Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ A Touch of Death ❯ Chapter 1

WARNINGS AND DISCLAIMERS: These are all fictional characters and any similarities to anyone living or dead is completely incidental. And anyway, I'm not making any money off of this.

 

This is my NanoWriMo piece, which I managed to turn out in half the time allotted. If you don't know what Nano is, check out www.nanowrimo.org for information and a chance at a really good time.

 

Death shouldn't be like this. It was supposed to have some kind of meaning, some sort of purpose. That's what everyone wanted anyway, some point for their death. Could she really be blamed for feeling the same way? A long sigh escaped Kathryn and she absently took a deep breath of the burning rubber that filled the air. No, this definitely seemed pointless.

Her corpse was lying on the ground, the car that had hit her now smashed into a barrier on the other side of the street, the wheels feebly spinning as firefighters fought to get the driver's door open. Her lips pursed a little; they'd barely given her a second glance. She couldn't really blame them. She looked back down at the body in the road. No one was going to walk away looking like that.

Her fingers ran up her neck, pausing for a moment as if she expected to feel the spatter of blood that was curled around the throat on the ground. There was nothing, not even a pulse. Wonderful. Disconnection fanned through her and she absently turned back to the thing on the street. The concrete was glossy with her blood and one hand was awkwardly curled up against her chest. Twenty-seven years old and dead in a gutter. She grunted a little and tried to tilt her head in a reflection of the figure on the ground. It wouldn't go.

“Probably a broken neck,” she muttered.

She knelt down next to her body and watched a faint breeze fan up through tangled brown curls. If a fly landed on her now, she'd probably scream. Only one eye was open, and that was really the most disturbing part of the whole thing. One glassy brown eye staring up at her, cock-eyed glasses still caught on one ear and keeping everything perfectly in focus. Was some part of her still seeing? Could she see…

Her eyes slid down now to look over herself. She still looked the same, and when she curled her hands into experimental fists, they felt real enough. It was weird. She could remember standing on the curb, waiting for the light to change, and suddenly she was in the road. There had been time to blink in confusion, and then the squeal of tires and horns and someone yelling. And then there was the gunshot crack of a radiator exploding in on itself. Weird that she could remember that. No pain though, maybe that was something to be grateful for.

She'd sat up about six feet away from her body. Maybe her whatever she was got thrown from the corpse really hard. She hadn't known right away, it had been more of a gradual realization. If anything, she didn't think she'd fully gotten it even now. She'd done all the things that ghosts did in the movies, crying to the cops and firemen who showed up on scene, grabbing at their jackets and staring in terrified mystification when her hands shot through them. She'd screamed and staggered away and wildly looked around for some explanation of what was happening. There hadn't been any. One hand passed up over her throat. She was raw from screaming and crying, her voice sounded hoarse at least, but there was no sensation behind it. Kathryn's eyes flashed over the people milling around the accident scene. No one was looking at her, despite the thrashing fit she'd pitched, and even now she couldn't seem to catch anyone's attention. So no one had been able to explain to her just what was happening. No one could tell her why her hands passed through everything she tried to touch and no one responded to anything she did. She'd been forced to draw her own conclusions, but the evidence was pretty damned clear. She was dead, no arguing with the corpse cooling on the ground.

One foot prodded cautiously at her body, but it was like smoke passing against her skin; nothing. Kathryn stepped back quickly after that and retreated behind the yellow caution tape that the police officers were now stringing across everything. There was some relief in following the policeman's orders and maintaining a safe distance away from the scene. It was like any other accident that happened a hundred times a day. She peered up over the shoulder of a man standing in front of her. No, this definitely wasn't like any other accident she'd ever seen. Why hadn't they put a sheet over her yet? Oh god, that guy in the crowd was taking pictures.

She winced and wrapped both arms around herself. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Shouldn't there be something more? She'd never been overly religious, but something meaningful should happen now. She'd died after all.

“I should be upset about this,” she murmured.

“Why?”

Kathryn's spine stiffened suddenly, her head whipping to the right and the man now casually leaning next to her.

“You think you're the only person who died today?” he asked conversationally.

