Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Death's Promise [Book 1 of 3] ❯ Slipping ( Chapter 5 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

A/N:
- "Kyrie eleison" means "Lord have mercy."


Chapter 5: Slipping

Most people believe that Hell is where souls are punished in ironic ways for their sins. This is not true. Torture isn't ironic at all in Hell, it's simply, for lack of a better word, evil. In Hell, souls are punished in whatever manner will hurt them the most, regardless of the degree of their sins. In fact, Hell is much like a democracy: everyone is treated equally, united as one under Satan. It is in Purgatory, however, where the true measurements of the different sins are taken. The difference between Hell and Purgatory is simple: mindless torture for all Eternity versus structured torture for a short time.

Purgatory, a belief predominantly Roman Catholic, is a final chance to repent and, through suffering, make peace with God. Descriptions of the physical place are vague, at best, simply because the physical form is not the center of attention. No one cares where the punishment takes place, but rather, everyone is focused on two things: the punishment to endure and the reward to gain. The reward is always stated in the same terms no matter who states it. If one endures Purgatory, he receives the forgiveness of God and a second chance at Heaven. Who could pass up such an offer? And so, the souls willingly accept the punishment they receive. What punishment is this? No mere mortal can say for sure. There are tales of being broken on a wheel, of being consumed by rats and worms, of being boiled in oil, or any number of similar gruesome things. However, these are obviously punishments devised by humans and thus, are most likely not true. Souls are physically numb. Such torture would be nothing to them. Then what, one might ask, could possibly be used as torture on a soul incapable of feeling pain? The answer was something Heero was not looking forward to learning.

Heero wasn't Roman Catholic. He wasn't even Catholic. A few hours ago, he wasn't even sure if there was a God. So how the hell did he end up standing outside the gate of something he didn't believe in?! It didn't make sense. He had heard of Purgatory, yes, and now here it stood. He knew what he was in for: the pain, the suffering he would be forced to endure, but he wasn't scared; however, he wasn't relieved either. In fact, he wasn't anything. He should feel SOMETHING about his own impending doom, shouldn't he? Why was he suddenly so... dead?

Perhaps that question was its own answer.

Heero stood, pensively contemplating these ideas as, one by one, his fellow condemned souls made their way through the glistening liquid gate. Before long, the line before him was gone, all of the souls were inside, and he was all that was left: he, the angel, the shade, and Death. Heero turned hesitantly toward the black-clad deity, frowning slightly, but otherwise managing to control his expression. "You're not coming." He knew the answer, thus the question became more of a melancholy statement. Of course Duo wasn't coming into Purgatory, why would he? Why did he even ask? Did he really even care? Heero couldn't even discern his own feels, his own motivations anymore. Everything was surreal. What mattered now that he was dead?

Duo laughed dryly. "Going in? No, no, no. Not a chance." He scoffed, crossing his arms. "God says I'm not allowed in anymore. He thinks I'll screw with his little game, cheat somehow." Duo sighed extravagantly. " I swear! You help one, two, twenty-two thousand, or so souls redeem themselves, ya know, just gently nudging them in the right direction, and suddenly you're called a cheater! I was only talking them through it! It wasn't like I was using my power or anything!" He winked, nudging Heero, then grew somber as he realized Heero didn't share his cheer. Duo's smile faded to a ghost of the grin it once was. "It'll be okay. Despite popular belief, it's really not so bad. Just do what they tell you, say what they want you to say, don't have a mental breakdown, and you'll make it out the other side clean, with my help or without it."

The portal flickered slightly, a wave of light fading from top to bottom. As the light passed downward, Heero got a glimpse of what he was about to walk into. Instinctively, he lifted his chin and backed away a few steps. He did NOT like what he saw. Glancing at Duo, Heero's eyes searched Duo for something, not even sure of what they was seeking.

Smiling brightly, Duo shrugged as if it were nothing. "Sorry, can't help you get out of this one. You're on your own, pal."

