Fiction Friday: A Trip Into The Underworld

Prompt taken from here.

Let’s skip the semantics here.

I died.  Ok?  Get over it.  I did.

I closed my eyes on one side and opened them up again on another one, completely different.

I stood on some sort of transport platform.  Is there mass transit for the dead?  Really?

I looked around.  There seemed to be quite a few people wearing the same sort of uniform trying to calm these raging maniacs.  I guess those ragers were people who had crossed over to this side who were currently in denial.

“Hi!” A chirpy bird-like little red-head bopped up to me.  “New here?”  She gave me this cheesy smile I guess she thought was both comforting and inviting, but for me it was just…creepy.

I nodded, careful.  I so did not want to get involved.

Now she became all business.  “Ok.”  She handed me a large binder, with a manilla envelope on the top.  “The binder has all your pertinent information, rules, regulations, laws.”

Should I have pointed out to her that those three words basically meant the same thing?  I shook my head internally.  I let her go on.  And she did.

“The manilla envelope has all your proof of identification paperwork, your work assignment, home information, and so forth.”

She took my elbow and pulled me along with her.  “I’ll take you over here, get your train ticket, and we’ll get you on your way as quickly and painlessly as possible.”

So, we did.

So, mass transit for the dead really is a thing.  Ok then.

The ticket master or whatever he was called tapped in my information as the little red-head rattled it off, faster than I could absorb what she was saying.  Ticket master printed out my train ticket.  He gathered up a travel bag from the shelves behind him and handed me that along with my ticket.  Then he reached over his head and grabbed down a map.  He clicked a button on his desk and detailed instructions were printed out for me. 

He handed me both of those, while explaining which train I was to take, how many stops I would need to remain on the train.  The instructions broke down what to do when I got off the train at my stop.  He also explained to me that I would have plenty of time to go through my travel bag to find everything else I would need to get me home and settled.

I hadn’t noticed when the red-head moved off.  I looked around a moment and caught her now dealing with a rager of her own.  Two other uniformed, greeters, I guess they could be called, came over to help her.

I nodded my thanks to the ticket master and made my way over to the space he sent me to to await my train.

I scanned my instructions print-out.  Apparently, I now owned my own home, and my own car.  There was a map of the town I would be living in.  There were odd asterisks telling me that there were further details in my rules binder.

I read my train ticket next.  Seems I was privy to having my own private accommodations there, for which I found myself deeply grateful.

My train came.  I stepped aboard, showing the porter my ticket.  He took me straight-away to my cabin and left me there.  A note taped to the back of the door pointed out that once the train reached my destination the light above the door would come on to alert me.

Ok then.

I sat down on the padded bench and drew a few deep breaths.  I tamped down any of the quivering emotions that begged to overwhelm me.  There would be time enough for that one I got to my own home, behind closed doors and shut curtains, to break down and release all this pent-up frustration and anxiety.

This was the underworld.  This was death.