Kathryn blinked and he gave her a wide grin, dark sunglasses carefully hiding his eyes as he shrugged.

“Don't worry about it,” he said. “Come on, let's get going.”

“You…can see me?”

“Why does everyone always say that?” he said with exasperation. “I wouldn't be talking to you if I couldn't. Come on.”

“Who are you?”

“Look, we're running out of time here.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” she snapped as she reached for him.

Her hand slammed through his collar and she jerked it back as if burned. Kathryn stared down at it, flexing and opening it as she tried to feel something in it. The numbness in her head seemed to have stretched out into the rest of her body.

“I'm never going to get used to this,” she murmured.

“It's nothing to worry about,” the man said soothingly, his words carefully vague enough that it seemed there was no point in her worrying at all. “I just think you might want to leave now.”

He laughed and gestured to the ambulance that was backing slowly down the street, a loud beep signaling its approach to her mangled body.

“You really want to hang around and see what they do with that?” he asked lowly, the smile still in place, but now absolutely empty.

The ambulance doors slammed open and Kathryn swallowed as a man in a starched white uniform clamored out and knelt down next to her. They'd take her to the hospital now and then down all those stairs to a specially cooled room. She could probably watch the entire time; it didn't seem like anyone was in much of a hurry for anything else to happen to her. Did they do autopsies when they knew how someone died? She tried to remember all the crime shows she'd watched, but for some reason her ears were buzzing out her thoughts with imaginings of bone saws and bored looking doctors.

“No, I guess not,” she said absently.

“Great,” he said as he clapped his hands together. “Let's get out of here. The crowds are only going to get worse when they load you up.”

She gave him a disgusted look and he grinned in answer. He turned on his heel, absently pushing through the crowd, a few giving him annoyed looks and then quickly jostling forward to get a better look.

“Hey,” Kathryn blurted suddenly. “You're alive!”

He chuckled and glanced back over his shoulder.

“Can't put one over you, can I?”

She scowled and followed him, her `body' passing through anything that stepped in her path. It didn't feel like anything at all, and something about that was more than a little disturbing. Kathryn rubbed at her arms when they finally stepped clear of the rest of the gawkers and glanced once over her shoulder as the ambulance blared its siren and flashed its lights.

“A little show for the crowd,” the man next to her said.

She watched the bright red and white truck pull away and slumped a little.

“Did I just die?” she asked dully.

The man next to her shifted a little and ran a hand back through short blond hair.

“What else could have happened?” he asked uncomfortably.

Kathryn wrenched her eyes away from the scene and locked them on the man next to her.

“And who are you?” she snapped. “What's going on? Where's the…the tunnel of light or the relatives waiting for me or whatever the hell is supposed to happen!”

“Hey, hey,” he said, holding both hands out soothingly. “Calm down. Take it easy.”

“Easy?” she hissed. “That's how I'm supposed to be taking this? Easy? I just died!”

“And I told you, you're not the first,” he said. “God, why do people always make such a big deal of this?”

Kathryn's jaw dropped.

“What?”

He grinned sheepishly and shrugged.

“Uh, sorry,” he said. “I guess it doesn't happen to you everyday.”

“No,” she gritted out. “It doesn't.”

He sighed and scratched at the back of his head.

“Okay, let's try this again.”

He held out one hand to her and smiled.

“I'm Erec Cinna and I'm here to help you.”

She started to automatically reach for his hand and he clicked his tongue a little. Her fingers ran right through him.

“You can't actually take it,” he explained. “Being dead and all. Thought you'd figured that one out.”

Her hand dropped back to her side and a quick shudder of rage ran down her spine. She was going to kill him. As soon as she figured out how to get her hands on him, she was going to kill him.

“So,” Erec said. “Anyway, there's no bright light for you or beckoning Uncle Fred, not right now at least.”

“What? Why not?” Kathryn shook her head. “I was a good person.”

“Yeah, that's what everyone says,” Erec drawled.

Kathryn's eyes narrowed in warning and he shrugged in answer.

“It really has nothing to do with whether you were a good person or not. It's because you have life-time left.”

