excitement that had erupted before her. Clifford looked pleased with himself as he smiled at her and let the others carry on a little before he tried to quiet them down. “Jeeze, you guys are so loud, you’ll wake the dead,” he said, eliciting some jeers, but eventually achieving the quiet he requested.
“Ok then,” he said “We are Runaways. We died, were sentenced to Hell, and either by chance or by cheat, we were able to evade our Reaper and strike off on our own existence in this world as fugitives. Hunted by Reapers with no hope of true safety or redemption. Doomed to run forever!”
“There isn’t an end to this life?” Kristina asked.
“Nope,” Sammy replied from behind “No bargaining, no begging, only running running running until a Reaper eventually gets you.”
“On top of my first escape, I’ve had a few other foot races with a Reaper,” Mike said “And each encounter was way scarier than anything I’ve ever experienced in life.
“You died at, what, ten? What scary shit ever happened to you?” Jamal asked.
“Sorry Jamal,” Mike responded “We can’t all live through drive-bys and prison like you!”
“Gentlemen!” Clifford called out “Not the time!”
“So, runners, or Runaways, or whatever,” Kristina started, trying the get the conversation back on track “They only run from Hell? Has anyone ever run from going to Heaven?” The room became silent and Kristina immediately regretted opening her mouth. “Why would you run from Heaven?” Sammy asked first. “Yeah,” Mike added “You get the golden ticket and you run?”
“I don’t know, stupid question!” Kristina defended herself. “Hey, relax,” Clifford said “She’s trying to grasp all this. She’s been dead all of a few hours, give her a break.” He then turned to Bill. “I’ve never heard of any such Runaways, but...Bill? What do you think?”
“I’ve shown tons of people their lights,” Bill said “Most overjoyed, many speechless, and even some genuinely surprised that they earned it...But I’ve never had someone reject Heaven. I don’t even think there’s a protocol for it. But it is possible, I guess, otherwise there’d be no need for my kind of Reapers.”
“Yeah,” Bill said “Not all Reapers are the same. I’m a regular kind. The scary kind the others are talking about are known as Hunter Reapers, or Predator Reapers. It depends on where you are. Some regions have their own variation for the title.”
“I don’t understand. What’s the difference?”
“You’ll know a Hunter when you see one. Trust me.”
“This is a lot to take in.”
“We figured,” Clifford said “It’s time we give you a proper orientation.”
“Well, I got my new name figured out, apparently. Is that part of my orientation?”
“Meh, I guess,” Clifford said “But let’s start simple. You are a ghost, officially known as a runaway.”
“Oh God, there’s classifications of ghosts too?”
“Sure. Three types. Temps, Waiting and Runaways,” Clifford explained “Temps are ghosts just long enough to find out they're dead. Then a Reaper will send them off to their final reward.”
“Like a ray of light in the sky taking you to Heaven?” Kristina asked, a sickening sense of dread surrounding her.
“Yeah, for the goody goodies, they get their lights,” Clifford said, drawing snickers from the others up front “Or you get dragged to Hell. One way or another, Temps are just that, temporary ghosts. Their fates aren’t so much predetermined as they are just obvious when they die.”
“Who makes that call?” Kristina asked. Bill twirled his finger and pointed to the sky. “Oh, there are people. They let my kind know when and where they are when the time comes, within certain accuracy.” More snickering from behind.
“Right,” Clifford continued “So next are the Waiting. Not all the dead have a clear-cut case for Heaven or Hell. Upon death they may find themselves within a certain...moral gray area that needs to be looked into. In the meantime, they hang out here while the jury upstairs debate their case.”
“Are anyone here like that?” Kristina asked, causing more laughter before Bill finally shushed them. “No, and you don’t want to hang with them either. While their waiting for their final answer, they get Guardians to watch over and keep track of them. An Angel, and Demon respectively. You’re probably going to ask why they get those.”
Kristina stayed silent a moment before admitting “Maybe.”
“What you do after death still has impact on your immortal soul,” Bill said “Angels and Demons aren’t allowed to influence the living. When you’re dead, however, all bets are off. They each get one representative to try and tip the scales so to speak. It may prove to make the difference depending on how close one way or the other in the moral gray you fell on.”
“Souls are currency, and Angels and Demons are just misers trying to add to their totals,” Clifford added “Plus while the Guardians don’t care either way about us Runaways, they’re not above blowing the whistle on us to a Hunter, either.”
“Guardians always creep me out,” Cheryl said “And the morally gray fools should just be condemned to Hell right away like the rest of us.” Sammy and Ricky cheered their approval. “How long does it take to make a decision on them?” Kristina asked, fascinated by the court-like analogies. She briefly dated a law student, and they made court cases sound like the most boring thing in the world.
“Not that long,” Bill said “But just long enough to screw yourself over if you let your Guardian Demon in your ear.”
“Don’t be a Dante!” Jamal yelled out. “Who?” Kristina asked. “Alright, gather round!” Jamal announced with his hands outstretched wide. “We’re in the middle of-” Bill protested, but was cut off again by Jamal. “Shut up, Bill, this is better!”
“So,” Jamal began “Like most of you on the run, I’ve been around. Well once upon a time I was on my way north from Brooklyn and left Bronx for some spread-out upstate neighborhoods. The way I figured; big cities means lots of people. Lots of people means lots of ghosts. Lots of ghosts means lots of Reapers. I wasn’t feeling that, you know? So, along my way, I come across some boys who were laying low in an underground rave scene not unlike this illustrious party palace we are enjoying at this moment. One of them was this cat called Dante.
