I woke with a pain in my head. It felt as if someone were taking a jackhammer to it. Groaning, I sat up and surveyed my surroundings. There wasn't much to look at. To my left was a river, flowing through the dismal darkness. Across the river I could see something glowing that appeared rectangular in shape. To my right was an open field, fires burning in odd places, giving the place a hellish look. I shuddered involuntarily.
"Dear. Dreadful place, isn't it? Hm." I turned to see Bill rising, dusting himself off as he did so. His blindfold was nowhere to be seen, so his featureless eyes reflected the light coming from both the fires and the glow. "Not my choice of residence, but I guess it can be gotten used to."
I was about to say something before I was interrupted by an ominous and dark voice that seemed to resound and reverb throughout the room. It sounded roughly female. "Perhaps. But I'm afraid you two shall not remain here long." Our gazes swung quickly over to a figure standing between us and the river. 'Gods,' I thought. 'If she isn't the definition of sinister beauty, I don't know what is.' Tell me about it, Bill responded.
This figure appeared dressed in a white gown, with curves that positively identified the figure as a woman. It wasn't that her... breasts were particularly large, but the gown didn't really cover much above the waist, which caused me to blush and hide my face. "Greetings, my children. How wonderful of you to visit."
Bill and I exchanged glances. Bill knew of my beliefs, and so therefore knew where I was and why. Bill began with, "You must be-"
But the woman interrupted him. "Yes. I am Styx. If my name, and our location, do not explain why you are here, then perhaps it is best that you simply go across the field." Neither Bill nor I got up; we both understood the gravity of the situation. "Good. You are here because you are dead, obviously. You have been buried, which is why you are here now." The two men were silent. They knew this already. "Do either of you know why I am here?"
I spoke. "Frankly, milady, I do not."
Styx laughed. "Well, then. You may or may not be happy to note that I am here because I have a proposition for the two of you."
I furrowed my eyebrows while Bill continued to glare without menace at Styx. "What kind of proposition?" Bill asked.
"You see," Styx began, stepping towards us. "This place, and the place across the field, are not the best secured. Theoretically, you two could go through that gate across the river and to the other side with ease. Do you understand so far?"
I asked, "You mean the dead escape to... where ever that gate goes to."
"Yes," Styx nodded. "They escape back to the land of the living." Bill and I exchanged looks of surprise. We could go back?! "No," Styx continued, as if reading our thoughts, which, I decided, probably wasn't impossible. "The dead cannot go back to living. They go back to the land of the living as wraiths. Spectres, ghouls, ghasts. All the nastier creatures come from here."
I raised my hand to speak. "Uh, if it's possible for the dead to escape on this end, does that mean that those on the, uh, other end can get out as well?"
Styx smirked, which, oddly enough, made her look more beautiful. "Yes, though they need not escape. Because of where they are, they are granted free reign. Theoretically they may come and go as they please, though most prefer to stay within the walls of their... sanctuary." I "ah'ed" and nodded. Styx forged on. "Back to the matter at hand, though. As I said before, the dead, those with less than beneficial intentions, like to escape back to the living, perhaps to go back to their lives, or to do mischief with their new found abilities. Either way, they leave this realm. And they need to come back."
"That reminds me," Bill broke in. "Are we here intentionally? Or was this a mistake? I'd prefer to know... well, why we two are here, here."
Styx frowned ever so slightly. "If it were up to me," she said. "You would not be here. You would be, ah, upstairs, as the case may be. Top floor, penthouse." She shook her head. "But it is not up to me. And I must follow my orders." Bill visibly sagged.
I then put to her, "Well, so you've mentioned that these escaped dead need to be brought back here. Does this tie in to your proposition in any way?"
Styx chuckled. "It is the proposition." Her expression turned grim. Obviously, she didn't like what she was about to say any more than Bill or I wanted to hear it. "My proposal to you is: you may go across the fields. Spend the rest of eternity there." Bill and I gulped. "Or you may go through that gate. Hunt down the dead. Bring them back here."
"What are the terms?" Bill asked immediately.
"You will not be able to interact with most of the living, though you may interact with inanimate objects. Animals and children will also be able to see you. You will not be alone. There are other reapers, several hundred, actually, that may aid you in your hunts. Other spirits, those who have not moved on, while untrustworthy, may also help you. You will not need sleep, and thus I expect you to work at least eighteen hours per standard human day."
"So, you've said we can't interact with the living. Any other hindrances we need to know about?" Bill asked, looking out for his creator.
"Well," Styx replied nervously, which caused me quite a bit of worry. "Because of your volatile state, you may both die. Permanently. I'm not saying you'd be brought upstairs or even down here. I mean you will be completely dead. Your memory will be wiped off the universe. No one will even remember you existed."
The two of us gulped. We glanced in horror at each other. This was the future that awaited us? "Will we forget about each other if the other dies?" I asked, literally quaking in terror of the thought of permanently losing Bill. "I mean, Bill wouldn't be around if it weren't for me. That has to count for something, right?"
