Limbo Liberation E-Book

Samuel Pincombe

• Herausgeber: novum publishing
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 422

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

Death… is not the end. Marlo White falls into an afterlife unlike anything he ever expected: the terrible dystopia of Limbo, ruled by beings far greater than humans. They're particularly interested in him, and before he knows it, he falls into a half-hearted rebellion filled with some of the most bizarre people Marlo has ever met. In this realm of deception and mystery, he must evade capture, survive numerous conflicts, and discover who he really is. Can Marlo aid the resistance and make a real difference, or will he fail and face a fate worse than a second death? As he navigates this treacherous world, Marlo must discover his inner strength and determine his true role in the fight against the oppressive rulers of Limbo, finding unexpected allies and unearthing hidden truths along the way.

Leseprobe

Imprint

All rights of distribution, also through movies, radio and television, photomechanical reproduction, sound carrier, electronic medium and reprinting in excerpts are reserved.

© 2024 novum publishing

ISBN print edition:978-3-99146-959-9

ISBN e-book:978-3-99146-960-5

Editor:Chris Beale

Cover photos: Daniil Peshkov, Krookedeye | Dreamstime.com

Cover design, layout & typesetting: novum publishing

www.novum-publishing.co.uk

Chapter 1: Death

Looking at Marlo White, you’d never have expected him to end up in front of a train that afternoon. Of course, he was just as shocked about it as anyone else. It wasn’t exactly on his to do list. Very little was, now he was done with school. He headed home, walking the same route he had for years.

You could be forgiven for thinking he didn’t have a care in the world. He certain looked that way. His eyes lazily scanned a sky as blue as they were, his salt and pepper curls bouncing as he walked, and his tall slender body was practically strolling down the dirt path. He was, in short, nothing special. He looked unbothered. But a discerning eye, one that was looking past the surface, would see things differently. They’d see those hands, tanned as the rest of him, clench and unclench as he walked, as if he was thinking of something unpleasant. They’d see his soft face wearing a distant look, as if deep in thought. They’d see that this stroll, while appearing casual, was actually slow, meandering, like a river in no hurry to get anywhere. Not in a careless way, but… as if he was delaying something. As if, in effect, he was trudging along, rather than walking, to a place he really didn’t want to end up. That place was back home.

Marlo was not happy. He wasn’t exactly sad, to be fair, but he certainly wasn’t happy. He weighed up the pros and cons in his head as he walked. Pro, he was leaving school. Marlo had never liked school. Academically, he was inept. He wasn’t exactly stupid… at least he hoped he wasn’t. But… he just couldn’t do it. He’d tried, back when he was young. Tried so, so hard, to actually study, actually succeed, and actually mesh with the place. But it had made no real difference. He hadn’t been happier. In fact, he’d been miserable. And there had been no improvement in his grades, not after hours of work. So a while ago… he’d given up. Checked out mentally, gone through the motions. Did the bare minimum work, cutting corners wherever he could. He called it going with the flow. He’d gotten pretty good at it, taking the path of least resistance, just coasting through. The fact he was done having to do that, was a relief. That was definitely a pro. Now, onto the cons.

The sunlight filtered down through the leaves, tinting green as it fell on Marlo. The air was warm, the breeze was light, and the woods he knew so, so well, were spectacular. He wasn’t in the right mind to enjoy it though. He was six cons in and counting. He’d blown it. What could he do now, after school? These grades were passable, sure. He could certainly go… somewhere. But when he wondered where, and to do what he just… couldn’t muster any energy. Nothing interested him. Nothing at all. He felt like there was something he should be doing though, and that made this apathetic blanket over his mind all the more frustrating. Marlo wasn’t the type to just exist. He had to be doing something, contributing somehow. But… for too long, he’d done just that, hadn’t he? He’d floated through life, unbothered, uncaring. Now, that he actually had to care… he couldn’t.