Yeah, on his own. Alone. Always alone. He deserved it, though. He deserved whatever he got. Strengthening his resolve, Heero mentally prepared himself for whatever it was he was walking into. It was nothing he couldn't handle, nothing he hadn't dealt with before. He exhaled once sharply, standing as tall as he could. "Now or never. Strong, Yuy. You're a soldier. You're Heero Yuy." The word, "failure" flitted over him, tagging along with his name, but Heero quickly dismissed it for his own sake. He glanced briefly over Duo, Quatre, and Trowa, before focusing his eyes on the glistening puddle of a gate. Slowly, Heero walked forward, unable to suppress a shiver as he passed under the age-old marble sign.

"Good luck." Duo watched him go, muttering to himself even after he knew Heero could no longer hear him. "It's gonna be okay, Heero. Don't worry. You belong in Heaven. This is your chance to get back. Dirty souls go in, clean ones come out. You're strong. There's nothing to worry about." Duo only halfheartedly believed his own muttered reassurances. It was true, the occasional damned soul made it through Purgatory and ended up clean, but that soul was one for every hundred-thousand, occasionally not even then. Even Wufei hadn't made it out clean, and Duo was positive he would... But Heero could do it. Heero had... something, something Duo couldn't put his finger on, that made him stand out from the rest. Heero was special somehow; he had to be. Why else would Duo be so worried about him?

"Duo-sama?"

Duo turned to smile reassuringly at Trowa. "Hm?"

The shade opened his mouth to voice his concerns that Duo was muttering to himself, but stopped. Instead, he glanced off into a specific direction of the white nothingness. "I'm going to start back to Hephess." He turned, meeting Duo's eyes, "Unless, of course, you need me...?"

The deity thought this over for a minute, his eyes nervous looking. Finally he responded. "Go ahead, it's fine. I can deal with them myself, really. Small group. You get home and check on the other kids. Make sure everything's going okay. I worry, you know? Things are tense right now, and they're only going to get worse..." He looked back at the gate, staring hopelessly at it.

Trowa took a step closer and whispered, "Are you sure you won't tell me?"

Duo grinned disarmingly. "You know me, Trowa. I like to put everything off to the last minute. I said I'll tell you when I get home, and I'll tell you when I get home, got it?"

Nodding, Trowa muttered, "Yes, Duo-sama." He glanced over at Quatre, then watched the white ground as he began walking off toward "home."

Quatre watched him go only a few steps before flitting off after him, hovering by his side. "Trowa?" The shade glanced over, raising an eyebrow. "What--" Quatre looked down at his hands, cleaning his already-clean fingernails. "What is Hephess like?"

Still walking, Trowa took a minute before answering. When he did speak, it was soft and reserved. "Colorless. Quiet. Much smaller than any other realm. It-- There is a... certain feel to it I cannot grasp. Words do not suit it." He turned his head to find the angel staring at him. "Like all domains, it is a place one must experience."

Looking at his hands again, Quatre smiled softly. "I'd like to visit it, some day..." He glanced up, waiting for an answer to the unasked question.

Expressionless, Trowa replied softly. "I'd like the company." Quatre smiled outright at that, but Trowa added, "You may want to ask Duo-sama, though. He's quite protective of it."

***

Duo was staring into the mirror of Purgatory's gate, contemplating himself. The gate's mirror is unique in that it amplifies one's reflection. While an angel may look simply like a flashlight's dull yellow beam in a normal reflective surface, in Purgatory's gate, an angel looks like the sun. In most mirrors, Duo's reflection was dark enough that he could stand looking at it. In Purgatory, however, it was much worse, magnified to its most gruesome, each minute detail hauntingly clear.

The thing in the mirror did not reflect a fifteen year old boy with smiling violet eyes and rich chocolate hair. In fact, the reflection looked nothing like the boy before the mirror. At first glance, it appeared to be a dark stain, a smatter of tar carelessly tossed against the shining surface. Looking closer, however, one could see the image of a face mixed into the black, the face of something inhuman, inanimate. There were eyes like a cat's, slit, glowing violet, dripping with the glowing purple goo. Its nose was caved in at the bridge, resembling the tight indentation of the skull beneath it. The teeth, as the image smiled, were fanged, but dulled from time, pristine white and glistening like wet porcelain. The whole face was a deathly shade of pale white, almost indigo, including the long stands of hair pulled behind its head. All pale... save the lips. The thin lips were a deep shade of blue, and where there were thin cracks in them, the blue looked almost black. The rest of the figure was cloaked in black, save for the faint shimmer of a silver blade at the end of a long ebony pole.

