Holly felt the steel slide through the delicate membrane of elfin skin, between the eighth and ninth ribs, and lodge a millimeter below her heart. It was cold as ice and more painful than words can describe. She fell backward, slipping off the slick blade, crashing through the crust of ash. Blood poured out of her like water from a ruptured vessel. Her own heart did gravity's work, emptying her veins with every beat. ...

"Artemis," she said, her voice weak and thin. "Artemis, help me."

Artemis Fowl glanced her way briefly, then returned his gaze to the bomb's timer, leaving Holly Short to die on the ground. Which she did.

Artemis Fowl: The Lost Colony

By Eoin Colfer

I'm Not Afraid to Die . . . I'm a Little Bit Scared of What Comes After

(It was a strange sensation to die. It was a strange sensation to feel all life drain from her body and leave it an empty shell while her spirit was whisked away to whatever came next.)

The pain was gone now. Strange it seemed, because just moments ago she had felt it would cling to her forever; something that she couldn't be rid of. But she was rid of it. And she was glad.

(Dear Frond, it had hurt so much.) Not her death really, but the moments before her death, the pain magnified by that look in his eyes. The look in his cold blue eyes that spoke volumes. (Pain, it said.)

She supposed she was in heaven now. (Or maybe not.) Maybe she was just suspended in non-existence. Dangling between the fringes of life and death. (Of heaven and hell.)

Religion had never been particularly strong in her family. (How could it be with an alcoholic mother and abusive father?) Perhaps in hindsight she should have been a little more devout; seeing as she didn't know what was going to happen to her now.

It was strange she'd never thought of it before. (The what-comes-after.) In such a high risk profession, it should have been a great concern of hers. (However she'd never been one to think ahead.) But it was too late now. (All she could do now was wait.)

And wait she did. (For maybe hours, or maybe a mere second.) It was strange to her, that many people wait their whole lives to die, only to die and wait for what ever happened next. (And she'd never been gifted with a tremendous amount of patience.)

There was nothing to do but be introspective. (Frond knows she'd never been fond of that.) And she settled into a comfortable position and leveled her breathing. (Although breathing was probably superfluous now.) And she breathed, holding onto the only semblance of life she had left. (In and out.)

And as she focused on the breathing, memories meandered through her mind. (In and out.) Random thoughts that she briefly acknowledged before moving onto the next one. (In and out.) Making the LEP. Being kidnapped by Artemis. (In and out.) Her gradual absolution of the Mud Boy. (In and out.) Foaly's undying friendship. Mulch's somewhat unorthodox ways. (In and out.) And…Root.

Frond, she had been avoiding thinking of him for so long. (And the guilt, dear Frond, the guilt.) She'd evaded the very thought of his name. (Because with it came that searing pain in her heart.)

And as she drowned in the painful memories, she could've sworn that she saw Root himself approaching her. But that was ridiculous, because Root was dead…and so was she. (Apparently she was not quite as used to being dead as she thought.)

She could've cried for joy when she saw the familiar red face looming over her, puffing on that fungus cigar. (In an instant she realized that it was the most wondrous sight she had ever seen.) She couldn't contain herself and dashed over to him and flung herself into him. (Inwardly she cringed about how emotional she was being.)

Gruffly, he brushed her off. 'Now Captain Short, is that any way for you to behave? Throwing yourself into my arms like some silly girl.'

'Ahh, but in the beginning wasn't I just that to you. Some silly girl. How fitting that that's how I act in the end.'

He shook his head at her. 'This isn't the end, Short. This is just a pit stop.' At her furrowed brow, he continued. 'It's what could be called a purgatory. A place for you to wait until you're ready to go on.'

'Well shouldn't you have gone on by now?'

'I have. But I'm here to be your spiritual guide. My job is to help you let go of everything that is weighing you down and help you make that journey.'

'What do you mean weighing me down?'

He rolled his eyes at her, 'I though you'd be smarter by now from all that time you've spent with Foaly. Guess I was wrong.' He let out a particularly undistinguished snort. 'All the emotions that you're carrying around. The unnecessary stuff that will only burden you.'

'Okay, so let's get this hocus pocus done with. What do I have to do? Sit-ups? Laps? How do I get the extra weight off?'

He chuckled, 'I see some things haven't changed. Joking when you don't want to let loose the bigger emotions inside of you.'

She observed him through half-lidded eyes. 'You're not the same Root that you used to be. You've changed.'

He shrugged. 'You weren't expecting to see the ability to change, even after one's life is over? I suppose most people aren't. I was able to let go of the dormant feelings that caused me to be the elf that I was. That's what you're here to do now, Short.'

'Alright, so let's get this over with. What's hindering me?'

He took a couple long drags on his cigar before answering, 'Guilt.'

She almost did a double take. 'How heavy can one emotion be?'

He regarded her with somber eyes. 'Guilt is the heaviest thing to trudge around with, but the hardest to let go of. We know that it's a cumbersome burden to bear, but we can't let go of it for one simple reason: we don't know how.'

