Chapter 1; Fallen
Beca Mitchell was never one to take risks. Anything that had a chance of a weirdly negative outcome, she'd decline. She'd make up an excuse. Something to get out of it, really. The whole 'yolo' craze was plain stupid, and so it passed her completely.
She wasn't a risky person.
Beca lived life as best as she could, in fact. She loved to make music, and travel, but didn't get to do much quite yet as she was only just twenty one years old.
When Beca Mitchell's life ended, she didn't really realize just how much she should have taken some risks. It was a strange thought to have when you're – you know, dying – but she couldn't help it. Maybe taking a certain risk would have saved her life, or prevented her early death.
But as her past flashed before her eyes, she couldn't help but think about what she could have done, that she could've done more of. She could have loved more, and worried less - actually live life to the fullest as she's been told before. But her head was hurting, and her eyes were tired. Her body ached as she envisioned what her life could have looked like.
That is, until it all faded gently into one singular buzzing silence.
And then, it was warm.
Okay well, really fucking hot. It felt like hovering your hand over a lit stove, but all over your body. She could feel a small bead of sweat begin to form on her forehead, so she quickly tried to wipe it away, but her hands were restrained.
"What the hell..."
As the brunette slowly opened her eyes, a low chuckle sounded from across what seemed to be an office desk.
"What the hell is right, Shortstack." Opening her eyes fully now, she took in her surroundings. Office desk, office cubicle, office knick knacks, office woman.
So she's gonna take a wild guess and say she's in an un-airconditioned office cubicle, tied to a chair. Seems about right.
The blonde woman sitting behind the desk in front of her was all sweaty, her hands overlapped and holding up her chin – she looked normal. But this was all so confusing.
"You're probably wondering, 'ah, where am I, who is this sexy Australian, why is it so hot'," The woman flailed her hands about as she spoke in a high pitched voice, stopping to click a few times on her computer, before continuing.
"Basically, one of these demon dudes – Dax I think, – he forgot to call the tech guy,"
Beca began to wriggle her wrists that were glued to the arm rests, nodding along to the girl's nonsense. It was odd because there was nothing holding her down, yet she was stuck. Like an imaginary rope was tied around her arms. The blonde's eyes went wide.
"Oh! Yeah, moving around won't help. Anyways, Beca Mitchell right?" Beca gave up trying to free her arms, blowing a stray hair out of her mouth that wandered about during her little workout.
"Uh, yes?"
"Don't freak out, or I guess you could – most people do," The woman across from the brunette wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.
"But you're dead – and Dax is going to be extra dead because it's hotter than Channing Tatum in here."
Beca's back stiffened.
She had this feeling that this is what that was. Afterlife.
This definitely isn't the good place though – if that is a thing. The realization hit her strongly, a small amount of air escaping her as if she was physically punched in the gut.
She wasn't in heaven.
She was sent to hell.
The downstairs place.
Beca didn't think she was that bad of a person. She was sarcastic and a little bitter, but she was never bad. She didn't like bad people, and she secretly piled loads of sugar and cream into her coffee in the morning. Because Beca Mitchell is the type to seem like she drinks black coffee, and tells people she drinks her coffee black, but actually enjoys a whole bunch of sweetness.
It's a weird example – she thinks – to look at, but she's just a little shocked.
"So you'll get assigned to an apartment, and a job to keep you occupied." She slid a packet of papers towards the shorter girl, slapping a stapler against the corner and then settling back in her chair.
"Enjoy eternity, it's not that bad." The blonde woman shrugged, and with a nod of her head, the whole office disappeared.
The brunette was now holding the packet, standing in front of what looked to be a really low end apartment building. An apartment building that never seemed to have an end both skywards, and to her right. Beca's eyes flicked around, her hand still grasping the papers, not uttering one word, or moving one inch.
After about five minutes of standing still with her jaw slack, she finally raised the papers up to her straining eyes, frowning at it. It was literally just a drawing on this first page of what seemed to be a kangaroo wearing boxing gloves. Shaking her head, she scanned through some of the other documents.
Beca Mitchell
Age: 21 Years
Height: 5 feet 2 inches
Occupation In Life: Unknown
Apartment: Third Floor, Baker Hall Apt#247
Assigned Occupation: Wedding DJ
Furrowing her brows at her newly assigned occupation, Beca decided it was only slightly annoying. It seemed most things here were only lightly inconveniencing - which would check out as 'the bad place'.
She made her way into what looked like a lobby, it was very warm in there too, as if the air conditioning wasn't working here just like the previous office she had been in. Wiping the back of her neck with her shirt, she glanced around herself, fanning her documents around her face.
It looked like your average lobby to a hotel almost, it wasn't very big, but it had multiple elevators scattered around. The floor was tiled, and shiny as if it had just been mopped or polished. The ceilings weren't very tall, and the lights had a slight hum to them as if the bulbs were going to go out soon.
It smelled of floor cleaner, and a light sound of country music sputtered from above her, although she couldn't spot any speakers around. Making her way past a plant that was on the brink of death - she stood in line. There seemed to be about two other people waiting to be seen by the front desk worker, she could hear them conversing about the heat, and how the afterlife was treating them. They collected a package, and then filed away to enter an elevator off to the right-hand side.
When it was finally Beca's turn, she sighed as her sneakers squeaked against the floor.
"Hi there sweetie," The woman greeted with a smile, noticing how her hair stuck to her face a bit from the heat.