Duo stared at it in the way one is drawn to stare at a car accident: morbid fascination. No matter how many times he saw that distorted reflection, he never grew accustomed to it. He grinned sardonically, somehow making the mangled reflection seem twice as disfigured. "I am one gorgeous god."

"Death-sama?" He turned, and the head of the monstrosity he reflected turned with him. Avoiding eye-contact with the mass in the mirror, Quatre continued, "I-- I was wondering if I might... if I could go see Hephess. With Trowa." Quickly, he bowed his head and began rambling subserviently. "If it's all right with you, of course, Death-sama, since I've never seen it before, and I'd like to know if what I've heard is really true. If it's not all right with you, Death-sama, then, of course, it's no problem, and I'll gladly sta--"

"Quatre."

The angel looked up, smiling innocently. "Yes?"

Duo shrugged. "It's fine, go have fun. Just don't go wandering off anywhere without a shade guiding you. I don't need an angel walking aimlessly around Hephess 'cause he got lost, you know what I mean? I get enough of that with the souls."

Smiling brightly, Quatre nodded. "Yes, Death-sama." He called over one shoulder, already walking off in the direction Trowa had taken. "Thank you!"

"Oh! Quatre!" The angel paused mid-step, turning. "One more thing..." Duo walked up until he was within inches of the angel, their eyes locking. Still smiling, he leaned forward until their noses were almost touching, then spoke quietly, "If you do ANYthing to hurt ANY of my children, and I mean so much as hurt one hair on ANY of their heads, I promise you WILL be toast. And not the good toast, either. I mean the non-existing toast." He paused for emphasis, the threat of nonexistence hanging over them, then he asked, "You got me?" Eyes wide, Quatre nodded silently. Duo stepped back, slapping Quatre lightly on the back. "Great! Glad we're seeing eye-to-eye. Now you go have fun, all right?" Quatre nodded again dumbly, eyes still wide. He took a few steps backwards, then turned and jogged the rest of the way after Trowa.

Duo turned, sighing, then spoke to his reflection. "I wasn't too hard on him, was I?" He laughed. "Why do you always think the worst of people?" He waited, as if listening, before replying, "Oh, shut up, they are not. Besides, Quatre's just a kid. I don't think he'll pull anything. Angels aren't like that." He paused, once again listening to his silent reflection before waving a hand absently. "Eh, what do you know, smart-ass? What? Who cares if you're older! I know just as much as you do. I AM you." After a minute of silence, he sighed. "Guess I better go wait on the other side for Heero and the rest to get out. Can't have them waiting for me, now, can we?" He nodded. "Glad you agree." He blew the reflection a kiss, then his feet began melting into a shining purple light. Soon the rest of his physical form followed from his feet up to his neck, ending with his grinning pink lips. His horse, standing faithfully to the side, also followed in dissolving into nothing more than violet light, and the two expanses melded together into one blob. The large puddle of purple mist then slithered its way through the thick air of Limbo at an amazingly fast speed, taking the long way around the area of Limbo dubbed "Purgatory."

***

As Heero stepped through the gate, he became immediately dizzy. As in Limbo, there appeared to be no ground and no sky, but here, the white nothingness had been replaced with mixing mists of red, white and pink. The various colors were all around, swirling together and circling those beings within. Heero was quickly ushered into the newly formed line of souls by another "judge." He stood there, glancing around at the hypnotizing swirls of color and the group of tall, gaunt, winged men behind the line he was in. The judges all looked nearly identical with only a few minor differences in their facial features. Only one stood out. The one man was dressed in an inverse robe from the others: red with a thin white trim. The judge came before the line of souls and glared at them, then spoke in a thin harsh tone. "You are here to receive divine retribution through exploitation of sins committed in life. The process is time-consuming, and thus we shall begin immediately so as not to keep Death-sama waiting. In order to be heard by Our Lord in Heaven, you must speak in Latin, for it is the heart of all languages, and its meaning is pure despite time's grasp. What you say from this point on will be heard by Our Heavenly Father, but only what is said in Latin will be acknowledged. Do. You. Understand, Sinners?"