He reached the train tracks that crossed the path, still lost in thought. He didn’t want to go any further. Back home were his parents. They expected more of him, but Marlo didn’t resent them for that. He expected more of himself than this listless life, he had enough self-respect to do that at least. No, what pissed him off about them was that… they cared. While he didn’t. They kept supporting him, kept expecting him to do better, kept hoping that he’d make something of himself. Going home now and showing them that he hadn’t… that he couldn’t… the thought was like Someone had grabbed Marlo’s innards in a fist and was slowly twisting them. He didn’t want to face the consequences. He hated the idea so much. He knew it wouldn’t solve the problem, but right now, he wanted to just leave. Walk off into the woods, spend a few hours there, anything to delay the looks on their faces, the realisation that he was such a wasted investment. This hesitation made him look down the tracks, and that was how he saw the tarp.

It was greenish-grey, stirring in the breeze. Something about it didn’t look right to Marlo, in a way he couldn’t quite explain. It was too motionless, this big tarp barely moving in the wind, just the edges twitching. Like it was stuck to the tracks, like it was hiding something. As he thought this, more out of idle curiosity than any real suspicion, a corner flipped up. It was only for a second, but it revealed what it was hiding. His eyes widened, and he started forwards, a stumbling run towards a tarp now moving a lot more. This movement didn’t reveal what he’d seen for a second time, but as he approached, he started hearing noises from underneath. They were muffled, hard to make out even in the still afternoon, but he kept going, hoping he’d been wrong, that he hadn’t seen what he’d just seen. It had been a human hand. And it had been moving.

He sprinted over, feet spraying gravel as he did so, grabbed the cloth, and ripped it back roughly. Underneath was the face of a woman. Maybe middle aged, it was hard to tell through the massive bruises and blood stains that mottled her face. Her mouth was gagged, and the one eye not swallowed in a black, swollen mass widened as Marlo peeled back the fabric.

‘MMMMM! MGGGHH!’

Her neck, along with every limb, was bound to the rails by thick ropes. The rails that, as Marlo watched, started to vibrate. He looked to his right, and saw, snaking towards them like a hunting viper, coming down a hill less than a half mile away. The train.

‘Oh God. Oh… I…’ Marlo had nothing. He felt sick. Shakily, he dropped his bag, and, after some frantic searching, pulled out a tiny pocketknife. He used it to open bottles, and the torch attachment for when he dropped his phone down the side of his bed. He hadn’t even seen the blade in the past year. When he pulled it out, the blade got stuck for a second, and in his panic, he dropped it. After some frantic scrabbling to pick it back up, upon being unsheathed, it looked painfully small.

‘I don’t know if this’ll be enough,’ he said to the woman. She just made another desperate noise through her gag. Marlo tried to take a deep breath but felt like his chest was closing up. Just a second ago, he had been a different person, one who’d never, ever end up seeing something like this. His problems had been non-existent compared to what was happening now. The whiplash made him want to cry. ‘I… You’re gonna be fine. Let me just see…’

He stuck the knife into the tarp and ripped it open. What he saw made him almost throw up on the spot. The woman’s body was stripped to just rags, her clothes shredded, and her flesh beaten and bloody. At least two of her limbs were bent at unnatural angles, bound horribly to the rails. She definitely couldn’t walk, even if he did get her out. The metal was hot, too hot, warmed all day by the sun Marlo had thought was so nice just a minute ago. It must have been agonising to lie on, and he wondered how long she had been here. He hadn’t seen her when he had walked to school this way this morning. But what if she had been there, and this was just the first train of the day?

‘How long had…’

Come on, this wasn’t the time for this! He looked desperately at her bindings, trying to work out which one to cut first. But did it matter? Surely every single one helped. She wouldn’t be free until they were all gone, so why not just pick one at random?

He leant in, bringing his knife to cut her gag. She pulled her neck back as best she could, and made a strained, terrified groan.

‘It’s okay!’ Marlo said. ‘I won’t hurt you!’ The woman shook her head as best as she could and motioned with her eyes to the ropes wrapping her to the rails. Marlo stared for a second or two, then realised what she meant. Cutting her gag didn’t help. That wouldn’t make her any safer, and it certainly wouldn’t get her out of the train’s path.

‘Oh God, you’re right. I’m so sorry- I should have…’ Another strained grunt from the woman interrupted him. He didn’t have time to apologise. He shook himself and nodded.

‘You’re going to be fine,’ he assured her, leaning in and sawing at the rope around her neck. ‘I’m going to get you out of here.’ He could feel the vibrations of the approaching train, hear it getting closer. The woman would be able to as well. Could he get her out in time?