Styx sighed in what was obviously sadness. "Yes, you will forget him. But," she continued, in an effort to cheer me up even a bit, I guessed. "You will be reminded of him. If you meet someone or something with a personality similar to his, your heart will ache, and a pain long buried will reawaken. You will not know why, but it will happen all the same."
"Do you know if Bill will die with me? As he did in life?"
"No. I do not. I can only assume that since both of you are, by all rights, dead already, the rules no longer apply."
I stared at the ground beneath me in thought. 'So.' Yeah? 'This is it. We've got only one real choice, don't we?' I don't know. Eternal hell seems an okay thing for me. At least people would remember us. 'Yeah.' Will nodded. 'But I fear that we wouldn't be allowed.'
"You are correct," Styx said, reading our minds again. "Not by my choice. He On High has made it clear to me that you are to 'choose' the proposition I have relayed to you, no matter the cost." Styx shook her head. "Trust me, if it were up to me, you two would be living it well in the Elysium Fields. With what you've done for the universe..." she sniffed. "I don't care that you murdered a pony in cold blooded revenge. I can understand that." When she looked back at us before her, we noticed her eyes were teary and when she spoke next, her voice was shaky. "I wouldn't wish this treatment on you two."
"Why us?" I couldn't help but ask desperately. "Why were we chosen for this?"
Styx sniffed again, and, against her better efforts, a tear fell from her eye. "Most of the time, He On High has me choose several to dot worlds with, to keep up our... 'forces,' I guess you'd call them. More rarely, though, he has me personally choose a few to go back. Because," she added shakily, almost as if she were regretting to admit this. "He doesn't like it when I get attached to anyone."
"So," Bill asked. "Are we part of the former case? Because..." he trailed off.
"Forgive me for saying so," Styx replied sadly. "But... well, I've... always kind of... had a crush... on, well, you, Will."
I looked taken aback by this. I had no doubt Bill was as well. "What?" I asked incredulously.
"It's true, and I am sorry. I know you are... were married, but... I couldn't help myself. You were always so tough..." she trailed off for a moment. "And handsome," she added much softer.
"Why would He make you do this if you've gotten attached to someone?" Bill asked, trying to bring the topic away from Styx's apparent liking towards me.
"Well... He hopes, not with hatred or hostility, that they will die at work, causing any and all memory of them to pass away, never to be remembered again. He hopes that they will die so I no longer show them affection." She sobbed. "I don't know how many he's made me do this to. Everyone I've showed affection for and was forced to place them as a reaper has died. I'd remember them if they hadn't." She fell to her knees, sobbing into her hands as she did so.
Since Bill and I were sort of still recovering from the shock of the sudden mood change, we really did nothing to comfort Styx. Not that she needed comforting. About five seconds of crying, she regained her composure. Standing tall, she smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress. "I'm sorry, for breaking down like that." She wiped at her eyes. "I guess I'd better send you on through." Hesitantly, Bill and I stepped forward towards the river. Styx chuckled sadly. "Well, come on, don't be shy. Charon doesn't bite."
And indeed, Charon was there, waiting on his boat to ferry the two of us across. Wearing a long robe with a deep cowled hood, Charon's true form was mysteriously hidden. The only thing we could be certain of was that Charon's eyes glowed bright yellow beneath the shadow of his hood. As Bill and I neared the boat, Styx called for us to hold up. "Wait," she said, running up to us. "I forgot to take your tickets."
Bill and I looked at each other in surprise. She'd never mentioned anything about tickets. "They're in your left breast pockets." We got them out, and handed them to Styx. Then, she withdrew a ticket puncher and punched our tickets. Seeing our bewildered gazes, she laughed, saying, "Listen. We may be old, but we can modernise too, you know."
With Styx waving goodbye, we boarded Charon's small ferry. We handed him our tickets, which he promptly threw in the river. He began paddling across the river. Not a word emanated from him, and the silence between the three of us dead people... well, two dead and a minor God... was uncomfortable to the two of us peons. Thankfully, the river was not too wide, so the silence only lasted a minute or so.
As the ferry neared the far side of the river, the portal came into focus. It was a swirling mass of pastel colours, slowly mixing with each other as they moved in an almost liquid state. The ferry stopped by the shore. Unsure of what to do next, for fear of somehow insulting Charon, Bill and I stood still. It wasn't until Charon slowly lifted a thin, and rather horrifyingly skeletal, hand with one finger pointed at the portal. We took no more time in acting, and immediately hopped off the boat. We stood at the lip of the gateway, nervously and mentally preparing ourselves for the plunge into uncertainty when we heard a raspy, ghostly voice behind us.
~One final farewell.~ We turned around to find that Charon had moved his right arm over his chest, fist over his heart in a warrior's salute. ~I do not expect we shall ever see one another again.~ Charon pronounced his words as they were spelt, saying "uh-gain." ~Farewell. And good luck.~ Bill and I both saluted hesitantly in a similar fashion, each of us saying our own uncomfortable goodbye to the mysterious figure. With that, Charon began paddling his boat back to the hellish side of the river.
The partings complete, Bill and I took a short huff of breath and, together as one, stepped through the portal.