The weird numbness (she was pretty sure it was shock; she was really going to take this hard when it wore off later) was broken by a sudden flare of hope.

“Life-time?” she echoed.

He frowned and shook his head.

“Don't say it like that,” he said. “It's not anything that's going to bring you back. Once you die, you're dead. You stay that way. It's just that, sometimes, there's time left over.”

“I don't get it,” she said flatly.

“No one ever does,” Erec grumbled. “Okay, think of it like an hourglass. Your life runs through it, right? So sometimes, the sands stop moving, but there's still some left in the top of the glass. That's left over time, and it has to be accounted for.”

“What happens to it?” Kathryn asked.

“That's what I'm here for,” Erec answered with a grin. “Let's go.”

He hooked his hands into his pockets and set off down the street, Kathryn hurrying now to catch up to him. He tossed a quick glance back at the accident scene and then gave Kathryn a reassuring smile.

“Don't worry, you will get used to it. Being dead's a lot like being alive. There's really only one difference.”

His smile flexed with amusement.

“Of course, it's a pretty damned big difference.”

 

***

 

Kathryn really couldn't be blamed for not noticing the shadowy figure lurking just out of sight. If she had been thinking clearly she might have expected to see something like that around the site of a body, but no one who has just come to the realization that they're dead can be expected to think clearly. He watched, just another face looming at the edge of the morbid crowd, and wondered just what exactly was going on.

 

***

 

Elixir Design was a huddled building that anyone would have walked past every day without ever realizing it was there. It had this strange ability to be completely invisible despite the too red brick and ornately antique sign that hung over its doorway. There were bottles of various shapes and sizes resting in its pristinely clean windows, but the view into the rest of the building was blocked by thick dark curtains.

No one really knew how long it had been there, or even what it kind of business it was. The neighbors generally ignored it for whatever reason was convenient, and people strolling down the street had a hard time recalling even the name of the place once they turned the corner.

It wasn't unique. There were places like it all over the world. Tiny spots that just seemed to fold in on themselves and not really exist. The laws of the universe insisted that that mass was there, but the human mind has a way of ignoring logic when it's convenient and Elixir Design maintained its anonymity.

“Here we are,” Erec said proudly.

Kathryn's eyes wandered over the building and then back to her `guide'. So far he'd managed to tangle every question she asked. He kept telling her to wait. It seemed that all of life's mysteries were going to be solved in some back alley little store.

“What is this place?”

“Elixir Design,” Erec pointed out.

“But what is it?” Kathryn growled at him.

“Go inside and find out,” he answered with a shrug.

Kathryn wanted to yell at him. She was having a bad day, she was dead, dammit, and she shouldn't have to put up with him. Any moment now she was going to snap and something very bad was going to happen. She forced herself to take a deep breath (a breathing ghost, lovely) and reached for the door. Her hand jerked to a stop and she stared at the handle. Wait a minute, she knew this. Ghost, right? So why bother with the door?

She stepped boldly forward and slammed her face into the well polished glass.

Erec burst into laughter and Kathryn grunted as she rubbed at her forehead. She spun on him as he doubled over, his whole body shaking now.

“You knew that was going to happen!” she yelled at him.

“Oh my god!” he howled. “I never get sick of that!”

“I met you less than an hour ago and I already hate you!” she bellowed.

“Calm down,” he panted. “I'm sorry. It's just, you really should have seen the look on your face. `Oh, I'm a ghost now, I'll just walk right inside.' Ker-bam!”

He burst into laughter again and Kathryn felt her fingers curl into fists. Look, there it was, the last straw. She wasn't really a violent person, but today she felt that extenuating circumstances were on her side. Her fist flew through the air…and harmlessly glided through his chin.

His laughter vanished and he sighed a little.

“Sorry,” he said. “Really. Look, let me explain.”

He gestured back to Elixir Design again.

“This building has a point between the spirit world and the living world, a door that connects things together. So here, as long as you're inside or have contact with the building, you have corporeal form. There are spots like this all over the city.”

Her breath was heaving through her lungs as she stared at him, frustration stiffening her spine into a rod of iron.

“How will I know when I'm in one?” she gritted out.