"Name?" She asked. The brunette blinked a few times, crinkling her papers.
"Uh, Beca Mitchell." After a few clicks and keyboard noises, the lady seemed to make a random item appear - from thin fucking air - just in her hand there. She watched as she placed a key, with a small keychain attached to it on top of the counter.
"This is for your apartment," She stated, typing and clicking some more on her computer before glancing up at the girl.
"We have a gym that is open only between the hours of four in the morning till' noon," Again with the slight inconvenience.
"I know, it's weird - but it's the underworld, what'd you expect?" With a humorous glint in her eye, the receptionist continued.
"Your assignment will start from seven in the morning, until about three in the afternoon, no weekends. It's the underworld but we aren't monsters." She then slid the keys a bit closer to the other girl, nodding towards them.
"Don't lose those," She then resumed her typing whilst staring ahead at Beca. "We don't give out spares." The receptionist kept typing with only one hand, her other one coming up to point across the hall.
"Any elevator works," She said, bringing her hand back down to type with both again.
"Third floor and well — you can count." She brought her eyes back down to her monitor then, flicking her head up once with a loud 'next'.
The brunette hurried to grab the keys with her papers in her other hand. She side-stepped out of the way, gradually walking over to one of the many elevators off to the side. Physically, she had no idea how all of these connected to the other widespread of apartments - but she decided this place defied all of what she had known back when she was living.
With a ding, she stepped out of the elevator that seemed to just take her right to where she needed to go - as for some reason, there were no floor buttons within the lift.
Squinting still a bit in shock of it all, she saw the apartments start from number 210, going down. She passed a few welcome mats, some door signs, and some customized letter boxes before she finally stumbled upon apartment 247.
For some reason she felt like maybe her key wouldn't work, as it looked like a really oddly shaped piece of metal, and the doorknob looked well — normal. But she pushed it through the keyhole, and it seemed to have molded into place, with a click, she stepped into her new home for eternity.
This place surely threw all laws of physics and reality into the dumpster, but she remembered she is no longer on earth as she used to be. Glancing around, the walls were beige — of course they were — and the counters were an off white color. The carpet was brown, and the place was furnished with what she needed.
Dropping the items from her hands on the counter by the kitchen, she continued to explore the apartment. It had two bedrooms, a master and a guest room, and a decently sized bathroom - but the door bumps into the toilet and there's some tiles missing from the shower, it's not that bad.
Feeling a light sweat run down her neck, she cursed to herself quietly. Walking to her thermostat, she pressed the down button multiple times. But ultimately, found it would not go past 76 degrees. With a sigh, she knew it would only be mildly uncomfortable — as most of this afterlife seemed.
Slouching on her sofa that wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world, she thought about it, the world that is. They had the afterlife all wrong.
There were no fiery pits of damnation, in fact, it looked quite similar to earth in a few ways. Maybe it helped people move on.
She hoped her family back down there — er, up there? — were okay without her, too. She never had the best relationship with her dad, but she knew her death would devastate him.
And her mom, well, she hoped she would see her in the good-place. But it didn't seem like that would be happening now.
And so she let it out. One sob after another until she couldn't cry anymore. And flipping the television on to give her some sort of distraction, she found there were only about twenty different channels. One only played The George Lopez Show on repeat — one had golf tournaments, and some other lackluster shows here and there. But one channel was labeled "Afterlife Broadcast". Curious, the brunette clicked onto this channel and watched for a bit.
A leggy brunette with a small red horned headband smiled broadly at the camera.
"—and that's why you never want to kiss a demon without the right lipgloss. Now," Beca snickered, sitting more upright, she adjusted her pillows that were just slightly scratchy against her skin.
"We have a very special message from our underlord, Miss Satan herself!" The brunette quirked a brow at the TV. Satan was a woman, she wondered about that for a moment. They really got it wrong on earth.
"Hey everyone! Please, call me Chloe." And the camera panned towards probably the most stunning woman Beca's ever seen. She had loose red curls draped over her shoulders, and the bluest of eyes to ever exist. And a smile so big and bright — she didn't realize the devil herself would be so heavenly. Shaking her head a moment, she continued to watch.
"I know I don't make too many appearances on Afterlife, but I really needed to get word out on something important." Beca found it hard to believe that this woman on the television was an underlord. She seemed to be sunshine, and like she may be the sweetest person ever. Has she always been Satan? Was this something passed down to you through generations? Was she just immortal and it's how it's always been?
"I won't take up too much of your time. There has been some mixups lately with front gate paperwork. If you have been within one of those mixups, expect to see me directly at your residence within the next few weeks or so. Don't be alarmed if you see me, I know I'm totes intimidating. Also," After her serious message had been over, she resumed smiling widely into the camera.
"Hi mom! I'm on TV!" The camera panned back to the brunette, her giggles taking up the sound system.
"Thank you Chloe — it's always good to see you! That's all for tonight ladies and gentlemen, ghoulies and demons. I hope you all have a good night and get some beauty sleep! See you tomorrow evening!" With a brief outro of the station's logo — the channel fizzled to a few reruns and highlights of past broadcasts.
Deciding she was comfortable enough, she curled up and laid down. Closing her eyes, the short girl drifted off into her dreams. Odd how even the most human of things still occurred within the afterlife — like dreaming, sleeping, feeling. She didn't know if she found it comforting, or unnerving.
But falling asleep into a sea of beautiful blue she decided, was comforting.
