My head is pounding. The light is too bright. I don't know where I am. I try to get up, but my body refuses. I reach for my eyes to shield them from the white light. I cannot move. Why can't I move? What's happening to me?
The light suddenly dims as though the white light was switched off leaving me with the remaining dim room lights. I look around, unable to move my head, but from the corner of my eye I can see something move. It was a flash of something dark. A person, perhaps? I am unsure. I open my mouth to speak. No sound comes out. I try again.
"Hello?" I call out, but the only answer is silence. "Is someone there? Where am I?" Again, silence. I try to turn my head again. It feels like a lead weight, but I turn my head to the side where I'd seen the movement. The room is white and clean with only the bed I lay in and a single wooden chair in the corner of the room. There is a man sitting in the chair. He looked human like me, save for the black almost bird like wings protruding from his back. "Hello?" I try again, but the man does not look up. He appears to be reading a book perhaps. I huff out an irritated sigh.
The man suddenly looks up. Then he closes his book and stands, setting the book aside. He walked over to my bedside, lips moving as he went. But I hear no sound. I open my mouth to speak again. "I can't hear you." Again no sound. The man pauses, the look on his face looking thoughtful. Then he picks up the clipboard that's hanging at the end of my bed and a pen. I see him writing on a sheet of paper.
"How long have you been deaf?" He has written.
"I'm not," I say although I cannot hear my own voice. I can't be deaf… I remember the screams. These terrible blood curdling screams. The cries for help. The sounds of the cannons and the sounds…
It all comes flooding back. I remember. I was in a larty (an LAAT gunship for carrying us into battle). I remember the explosion. The crash. I must have hit my head. Sarge. Where's Sarge? Where am I? This isn't-
A gentle hand against my shoulder breaks me from my thoughts. The black winged man- he is wearing all white clothing- is frowning slightly at me.
"Where am I? Who are you?" I ask.
"You're in the realm of death," he replies, only this time I hear him. See? I'm not deaf.
"I can initiate telepathy through contact. You think quite loudly, so this would be faster than you writing out all your answers." He says.
"Writing? Are you deaf? I've been speaking to you." I think bitterly. I see the man shake his head. "Wait. Death? What do you mean? I'm not dead."
"Welcome to the other side, friend," he says.
"I'm not your friend. Who are you?" I ask and try to get up, but my body refuses again.
"My name is Aizo," the man says. "I am a death angel healer. I'm here to help start you on your journey through to the other side."
"Otherside?" I ask.
"Of the River of Souls," he replies.
"Wait…"
"You died," Aizo says. "Your neck was nearly snapped in half. That paralyzed you and you stopped breathing sometime later."
"Is that why I can't move?" I ask. "But if I'm dead, why does that matter? Why am I here?"
"Because no one ever truly dies, Biff," Aizo says to me. "Once you leave the mortal plane, you come here to the underworld where you undergo another journey that you mortals call life after death."
I feel numb. I'm truly dead? "What happened to my team? They were with me in the crash. Are they-"
"I cannot answer that question Biff," he says.
"How do you know my name?" I ask.
"Your memory. Being telepathically connected gives me access to a few of your memories. You could see mine as well, but they're not important to you so I keep them hidden away," Aizo replies.
"You said I'm paralyzed," I say then realized that makes sense because I've been unable to move.
"From your neck down. But it's only what brought you here. It'll heal. I'd say give it another day or so. Seems the healing potion is already working. You can feel my hand on your shoulder." Aizo says.
"What happens to me now?" I ask.
"After you heal, you'll meet with Lord Alexander. He'll show you around and get you sorted so you can pick a job," he says. "Although you never answered my question as to how long you've been deaf."
"I… I don't know," I say. I know I could hear.
"Perhaps your hearing was damaged when you died. If that's the case, it should heal up with the rest of you," he says. Then he takes his hand away and picks up his clipboard again, writing something on it and placing it back down before he turns and walks out of the door.
I have never felt so alone in my life. I can't help but worry about my Sarge and my squad brothers. We were all on that gunship. Am I the only one who died?