The majority of souls, including Heero, nodded silently, one verbalizing his affirmation in Latin, as told.

"Good. I assume most of you do not speak Latin, which is a pity. Here is a quick lesson for the ignorant among you. Confiteor quia peccavi nimis. Non confundar in aeternum. Gere curam mei funis. Repeat. Confiteor quia peccavi nimis."

Hesitantly, the souls repeated, their voices blending into one dead tone. "Confiteor quia peccavi nimis."

"Non confundar in aeternum."

They repeated obediently.

"Gere curam mei funis."

And again, their voices sounded in a monotonous unison.

The judge muttered, "Close enough," then continued with his obviously well-practiced speech in an apathetic tone. "Their translation is akin to, 'I confess that I have sinned. Let me not be damned for eternity. Help me in my final hour.' You are to repeat these words when questioned. You are to mean them. If you do not mean the words, you are not speak them. Do you understand, Sinners?"

They nodded once more in semi-unison.

"Good. The decision of your fate is your own doing and will be made based on your responses. You will each be judged individually. You may not leave until given permission. Do not stray from your assigned judge; it is entirely possible to become lost in Purgatory, and I have been told this is not a pleasant experience." He looked over the souls' heads and nodded once sharply. His fellow judges then stepped forward, each placing one thin hand on the right shoulder of each soul. Heero swiveled his head at the touch, glaring at the offending hand suspiciously. The judge who had just been speaking nodded again, and the souls were escorted to different sections of Purgatory by a firm push from the hands on their shoulders.

Heero stared at the door they were now facing, eyeing the silver doorknob as if it would bite him. He was alone with the judge now, and while this didn't unnerve him, it didn't make him leap with joy, either. The judge, hand still clasped tightly on Heero's shoulder, spoke sternly, "Open it." Hand steady, Heero reached out and grabbed the knob, feeling the cool metal beneath his touch, and pulled it.

***

Quatre and Trowa had been walking together for some time now on the relatively short trip to Hephess. They spoke in quiet tones, as if to raise their voices would disturb the still whiteness around them. Words were exchanged, and with them, lives came into a clearer view as they formed a bond that only the dead could: the camaraderie that comes with existing for so long, for seeing so much, for knowing so great. They shared the crucial belief that they had nothing to lose, and with that, they had nothing to hide.

They discussed whatever came to their minds, from their current occupations, to their lives, to their deaths. In fact, they talked together so easily that the trip to Hephess seemed to fly by, and before long, they were approaching the gate.

Quatre laughed, his eyes glowing with curious enjoyment. "She actually said that to you?"

Trowa nodded, fighting back a smirk.

Quatre shook his head, still smiling, "I could never have to nerve to say something like that to Death, nor one of his children, for that matter."

"Yes, we can be intimidating, especially to the living."

"I don't think you're intimidating."

Trowa looked over at Quatre, gauging the angel's earnest expression. "I suppose you don't."

"Death-sama, on the other hand..." Quatre looked away, remembering his previous conversation with the god. "I don't think intimidating is the word."

Trowa shook his head. "He is not someone to be afraid of."

Raising his eyebrows, Quatre quipped, "Are you kidding?"

"You just have to get to know him." Trowa glanced over his shoulder in the direction of Purgatory. "He has his own problems to deal with. Something has been getting to him lately, and I believe I know what it is."

"What is it?"

He shook his head. "I would only be guessing. Besides, until Duo-sama tells me, it's not my business." Before Quatre could respond, Trowa nodded forward, gesturing to a looming expanse of darkness in the distance. "We're almost there."