“Try and touch something,” he laughed. “If your hand goes through it, you're not in the right spot. If you can hold on tight, well…”

“So if I want to hit you, I need to be touching the building?” she asked angrily.

“Yeah,” he said and tilted his head back to offer up his jaw. “Come on, I'll give you a freebie. Just grab hold of the handle and let one slide. You deserv--”

BAM!

Erec staggered back, one hand flying up to cradle his chin.

“You hit me!” he said with disbelief.

“Yeah?”

“No one ever actually hits me!” he yelled at her.

“They should!”

“Dammit,” Erec scowled. “That hurt. Just go inside, already.”

Kathryn flipped some hair out of her face and again wrapped her hand around the door. She paused then, savoring the feel of something in her hand, something she could touch. She hadn't noticed it until now, but she really hadn't felt anything since the car had hit her. Now she could feel the step under her feet and the door in her hand and the dull pulse of pain in her fist. One deep breath and she tugged the door open.

“You're late!”

The angry snap almost sent Kathryn pushing back outside, but Erec herded her in and shut the door firmly behind them.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “It took longer than I thought it would.”

The interior of Elixir Design was almost unbearably modern. The walls were a harsh shade of white and track lighting pinned splotches of artwork high above uncomfortable looking couches. The floors were a polished marble and Kathryn couldn't help the little surprise she felt when she could hear her shoes clicking over it. She made noise here. She didn't care what Erec said, she wasn't going to get used to this.

The entryway seemed like the waiting room of a small clinic or dentist office. A few people were nervously filling it; some clumped together, others very definitely separate. They were all staring at Erec now and Kathryn gave him another curious glance. Just who was this guy?

“Your appointments are piling up.”

The angry woman now stalking towards them was dressed in an impeccable business suit with almost severely black hair pulled up tight on her head. She pointed an angry finger at Erec and jammed some files in his face.

“They've been waiting all morning!”

“Then they won't mind a few more minutes while I talk things over with Kathryn,” Erec said as he beamed and steered Kathryn towards a door tucked on one end of the little room.

“Who?” the secretary snapped.

“Later, later,” Erec said absently. “Twenty minutes. An hour tops.”

“Mr. Cinna!” the woman wailed.

“These are the moments you live for, Ms. Anderson,” Erec said chipperly. “This way, Kathryn.”

The office Erec ushered Kathryn into continued the slick modern feel of the room outside. A sleek metal desk dominated it, tall shelving filled minimally with a few twisted pieces of glass. Kathryn frowned and then jumped as a young girl peered up at her from behind the door.

“Ah, Rose Marie, what are you doing in here?” Erec asked gently.

“The wood has voices in it,” the girl answered dully, her grey eyes flat and glassy as she looked up at them.

She was dressed like an antique doll, her features dark against her pale skin. Long velvet draped just over the floor and thick ribbon held her hair back from her face. She looked delicate and frail, as if she should be placed somewhere out of sight and untouched where the world couldn't shatter her apart.

“The wood is speaking,” Rose Marie murmured at them.

“It always does,” Erec said and dropped a light kiss on the top of her dark head.

“These aren't happy voices,” Rose Marie warned.

“Oh?”

“Very unhappy.”

“I see, I'll keep that in mind. Would you mind making us some coffee?”

Rose Marie blinked and rubbed her fingers over the back of the door.

“No?”

“Good girl,” he said. “Just bring it in when you're done.”

The girl stepped from the door with one last caress over the stained wood and padded around the office. Rose Marie sighed noncommittally then and pushed around Kathryn, their skin never touching, but Kathryn couldn't help it when goose bumps ran over her arms. The girl's hand closed back around the door handle finally and she sharply twisted to the right.

“Ah,” Erec warned. “To the left.”

“Right,” Rose Marie murmured and twisted the knob the other way.

The girl slipped out of the door, never glancing back, and shut it behind her.

Erec sat down and ran a hand back through his hair, his sunglasses quickly thrown onto the desk to reveal a dark pair of green eyes. He gestured to an unstable chair on the other side of the desk.

“Sit down, please. We've got to talk.”

