JUDGED
A/N: This story is quite a dark one but I hope a few people take a look. Set in a surreal room somewhere in the afterlife. A special thanks to Laurie for their valuable input.
A frisson of fear went through the young woman as she looked around the vast, dimly-lit room. No furniture but eleven chairs; no decoration or ornaments of any kind, just two doors that seemed to glow with a life of their own. Ten of the chairs were arranged to face each other, and were occupied by five men and five women. The other chair, a little more ornate than the others was occupied by a man who wore a long cloak and a hood, somewhat like a monk's apparel. This man's hood, however, was folded back almost precisely so that his pale face, deep-set eyes and determined mouth could be clearly seen.
"Who are you?" the young woman asked. She was small and beautiful, probably of Oriental origins.
"You may call me 'David'."
"What are you?" asked the ginger-haired man with the intense eyes and the permanently worried expression.
"You will learn. Maybe you would rather ask me what you yourselves are?"
"I think we are all capable of telling you what we are" the young woman spoke again, "I am Doctor Lily Chao-"
"NO."
The word, spoken softly but emphatically silenced Lily at once.
"You are not a doctor; you forfeited that right after what you did, after the path you chose."
Lily tried to remember. The only thing clear in her mind was how she had walked, dazed and frightened, out of a building, and into the path of fast moving traffic. Then, what-? Oh, no. Not that.
"Are we dead?" she asked.
"You have had your question."
David's voice was soft but fraught with menace.
He looked over at one of the other women, who was pretty and a little plump, with long shining copper-coloured hair.
"Robyn? Would you like to ask me that question?"
A memory flashed through Robyn's brain; how she had made the drinks, one for Glen, one for herself, and had sat close to him while they both drank, then seized him in a passionate hug. After the hug… what after the hug?
"Yes" she challenged him, "Are we dead?"
"Yes." David's expression was blank.
One of the men sighed. A slim man of medium height with lots of dark curls and eyes like those of an innocent child. He remembered attending some kind of appointment, possibly a blood test? There had been a sharp jab in his arm. Before that, something had been weighing on his soul.
"Did I hurt somebody?" he whispered, like a frightened child.
David gave him a twisted smile.
"I don't need to answer all, or any, of your questions if I choose not to."
Another of the men sprang to his feet.
"Look, mate. you stop playing cat and mouse with us. If you're a copper, charge us or let us go."
"A copper" David replied, and his intense features twisted in sudden amusement, "I've just told your companion Robyn that you're all dead. Why would you want a copper?"
The young blonde, whose face was as pretty as a pixie in a story book, began to cry. She was afraid to ask her question. But ask it she did, haltingly and through sobs.
"Are you sending us to hell?"
"Oh I'm not sending you anywhere. Not yet. And in the end you will have a choice."
"He's given us all drugs, the bas-"
Iain Dean, the handsome but impatient member of the group, faltered in his speech as he remembered something. How he'd aimed his gun – he knew he'd owned a gun, suddenly – at a man wearing a uniform, but a different type to the one Iain remembered wearing. The man had laughed, shrugged, and then made a deft movement. There'd been a flash of light and then… then, nothing until he'd arrived in this stupid room.
One of the men, a nervous, tall young man with a pleasant, handsome face and a mop of straight brown hair began to cry.
"Save your tears now" David told him almost kindly, "You'll shed plenty of those before you make your choices."
The other young blonde, this one with pink 'flashes' in her hair, who looked as if she had a backbone of steel under her fluffiness, asked "Can't we get this over with now?"
David's smile was pleasant but the words were clogged with menace.
"No, we can't. Every one of you will tell me their story before any choices are made.
The young blond man, who hadn't spoken before, sighed and buried his face in his hands.