"Where am I?" Regulus asked. One moment, he'd been falling, falling… falling.
And now, a stranger was welcoming him to the afterlife.
The man seated across the large wooden desk gave a small cough. "All in good time, Regulus. But first, I'm –"
"Am I dead?" Regulus asked bluntly. Apparently, delivering a debilitating blow to a madman's desperate quest for immortality, followed in quick succession by a rather feeble attempt at fighting the Inferi, had stripped him of the little patience – ant tact – he had.
"Yes," the man said, clasping his hands together and placing them firmly on the table.
It was difficult to place the man's age, his bronze skin giving little away. He was dressed rather formally in a well-tailored vest, and a cravat of all things, his coat hanging off the back of his chair. Whatever was the light source in this office – and it was an office, his senses told him as they began to catch up with the situation – cast deep shadows under his eyes and nose. The overall effect wasn't sinister, exactly, but Regulus could tell it was designed to command attention and respect. His brief time amongst the Death Eaters had taught him a great many things.
"Then what are you doing here?" Anger began to stir in the pit of his stomach. This couldn't be it. He couldn't have sacrificed his goddamn life, just to end up sitting opposite a man he didn't know in an office he didn't recognise. After all he'd seen, after all he'd done, he deserved some peace.
The man sighed. "This part is always rather awkward, I'm afraid."
Another feeling rumbled to life: foreboding. Nothing this man was about to say was going to mean anything good for Regulus.
"Regulus, you're dead. This is your afterlife." The man looked directly into Regulus' eyes, and the intensity of his gaze suggested that there was some deeper meaning behind these words.
But Regulus really wasn't in the mood for any games. "Yes, I know."
Leaning forward, the man continued. "You've been selected to be part of a prestigious program. Here, you'll be given an assignment to complete. These assignments require the special – how should I say this? – gifts that one acquires upon their death to be fulfilled."
Regulus stared. This was… absurd.
"This is absurd!" he cried out. "This isn't the afterlife!" No, the afterlife was supposed to be clouds and angels, or fire and brimstone; not some dapper man explaining that he'd have to do what sounded like homework now that he was dead.
The man sighed again. "I'm afraid this is the afterlife. Your afterlife."
"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" Regulus asked, mimicking the haughtiness he'd seen Lucius Malfoy wear like a second skin.
"It means this is where your actions have lead you."
Foreboding and anger coalesced into one. Dread.
His expression must've given him away, because the man gave a small, pitying smile, and said, "Welcome to the Department of Spectral Affairs."
AN: Hello! It has been a very long time since I updated this story, but I've been thinking about it a lot lately, and I felt inspired. This chapter, like the last one, is exactly 500 words. Each chapter will (hopefully) continue in this way. I was inspired to give this format a go after reading Pixileanin's story Game Over (which is excellent). You should all check it out! This is a fun challenge, not something I've tried before. Would love any and all feedback!
Adios, amigos! :D