Kathryn frowned, but took the little seat, nervously perching on the edge of it as she tried to get a little comfortable. A sudden burning ran down her throat and Kathryn rubbed her hand over her neck as her face twisted in pain. Something pricked her arm and she roughly smacked the chair.

“Problem?” Erec asked with an amused look.

“No,” she said and shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Phantom pains,” Erec said. “You know, like when someone has a leg amputated and they can still feel it. It's sometimes worse when it's your whole body.”

“Can we get on with this?” Kathryn snapped angrily.

“Alright,” Erec said. “I'm sure you have questions, but just give me a minute first to explain some.”

Kathryn nodded hesitantly and Erec's chair squeaked as he leaned back.

“When people die, it's almost always at their appointed time. They go when they're supposed to, whether anyone thinks it's fair or not, they die when they're expected to. But every now and then we get a case where someone wasn't supposed to die when they did. You, dear Kathryn, are one of those special cases.”

Kathryn wished her heart was beating so she could feel it speed up a little at that. If she'd died when she wasn't supposed to, there must be some plan in place to even things out. It wouldn't be fair otherwise. Erec paused to look at her, and she got the feeling she was supposed to comment at this point.

“Okay,” she said hesitantly, still waiting to see where he was going with all this.

Erec sighed and tented his fingers.

“Usually, when someone dies, their next destination is already determined. Heaven, Hell, reincarnation, entrance into the universe, whatever, it's been decided. But since you bucked the scales, we really have no way of knowing where you're supposed to go.”

He pushed a discreetly positioned button on the side of his desk and the door opened to reveal a very carefully blank Ms. Anderson. She strolled to Erec's side and handed him a thin file before exiting again.

“Thank you,” he called before the door shut a little too firmly.

Erec chuckled and flipped the file open.

“Kathryn Allison McKarthers,” he said. “Birth date, March 25 in Los Angeles, USA. Currently aged twenty-seven, well the math adds up there, so that's good news. No siblings, parents deceased, no children, no attachments.”

The file thumped closed and Erec gave her an amused look.

“Not much for human contact, were we?”

Kathryn scowled. Erec chuckled and drummed his fingers over the file.

“Look, you were supposed to live to the ripe old age of seventy-three when you peacefully passed away in your sleep. We know what we're supposed to do with you at the age of seventy-three, but at twenty-seven…well, who knows where you're destined to be. We don't have enough information on you to make a judgment.”

“Just send me where I'm supposed to go when I die in my sleep,” Kathryn said. “I don't see what's so hard about this.”

Erec's smile became a small cool razor.

“So confident you're going some place you want to be.”

Kathryn's eyes steeled at the faint nervousness that ran through her.

“Is there a reason I shouldn't be confident?” she asked.

Erec shrugged boredly and slid the file back and forth between his hands.

“Look, a person's afterlife destination is determined by what they did through the course of their entire life. By not living the last forty-six odd years of your life, you're throwing off our whole system. There's no way to judge you.”

That pause again, as if he was waiting for her to say something profound. Her jaw shifted suddenly; she knew what he wanted her to ask. He wanted to discuss the elephant that had been trampling the back of her head since he'd first mentioned leftover time. The thought that was still hopefully buzzing in the very beneath of her consciousness.

“So why can't I just go back and live those last forty-six years? Put me back in my body and come back later.”

He smiled and leaned back in his chair again.

“If it were that simple, there wouldn't be a problem.”

Kathryn slumped into the rickety chair a little.

“Remember what I said? I told you, once you're dead, you're dead. That's all there is to it.”

He sat up a little straighter and absently bounced his knuckles on her file.

“You know, most people ask about that right away. They jump right in and want to know first thing if they can get their life back. And when I say no, they tend to argue a little more.”

Kathryn stared back blankly.

“Maybe I'm still in shock,” she said boredly.

“Maybe,” Erec agreed and smirked a little. “And there's still the little matter of just why you jumped ship so early. What happened today? What exactly went on?”

“You saw,” she said sullenly. “A car accident.”

“I saw the car crushed and the woman on the pavement, but I wasn't there when it hit you. Were you depressed? Did you step out into traffic planning to end it all?”