“Dante had just one Guardian. Him and this slick mother fucker Demon had already given the slip to the Angel and poor Dante was all emo about his dead girlfriend, who apparently was already in Hell. They actually had the idea to visit the bitch in Hell. I guess that’s good news that Hell allows conjugal visits, which is better than when I went to prison.
“I didn’t stick around long after that. Like my girl over here said, they Guardians are creepy as fuck and this one guy looked like bad news. So I’m gone, but it ain’t that long before I find my way back, and I brought a whole bunch of crazy stories to share and people there got some for me to hear. It was there someone had an update about ol’ Dante.
“When I left the first time, I figured that was it for him. Who goes to Hell, willing or not, and comes back? Dante did, that’s who. And what’s better, he was given the green light from above to head to Heaven. How fucking lucky can a cat like him be? Go to Hell, and still come back to get your lights. Shit, I was jealous as all hell when I heard that.
“But get this, I was right though about him. I distinctly remember when I saw him that he were a fucking retard. I was right, too. Fucker comes back from Hell, gets the green light to go to Heaven, then the cocky son of a bitch goes and kills his brother, shitting all over his ticket to Heaven. Got his ass reaped to Hell on the fucking spot!”
“How?” Kristina broke in “I though ghosts couldn’t interact?”
“The Guardians can,” Bill said “Direct them to do something, it reflects on your soul in judgement.” Kristina suddenly remembered the hospital and the old woman’s room. She remembered Charles grabbing hold of the cords keeping her alive and threatening to pull them out.
“Decide this woman’s fate...” echoed in her mind.
“None of us have to worry about being a Dante,” Clifford said, pulling Kristina out of her own thoughts “Seeing as how our fates are already sealed.”
“Not every Waiting you meet will have an accompanying set of Guardians,” Bill stated “Some are just serving their Purgatory sentence.”
“You weren't kidding with the court analogies,” Kristina kidded.
“That’s how most of those moral gray cases are decided; either you go to Hell or you get slapped with a set of years to remain on Earth before you’re allowed into Heaven.”
“Of course, you can still screw over your chances at Heaven while serving Purgatory,” Clifford added “Isn’t death fun?”
“Sounds like a blast,” Kristina rolled her eyes.
“And we’ve reached the best and most interesting kind of ghost. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you, the runaways!” Clifford announced to the rowdy cheers of Ricky, Jamal, Mike and Sammy. “Runaways...” Clifford shouted to be heard “I said Runaways are bad dudes!” More cheers, this time with a shout from Cheryl. Kristina looked to Bill who was rolling his eyes.
“Us Runaways were told to go to Hell, literally! But did we listen?”
“Hell no!” Sammy and Mike said in unison.
“Damn right!” Clifford fed into his crowd “When the Reapers and the Demons came to take us away, what did we say to that?”
“No, YOU go to Hell!” Mike shouted, kicking his legs over the edge of the bed he remained in.
“And when the Angels judge us for not deserving their Heaven, how do we respond?” Clifford asked, already knowing the answer.
“Keep your paradise and shove it up your ass!” Cheryl enthusiastically responded.
“And when the devil himself comes to claim us, we look him in his horns and say what?”
“Fuck you, niggaaaaaaaaaaaaa!” Jamal screamed as he jumped around, and pumped his fists in the air with both middle fingers extended. Soon Sammy and Cheryl sprung up and Mike jumped down as they joined Jamal and Ricky in bouncing about, flipping off the sky and shouting.
“Wow,” was all Kristina could muster as she took in the excitement that had erupted before her. Clifford looked pleased with himself as he smiled at her and let the others carry on a little before he tried to quiet them down. “Jeeze, you guys are so loud, you’ll wake the dead,” he said, eliciting some jeers, but eventually achieving the quiet he requested.
“Ok then,” he said “We are Runaways. We died, were sentenced to Hell, and either by chance or by cheat, we were able to evade our Reaper and strike off on our own existence in this world as fugitives. Hunted by Reapers with no hope of true safety or redemption. Doomed to run forever!”
“There isn’t an end to this life?” Kristina asked.
“Nope,” Sammy replied from behind “No bargaining, no begging, only running running running until a Reaper eventually gets you.”
“On top of my first escape, I’ve had a few other foot races with a Reaper,” Mike said “And each encounter was way scarier than anything I’ve ever experienced in life.
“You died at, what, ten? What scary shit ever happened to you?” Jamal asked.
“Sorry Jamal,” Mike responded “We can’t all live through drive-bys and prison like you!”
“Gentlemen!” Clifford called out “Not the time!”
“So, runners, or Runaways, or whatever,” Kristina started, trying the get the conversation back on track “They only run from Hell? Has anyone ever run from going to Heaven?” The room became silent and Kristina immediately regretted opening her mouth. “Why would you run from Heaven?” Sammy asked first. “Yeah,” Mike added “You get the golden ticket and you run?”
“I don’t know, stupid question!” Kristina defended herself. “Hey, relax,” Clifford said “She’s trying to grasp all this. She’s been dead all of a few hours, give her a break.” He then turned to Bill. “I’ve never heard of any such Runaways, but...Bill? What do you think?”
“I’ve shown tons of people their lights,” Bill said “Most overjoyed, many speechless, and even some genuinely surprised that they earned it...But I’ve never had someone reject Heaven. I don’t even think there’s a protocol for it. But it is possible, I guess, otherwise there’d be no need for my kind of Reapers.”
No comments:
Post a Comment