Alexander walked out across the courtyard. It was a nice day in the underworld for once. It was cool, a little cloudy as though they might get a little rain. That happened once every hundred years or so. It was late afternoon so the children are finished with their schoolings and are out playing. Some adults are sitting in the rough grass eating a picnic lunch or reading. Enjoying the nice day.
Alexander, the leader of the angels of death, sat at the fountain in the center of the courtyard, looking back towards the castle where he both lived and worked. He was the only one to live inside of the castle. The other angels lived in a separate building that contained apartment complexes for each family or individual.
Two young angels flew overhead playing tag, and he smiled remembering youth. That was so long ago. All was right now.
"Good afternoon, Lord Alexander," another, younger angel said as he walked past, arm locked with his girlfriend's as they passed. She smiled and waved at him.
"Good afternoon Shay, Gabriella." Alexander responded. They went to find a quiet spot to sit and have lunch with their friends. Alexander watched his surroundings for a moment then looked over as his friend and the lead healer landed next to him having flown over from the castle.
"The new arrival is now awakened," Aizo said. "I believe he won't be a good candidate. I won't truly know until he has healed."
"How so?" Alexander asked.
"He seems to have lost his hearing," Aizo replied. "I'm hoping it'll correct itself while he heals, but he doesn't seem to remember when he lost it."
"Perhaps it is a new injury then," Alexander replied.
"Maybe," Aizo said.
"We'll see. The one who came last year. How is he doing?" Alexander asked.
"You mean Links?" Aizo questioned. Alexander nodded. "Very well. He settled in quickly. His flight lessons went well. He's fiercely intelligent and Jensen says he works hard for the guard and is efficient at his patrols. He made top rank in the defense training. He learns very quickly."
"Then I'd recommend you have Links mentor him," Alexander said.
"Are you sure he's ready to be a mentor? He does have some training to go," Aizo asked.
"Yes. He'll be fine. They're the same, aren't they?" Alexander said. "Then they'll have no issue learning together."
"Right. Then I'll go find Links and tell him the good news. I've told Biff that he'll meet with you soon after he's healed," Aizo said standing.
"Right thank you. Please remind me. You know I've got a lot to do this week," Alexander said.
"Don't worry. If he's still sitting in my hospital, I'll be coming to find you," Aizo said smiling then he spread his wings and flew back to the castle. The small hospital was located inside of the castle in the east wing on the bottom floor. Also in the east wing on the second floor was the school for children to attend their classes.
The west wing contained the cafeteria where angels could go and get food twice a day at breakfast and lunch. Each angel would have to provide their own dinner, so they were given rations depending on each families' needs. For instance, if a family consisted of a mother, father, and a baby, they would be given extra ration to account for the growth of their child and the need for things like baby diapers, formulas and clothing for that child. This was because angels made very little spending money.
Travel into the mortal world was forbidden without permission. The only ones allowed to go at any time were angels that were assigned the task of guiding a living soul to the underworld, the lord of the death angels, and the angelic healer because some needed healing supplies were only available in the mortal world.
The entire second floor of the west wing was known as the general ward. The general ward housed orphaned, elderly, or disabled death angels who needed assisted living. It could also be used for temporary stay when a mortal was marked for conversion.
Alexander lived on the third floor of the west wing in a small apartment he had to himself. He had no family. His mother and father had died eons ago. He had to admit that sometimes it was kind of lonely there so he spent the vast majority of his time in his office down on the first floor. He headed back to his office using a bit of wing assistance to get there faster and that way he didn't have to walk back through the courtyard and hear everyone greet him by title.
The moment he opened his door he sighed hard. His desk was piled high and covered in books, folders and papers. Reports, paperwork. Too much that needed to be done. Looks like he was skipping dinner tonight.
"Well I'd better get to work...again," Alexander sighed as he shut the door behind him.
Captainrexbest35 is back everybody!
I'd like to give a huge shoutout to Longlivetheclones for her inspiration and support over the past few months. I finally got my muse back. Hopefully gonna have the second chapter up soon as well.