The rope gave way under some frantic sawing. He almost put too much force into it, almost cut into her neck, but stopped just in time. The woman, now able to move her neck, pulled it away from the metal bar. It made a series of crunching pops as it moved that brought tears to Marlo’s eyes. He fought through them, bringing the all-too-small blade to the rope around her right arm. He cut and cut, trying to block out the rumbling noise coming up from the rail, and soon that arm was free too.

It was bent and broken, with a dreadful burn from the hot metal, and was clearly beyond her control. Not wanting to leave it mangled around the bar, Marlo gingerly pulled it across the woman’s chest. She bit down on her screams, clearly understanding his intentions, and he tried not to recoil at the sensation of puffy, hot flesh. He moved to the next arm, throwing himself at the rope, as his head pounded. He was too slow, way too slow! He was leant over the woman awkwardly, one hand cutting the rope, the other bearing all his weight. That palm was splayed on gravel, and as he leaned over, it broke the skin of his hand, making him grit his teeth. His other hand sawed incessantly, back and forth, back and forth. Eventually, he freed her arm. This one she could move by herself. She immediately reached over, grabbing her broken arm and pulled it, groaning the whole way, to what must have been a more comfortable position.

‘Sorry!’ Marlo said, his flushed cheeks accentuating the throbbing in his skull. ‘That looks bad… I learned in school how to make a sling, so I can give you one when I get you… out…’

He made the mistake of looking up and saw the train. It was way closer than he’d thought it would be and was coming fast. Too fast. Much too fast. He couldn’t save her. There was no way in hell.

‘Oh no.’ He whispered, eyes burning. The woman looked back too, and started to scream beneath her gag, thrashing violently.

‘Stop!’ Marlo yelled, fighting the creeping feeling of despair and losing. ‘Just calm down and I’ll… I’ll…’ There was no way the train would stop in time. It wasn’t even slowing down yet, the driver probably not seeing the two prone figures on the track. He couldn’t get her out. He couldn’t do anything. Anything at all. Nothing he could do would save her. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and fearful.

‘I…’ Marlo wanted to run. He had to! He couldn’t stay… if he did… ‘I’m sorry.’

The woman screamed, the sound shredding Marlo’s insides and her one arm grabbed him. She was begging him. But what could he do? If he stayed there, they’d both get hit. If he stepped back then only she would… would… He couldn’t hold it anymore. He doubled over and threw up; hot, stinging gunk rushing up his throat and splattering all over the ground. He managed to turn away from the woman, as in his head, he saw what would happen to her. The massive bulk of the train would grind her to nothing, the violent combination of weight and speed vaporising her into a fine mist.

Her grip loosened, and he stared at her, breathing heavily. She shook her head and closed her eyes. His heart sank. She wanted him to go, to leave her to this. If she was okay with it then… He heard a noise, a persistent, coarse grating, barely audible over the encroaching train. He looked down, and saw that he was still cutting, attacking the much thicker ropes around her legs. He hadn’t even realised he was doing it. His body was doing it on his own. Why? He couldn’t help her; it just wasn’t possible to get her out in time. He had to… he had to…

He gave a yell of adrenaline and threw himself back into it. The woman, who’d closed her eyes, opened them again. She looked at him, and her protests were clear even through the gag. She started whacking him, trying to push him away, but he fought through it.

‘Shut up!’ He yelled. ‘I’m not… I can’t leave you! I know… I know I can’t do it, but if I don’t try… I’ll never be able to…’ The words wouldn’t come. Marlo doubted he could articulate it at the best of times, and this sure as shit wasn’t those. But he knew, with every last part of his soul, that if he backed up even a little now, he would never, ever forgive himself. He was doing this, or he would die trying. Too late to back out now.

‘Work on your right leg!’ He yelled ‘Do whatever you can!’ Her shouts died down. Now that he’d knelt next to her for this long Marlo realised how much like his mother she looked, evident even through the rampant bruising. She might have kids of her own, and that was why she wanted him to go. He could get her out though. He had to! He pressed that rope with all his might.

He was still just as scared. That hadn’t changed. If that train hit, they’d both die on the spot. But he couldn’t let that stop him. He fought and fought as the train tracks rattled, louder and louder, harder and harder. The woman clawed at the rope on her other leg as he finally cut through this one. If her efforts meant one less second cutting, then they were worth it. The train was closer, a wall of sound rushing at them mercilessly. He couldn’t spare time to wonder how close it was.