***

When he had opened the door, a bright light had flashed, temporarily blinding him. After his eyes adjusted, Heero looked around. They were in a room now, the same dull pink and red swirls decorating the walls. The door was there, but reversed, a testimony that they had, indeed, gone through it. There was a small wooden chair sitting in the room, but otherwise, it was completely empty.

"Heero Yuy," He looked up as the tall judge spoke to find a rolled up paper in one of the mans' bony hands. "The following is a list of each of your vices, from the least foul to the vilest. While individually, many are not nearly so costly as to set you on your current path, the combination has damned you. If you admit to them all, then, and only then, may you begin to be forgiven. Do you understand, Sinner?" Heero nodded, but inside he was growling. This "sinner" business was getting more than a little annoying. These judges were so aloof that, if he had been alive and still capable of feeling, it would have been infuriating. The judge pulled the long scroll downward, opening it. He read the list solemnly with spite, as if the words fouled his mouth by simply speaking them. "First, the secondary sins.

"Using Our Lord's title as an obscenity." He waited for Heero's response.

"Confiteor."

"Loss of faith."

"Confiteor."

"Now, the deadly sins. Pride."

Biting back any arguments, Heero nodded. "Confiteor."

"Envy."

"When did--" The argument died on his lips. Why bother fighting? He'd almost surely lose anyway. Sighing, Heero muttered, "Confiteor."

"Finally, and most importantly, the commandments. Failure to remember the Holy Sabbath day."

This time, Heero couldn't hold the argument back as the muttered reply fell from his lips, "Go to church. When? My whole life was spent behind a gun, locked in training rooms."

"Do not lie, Sinner; you were not a child forever. Do not pass the guilt onto your elders or I shall add this to your list of secondary sins."

The soul sighed softly. "Even so, many Sundays were spent on the battlefield. How could I honor them while fighting a war? Are you saying that I should've dropped my weapons and sat down in a church for a few hours while my enemy was shooting at me? Ridiculous."

"Others did." Heero muttered a bit more about the stupidity of doing such a thing until the judge added, "If I recall correctly, and I do, you were the enemy firing at them."

Heero paused, something in his memory flashing quickly, telling him to be very afraid for his immortal soul. "What?"

The judge watched him calmly and asked, "Do you confess, Sinner?"

The memory flashed again, but Heero pushed it down, staring at the floor, not wanting to remember what he'd done; was that a memory or a dream? Had it really happened? Had he... it didn't matter. Nothing mattered now. "Confiteor."

"Your final and most grievous sin, unholy child, is murder of innocents without just cause. This is a breach of the most powerful of the commandments: thou shalt not kill."

Heero paused for a full minute, a pensive expression on his face. Then he looked up and questioned, "Just cause? Didn't I have just cause?"

"No, you did NOT, Breaker of Commandments, Vilest of Sinners."

He nearly rolled eyes at the names but held himself back. "Just what is your definition of 'just cause' ?"

The judge regarded him as if Heero were a complete idiot, and the answer to his question were blatantly obvious. "There is NEVER just cause for murder, save when His Holiness deems it so."

Heero sighed, glaring at the floor. Just because God didn't "speak" to him, his cause wasn't "just." Life wasn't fair, he knew that, but who knew death would be equally unjust? "Confiteor." He spat the word out.

"What was that, Sinner?" The judge asked, narrowing his pink eyes as if he could look straight through Heero and see the soul's motives. If Heero didn't mean it, the confession was nothing.

His voice was hard and he met the judge glare-for-glare. His eyes seemed to shout, "You heard me." Instead, Heero spoke the one word asked of him, pronouncing the syllables slowly like one speaking to a stubborn child. "Con-fee-tay-or."

Leaning back to his full height, the judge exhaled sharply, the scroll disappearing from his grasp. "Kyrie eleison, Heero Yuy. God has mercifully forgiven you and is allowing you to pay your sins now, if you have the strength he provides to the Righteous alone. You will atone for your sins individually, beginning with the most despicable, then the next, and so on until you have paid for each. Then you shall be judged and sentenced accordingly. Do you understand, Sinner?"

"I do."

The judge gestured to the chair with a slim, graceful hand. "Have a seat, then."