Death comes for all—some gently, some without warning. It arrives through the choices we make or the consequences of someone else's hand. Yet in this vast world, one question lingers like smoke in the wind: Where do we go when we die?
A question older than time itself. One no voice can answer, because those who have learned the truth take it with them beyond the veil. And those left behind? They are haunted—not by ghosts, but by the silence of the unknown.
Theories bloomed. Beliefs rose and fell. Debates raged like wildfire.
But in the end, none of it mattered.
Not to her, at least.
Because it would seem… her predicament was none of the above.
She had died. Tragically, in fact.
But instead of judgment, enlightenment, or some divine choir welcoming her to the pearly gates, she found herself… floating. In what looked vaguely like a dark, endless tomb.
Come on.
Was hell on a budget or something? Did the spirit money run out when it came to her? Had her soul been deemed too unworthy for even damnation?
Even hell had rejected her, aye?
She was, frankly, astounded. She'd really been booted to a bootleg afterlife.
"I'd really like to speak to management!" she hollered, her voice laced with speechless outrage.
"Dammit, I did not die just to spend eternity in some cosmic storage closet!" she wailed.
She tried to cry, but—alas—spirits don't have tear ducts. Not even one pity droplet.
With no other option, she wandered aimlessly for a bit before eventually plopping down onto what she guessed was the "floor" of this glorified void.
It had been five minutes.
And she was already spiraling.
"I'll take Hell for five hundred, Alex? Heaven? Purgatory? Anybody? Someone come get me—!"
Ten minutes in.
Sanity? Completely gone.
"How long are you gonna keep me in this shitbox?!" she screamed into the emptiness.
Her voice echoed back:
Box… box… broke… loser…
She froze.
Huh? What was that? When did I even say that?!
Her head whipped left and right, scanning for witnesses. There were none, of course.
"Hah. Say it again if you dare," she muttered with a laugh before sighing. Maybe she really was losing it.
Then the void responded again—louder this time:
Broke… Loser…
Her nonexistent jaw dropped.
It really said it again!
"Who's broke?!" she shouted, laughing in disbelief and rage.
"I—this lord—had enough money in life to fill this empty void twice over, okay?!"
If someone had been there to witness it, they'd be speechless. She only responded to the broke part.
She suspiciously let the loser part slide.
"Hmph. This lord won't bother with you," she scoffed, turning to walk away—
and immediately tripped over nothing, plummeting face-first into the ground in a full-blown, shit-eating position.
The void responded, almost gleefully:
…Ha ha.
Ines seethed.
This place had a damn conscience. And worse—it had the audacity to bully her. And she didn't even have a way to fight back.
Truly angering!
When in her life had she ever been bullied?
No need to think.
Never. That's when.
"Damn you!" she shouted. "Don't let this miss find your weakness or else—"
Her laughter turned slightly unhinged. "I'll destroy you!"
But before she could begin plotting her evil vengeance, a soft light shimmered in the distance—like God had finally decided to pity her, just a little.
She froze.
The light looked… warm. Gentle. Like a beacon of hope piercing through the bleakness.
No hesitation.
She ran toward it.
A small orb of glowing light hovered before her like a firefly in the dark. Tentatively, she reached out with what she assumed was still her hand. She expected it to pass right through, just like everything else in this place.
But the moment her fingers brushed it—
A blinding light exploded through the void.