He attacked the last rope with all he had. He was shaking, and that made him occasionally glimpse the train, out of the corner of his eye. Time felt slower the nearer it got. He could see the driver; it was that close. A middle aged, balding man, he’d slammed the brake, but Marlo held no misconceptions that would save them. Not even close. He had to cut her free, and then pull her down under the train, between the tracks. It’d be agonising, probably burst their eardrums, but there was a chance, their only chance, of survival. He ripped and tore, not even noticing he was screaming, a bellow of pure fear and effort, pushing his entire body into cutting this one rope. How long did he have? Twenty seconds? Ten? His whole body was tensing for a blow it couldn’t possibly survive. With one last roar, he sliced through the rope and freed the woman.

His hands moved before he thought, his body operating before his brain could catch up. His hands grabbed the woman by the shoulders, his hips rotated, and using every last possible bit of strength he had left, he threw her over him, out of harm’s way. The act of doing so turned him upside down, bringing him face to face with the train, now less than a metre away.

For an instant, a single point in time that felt like an eternity, everything went still. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the woman crashing to the ground just beyond the tracks. Her arms, both the working one and the broken, reaching for him. He didn’t care about that though, his eyes fixed on the massive hulk of metal in front of him. The logo DVIN was emblazoned across its front, blue and purple. It stank of oil and couldn’t possibly be avoided from this close. It was a wedge of metal, stabbing forwards at him, impossible to dodge. This was it. He was going to die here. here, in the woods he’d known for so long, had spent so much of his life in, walking, climbing, swimming, living. He was going to die, right here, after saving this woman’s life. Just when his life was supposed to be starting for real. Dying, beneath a warm sun and a blue sky, having just saved a woman from the fate that he was about to experience.

Right before impact, his final act in this life, Marlo smiled. There were worse ways to go.

Time sped up again. The train smashed into him, shattering his skull first and obliterating his brain. It travelled practically through him, vaporising his body, just as he had imagined it would. Bone fragments flew everywhere, embedding themselves into the ground or even driving deeply into nearby tree trunks. The bulk of his blood sprayed upwards, splattering the window of the poor driver with a gory shower, who would need eighteen months protracted therapy to ever touch a brake lever again. Not one recognisable body part remained. From head to toe, even in the most minute areas such as teeth or inner ears, Marlo White was destroyed, utterly and wholly. Death was instant and, almost certainly, painless.

Chapter 2: What Comes After

Marlo opened his eyes again. Then frowned. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He hadn’t exactly felt it, not for any length of time that was significant enough to count, but it was hard not to notice several hundred tons of metal passing through your body at 80 kph. It was completely impossible to bring him back from that. There was nothing left to resuscitate. He had died. Unquestionably. Then it hit him. Of course he had died. This was what came next.

He was standing, wearing white, light, clothes he’d never seen before, in a resplendent room. It reminded him of a bank lobby for some reason, though it didn’t look like any bank he’d ever been to. Perfectly smooth, faintly cool marble was beneath his bare feet. There were golden pillars all around him, and soothing, warm lights overhead. It was spacious and pleasant, and Just being here felt calming. This felt as much like the afterlife as anywhere could.

‘Ah, good.’ A buzzing voice said. Marlo’s eyes focused, and he noticed a small figure in front of him. Dressed all in dark clothing, an individual stood. Well, not stood. Blurred. The outline of the man was fuzzy, and faint images of him appeared and disappeared all over the room, just in the corner of Marlo’s vision. Every time he turned to look at one, it disappeared. This same shimmering effect made the man’s voice buzz and hum as he spoke, like a fly’s wings. ‘You appear to have come to terms with your own mortality, or should I say, lack thereof. Saves me time.’

‘This is… Heaven?’ Marlo hadn’t believed in life, but it was the natural conclusion to draw from his surroundings. The man snorted, making a sound like a blender starting.

‘Heaven? For the likes of you? Don’t bet on it.’

‘Huh?’ the still befuddled Marlo felt, for some reason, he had to argue his case, ‘I died saving someone. That has to count for something.’

