3. The Waiting Room
Wolfwood opened his eyes. Wait… eyes? Wasn't he dead?
The room was white. Simply white, because that's all there was to say of it; white tile, white walls, white ceiling.
"Am I in Heaven?" he asked aloud.
"No, this is the Waiting Room."
Wolfwood spun around. There was man there. He matched the room; white suit, tie, shoes, even his beard. "Who are you?"
"Saint Peter. Pleased to meet you."
Wolfwood smiled wryly. "What, no pearly white gates?"
"Did you really think it would look like that?"
"Well… not really."
It was St. Peter's turn to smile. "Then there's your answer."