“No, nothing like that,” she said. “I was just standing there and then…I don't know.”

Kathryn stared at the desk, that loud snap of the car crushing in on itself as it struck her popping through her mind. What noise had her body made? What sound did her neck make when it snapped? Had anyone heard it? She'd been right there and she had no idea what it sounded like. She shook herself suddenly and looked back up at Erec.

He looked just as lost in his thoughts as she had been in hers.

“So,” she said, forcefully dragging him back to the present. “What exactly does all this mean?”

“Hmm? Oh. Well. You've got this time left, so we're going to need you to work it off so we can get an accurate judgment.”

Kathryn stared at him.

“What? Wait a minute,” she closed her eyes as she shook her head with annoyance. “What did you just say?”

“Work. For me. For us. You've got forty-six years left to make a good impression.”

Kathryn snorted bitter laughter.

“I'm dead and you expect me to get a job?” she said with disbelief.

“Whole new meaning to the phrase `working stiff', eh?” Erec grinned.

Kathryn's teeth ground together and she was half way out of her seat before Erec raised both hands in an offering of friendship.

“Sorry, that was in bad taste,” he said, but didn't fight too hard to wipe away his smile. “You want to say it now?”

“Say what?”

“It's not fair,” Erec sang to her and then grinned. “You might feel better if you do.”

“And what do you say back?” Kathryn snapped. “Life's not fair?”

“Well, that is true,” Erec said. “Life's not fair. So why should death be?”

The office was quiet a moment and then Erec shrugged noncommittally.

“Look, it's just forty-six years. It could be worse.”

“How?” she growled at him.

“Well…” he sighed and shook his head. “Alright, look, there is another option.”

“And when were you going to tell me about that?” she asked irritably.

Erec shrugged and laced his fingers across the desk.

“You don't have to work for the next forty-six years, you can always decide to simply be judged on the years that you have lived. Then you just wait the years out and get your decision handed down when your actual death time comes around.”

“That sounds fine,” Kathryn said.

“You haven't heard the fine print yet,” Erec said. “The thing is, we can't have you wandering the planet haunting wherever you want. You're not a certified spirit, so I'm afraid that we'd have to ask you to wait in Hell.”

Kathryn twitched a little.

“What?”

“Hell,” Erec echoed. “You know, where all the bad souls go. Fire and brimstone, ice and eternal torment. Pitch fork up your ass, all that jazz.”

“But I…I don't deserve to go to hell!”

“That's what everyone says,” Erec answered flippantly. “It's just forty-six years, unless, of course, at the age of seventy-three it's proven that's where you're supposed to be. Then, I guess it's just forty-six years plus eternity.”

Kathryn stared at him and Erec gave her a small smile.

“You know, I've never actually had someone pick the Hell option. Even when they're certain that's where they're going to end up, even when they're positive about it, they never just want to get it over with. I guess any time you can steal away is time you should take. You might want to keep that in mind.”

“I'm not going to Hell,” Kathryn muttered defiantly.

“Really? How confident are you about that? Can you really claim to know everything that determines your place in the afterlife?” he chuckled quietly. “How many sins do you really think there are and how many do you really think you can get away with? Everyone knows the big ones, killing, stealing, raping, but the little ones add up too. Did you know a wasted life is a sin, Kathryn? You lost forty-six years of your life today, and I have to wonder just how much of the twenty-seven you lived were actually worth while. That's a lot of time lost to try and justify.”

There was another pause now, but this time it was to let her think. He wanted her to try and come up with every shady, wicked, and useless moment of her life, and let them list themselves in her head. And it was working. Erec sighed softly.

“Wouldn't you like to try and tilt the scales in your favor? Wouldn't you like to try and make sure you've got a place that doesn't involve every nightmare you've ever had?”

If she still had a heartbeat, Kathryn imagined she would have been able to hear it in the silence that followed.

“I'll take the job,” she said finally.

Erec beamed, the dark tension that had been cloaking around him suddenly pulling back and falling away.

“Excellent,” he said happily. “Let's find a place for you.”