'So teach me how.'

He chomped on the end of his cigar in frustration. (She noted that old habits don't die.) 'It can't be taught. It's something that you have to come to terms with on your own. All I'm here to do is to show you where it is, so you can get rid of it yourself.'

She cocked her eyebrow in confusion. 'Pardon?'

'Putting it simply, I help you pinpoint the reasons for your guilt and help you realize it wasn't your fault.'

'So by figuring out how it wasn't my fault, I get rid of the guilt? Piece of cake.'

'That's what you say now, Short. That's what you say now.'

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at his melodrama. 'Fine. What am I so guilty about that's keeping me here?'

'I think you know the answer.'

She didn't want to deal with it head on, she wasn't strong enough to face it, so she flippantly side-stepped his question. 'I thought that you were supposed to give me the answers.'

'I'm supposed to give you the answers that you don't already know yourself, Short. And I'm damn sure that you know exactly what I'm talking about.'

She shook her head, perhaps more forcibly than necessary. 'No. You're wrong. That was my fault. I should've been better prepared. I should've known that Koboi was tricking me. I should've found a way to save you. If I was a better officer, I would've been able to save you.'

'Short, you're a damn good officer.'

'No, I'm not. A good officer wouldn't have failed you. A good officer would've thought better on their feet. A good officer would never have danced unsuspectingly right into Koboi's trap.' Her breath hitched. 'A good officer would never have let you die.'

'No, you're wrong. You should know by now that even the best officers don't succeed all the time. And I couldn't be more proud of you.'

She blinked back the unshed tears. 'I'm sorry, Commander. I can't let go.'

'Then I'm afraid I can't help you.' He reached out and tenderly brushed away the solitary tear that managed to escape her self-restraint. 'But you should know, not only were you a damn good officer, you were a damn good person. I always regarded you as the daughter I never had. And I forgive you.'

And then he faded into the mist, until no sign of his presence remained.

A sob caught in her throat and she tried to keep it in, but it escaped her anyway. It shattered the stillness and echoed in her mind long after it had faded.

'Julius,' she cried. 'I don't deserve your forgiveness.' And she lay on the ground, her whole body heaving with the emotions trying to escape. 'I can't move on. I just can't. I know you forgive me, but I can't forgive myself. I just can't.'

How long she cried, she did not know. All she knew was that eventually her sobs faded and left her lying still and quiet. (And she felt so empty.) His presence had filled her with some unnamed emotion she hadn't felt for so long and now that he was gone, she felt like such a shell.

And then inexplicably, she felt a sort of peace wash over her. And then she realized, if he could forgive her, then surely she must be able to forgive herself. Just because it is easier to forgive others, it doesn't mean that one should let oneself live in regret.

Slowly, but surely, a warmth spread through her bones and she felt as if she were suddenly a thousand pounds lighter. And a dazzling white light began to surround her and she could swear she felt happier than she'd ever felt before.

And then she felt a jolt, stronger than anything she had ever felt before. In an instant, her mind succumbed to blackness.

The blackness brightened into the volcanic atmosphere of Hybras. In front of Holly the imposing figure of Abbot was tossed hard against a crater wall with a satisfying crack.

Confusion swarmed her mind. Had she just fired those shots or had they emerged from a different time? Her mind was pounding and she felt exhausted as if she had just been through a huge ordeal, but that was silly, because she had felt perfectly fine a minute ago.

She shook the grogginess from her head, pondering what could have caused it, when a familiar, yet almost forgotten scent caught her nose. She puzzled over it for a moment before the realization hit. Fungus cigars. But why would she smell fungus cigars on Hybras? It was probably some old scent, brought about by the time jumps.

Holly cleared her mind. She had a job to finish. Quickly, she ran to Abbot's fallen form and hog-tied him, using his own shoelaces for rope. Then she turned and called to Artemis, "Hey. Don't you have a job to do?"

The boy looked over at her with such a strong emotion in his eyes that Holly couldn't even begin to place it. But whatever thought he had must've passed, because he smiled at her.

And somewhere far beyond them, in an entirely different exsistence, Commander Root puffed contentedly on his fungus cigar. He was almost sad to see that Holly wouldn't be joining him, for his own selfish reasons, but, in due time, he knew that they would all be reunited. And that thought was enough to last him until that moment arrived.

Author's Note: I've had the idea of this story in my head ever since I read that infamous death sequence of Holly's. This was one of those stories that would sit dormant on my computer for months until I had a sudden burst of inspiration. I'm still not entirely satisfied with the way things turned out. The ending isn't exactly how I wanted it to be, but, in all honesty, it was the only one that I came up with that had a strong enough sense of finality. I hope that I managed to convey the fact that Holly didn't remember anything about her purgatory without spelling it out for the reader, because I didn't want to be too blunt. I'm also not sure how I feel about my extensive use of parentheses in the beginning of the story. I'd really appreciate some feedback on this story, even if you hated it. All thoughts and comments are greatly appreciated.