If you're here, and didn't come the normal way, you have questions. What is death? A river? A woman? A desert? Well to me, it felt a lot like my body burning like candle-wax at the hands of someone I trusted absolutely, which is just as agonizing as it sounds in every possible definition of the word. Which just goes to show, don't teach anyone to burn other people like candlewax. If we could all master that, the world would be a happier place, because I don't see us getting rid of betrayal anytime soon.
The Woman, River and Desert came later, roughly in that order. The woman was young and old, kind and cruel and a few other adjectives. She gave me some gentle encouragement, which is really what I needed to hear, then sent me on my way. I then lay down and floated up the great dark river on to the great beyond. I didn't see a boatmen who gets paid in silver coins, but I was later assured Charon is there too, but it's a big river and a little boat.
I did see a lot of souls stuck in the water as I was pulled up, flotsam on the surface struggling against the current. Apparently, that's what happens to those bound by use of necromancy, which was a little disturbing, but fortunately I wasn't selected to be made into the servant of some hood-wearing cliche who aught to meet more girls, and came to the end, to be immediately confronted with more trials and tribulations. Then came the silvery desert beneath cyclopean stars, which you cross alone, and on the other side, this.
It's a wonderful city, Purgatory, and I mean that in that special way which means impossible to describe, but never boring (contrary to popular belief). A bit of New York, A bit of Chicago, a bit of Manchester and London and Paris and everywhere else (literally, I recognize the parts), all blended together into a hodgepodge of sheer, uninviting stone surfaces, narrow backstreets and alleys, and leering gargoyles, choked with fog, indistinct shapes and perpetual rain.
If you're not ready to pass on, you find a room in one of the buildings that isn't occupied , and make your home in the city, then try to come to terms with your life. If your confident, then you just have to cross through to the gates up at the exit terminal (Highway and a staircase. Apparently the Supreme being listens to music as well). Judgements on the other side. It's as simple as it sounds, but simple isn't the same as easy. Everybody doubts themselves, and when you come to those gates it's easy to question yourself. It's easier to just stay here.
And then there are the intruders. Souls are a power source for the eldritch beings beyond the veil. Of course, most of them can't just reach over and snatch them, but that doesn't stop them preying on the weak, vulnerable spirits. It's so easy and there is so much of it that most get away with it as well.
All sorts show up, Demons of every description mostly, all looking for a last temptation. Of course, all supernatural beings have to obey the rules specific to their kind, they can't just drag you into the back of their car and drive off like a poorly thought out kidnapping. They have to leverage you into contract, so that they can claim ownership. Like how Leprechauns must grant wishes when caught, and Selkies belong to those who own their skin.
Unfortunately, it's pretty easy to leverage people here. And that's where we come in. We keep them from turning men astray out of fear, desperation or confusion and being dragged into other hells. Only a trickle would make it to the pearly gates otherwise, as it is most do turn away for a time first. It takes unusual strength of character to walk right in and accept your fate.
We have a station run by guardian angels, and we keep the bad things out as best we can (which is pretty good, but hardly faultless). Some of us do it out of charity, some as a sort of penance (quiet, brooding men for the most part), some because it's who they are, and it suits them, some because it's their purpose. I don't judge. I do it myself because I'm not ready to let go of the world just yet.
It's pretty noble, but then, if we were really so noble why are we all afraid of what lies beyond the gate? Because that's what it's about in the end, putting off judgement. Your illusions are the first thing to go.
Whenever I do meet another soul, I ask for news. Most tell me things from worlds I've never heard of, others tell of people I'll probably meet, sooner or later.
I turned up my collar to try to keep the rain out (I was already soaked, it didn't do any good) and tried to focus.
A large hand seized my shoulder and turned me, forcing to look up into the face of a heavyset man with dirty-blonde hair, glaring daggers. As always, he put one in mind of a lion, somehow. As a member of the police force that kept the bad things out of the city, he had to be a hard bastard, and you couldn't find a harder, more bastardly man then this immoral man of principles. Gene Hunt.
"Don't be wanting to go that way." He said gruffly. "Last time anyone ventured that way, we never heard from him again. Nor the dozen men we sent to get him back."
I said we did our best. But there is only so much we can do. I don't know what happens to a dead ghost, but nonexistence would be my bet.
"I was just thinking."
"Well stow it, you nonce. You're on the clock. There's a clan of Oni causing trouble downtown. Haven't laid a hand on anyone, just smashing things, but it's a matter of time." He flicks the corner of his head to indicate where he meant. "So I thought, this looks like just the thing for Harry Dresden. So get on with it." His piece said, he turned and withdrew to go find someone to terrorize. He was more force of nature then police officer. I sighed, fixed my coat, and went to go do as he said, calling up my magic. My name is Harry Dresden, and I have unfinished business. If you come this way, look me up before you pass on to pastures greener. We could both use the company.