‘Oh, remember that do you? Good for you. But think hard kid. You sure you never did anything bad ever?’

‘I mean, ever, sure. But surely not enough that I’d not be-’

‘We’ll see later.’ The figure interrupted him. ‘No, this ain’t Heaven, kid. But luckily for you, this ain’t Hell either. This is Limbo. And I have the pleasure of being your introductory guide.’ There was suddenly a water bottle in the man’s hand. He hadn’t walked anywhere for it or pulled it out of anywhere. Nothing there one instant, water bottle the next. The label read DVIN. Marlo felt that was important for some reason. The man took a swig. ‘The name’s Hermes.’

‘Hermes?’ Marlo asked, trying to keep up, and failing. ‘Like… the God?’

‘Something like that,’ Hermes said dismissively. Marlo had to admit, if he were to imagine Hermes at any point before meeting him, he’d have imagined a little… more. The man in front of him was short. Maybe thin, it was hard to tell since he was swamped in layers. Over his clothes, which were a mix of greys and darker greys, was a large, black cloak. He wore a hat so wide brimmed two of him could fit under it, and underneath that, there was a hint of two golden circles, which peered out at Marlo.

‘Aren’t you supposed to have wings on your shoes and hat?’ he asked, weakly.

‘They’re in the wash.’ Hermes yawned, sounding like a desk fan. ‘Listen kid, can we get a move on? I’ve got 400 new clients just since you got here. Splitting my attention between you all gets distracting, so I’d like to get your examination over with quickly.’

‘I mean… I don’t know what it is… but sure.’

‘Five hundred now.’ Hermes checked his watch. ‘Let me just show you. Hold still.’

‘Hold still? Why would I need to – Huh?’ As Marlo was talking, Hermes blurred behind him. He tried to turn, but one hand placed itself on his back, and one gripped the back of his cranium. With strength that was unlike anything he’d ever felt, his head was grated back into place, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to show that it definitely could. The hand on his back tilted, and he was lifted slightly off the ground. Before he even had chance to react to this, the world blurred. He rocketed forwards at an unbelievably sudden velocity out of a pair of double doors, and down corridor after corridor, snapping left and right at speeds he had never experienced in his entire life. Gold and white blurred past, and he shut his eyes as he began to feel terribly ill. This made it worse. The wind tore at him, feeling like it was trying to shear his face off. His hair flapped behind him, almost at risk of being left behind, and all his organs felt like they were crowding up in his head. He started to scream but couldn’t even hear it.

then, just as suddenly, they stopped. The practically instant termination of the fierce force that had been making him hurtle along made him fall forwards, collapsing in a jittering heap. Behind him, there were a series of awful grating sounds. Gasping and gagging, he managed to roll over and saw that Hermes was pulling on a lever which was – he blinked. Yes, it was set directly into his leg.

From it, running all the way down his legs to his feet, was a blue line, some glowing blue fluid set into the limb. His legs were not dark trousers like Marlo had thought. They were metal. His feet too, the toes of which had snapped out into what looked like claws. No, not claws. Tiny wings. Tiny wings turned upside down, the metal feathers acting like running spikes. behind him, the previously pristine marble floor was now marred by deep black scorch marks, as if something had come to a violent stop. Then, Marlo’s body overtook his mind, and he turned back to retch onto the floor. Nothing came out, not even ectoplasm, which a small part of him had been hoping for.

‘Not much point in doing that,’ Hermes noted, ‘Your soul has never had a meal in its entire existence, so there’s nothing to vomit.’

‘Some… warning… would be nice…’ Marlo panted in between dry heaves.

‘Why bother? You all react like this just the same.’ He pushed the lever, which must have been brakes of some kind, back into his thighs, and with a brush of his hands, they were indistinguishable. The claws retracted back into his feet, and he cracked his neck. ‘Seems like an overreaction. I’m doing it all the time and it doesn’t affect me.’

Marlo remembered the constant blur all around Hermes, which was still going. It hadn’t stopped once. ‘Are you… How many conversations with people are you having right now?’

‘I said, didn’t I? Five hundred. Well, 600 now.’

‘But… how…’

‘Well, I tend to arrive once you’ve said all your words, say all of mine, and while noise I made is busy being emitted, run back home, grab a snack, have a quick nap, and then come and do the next one. Everyone else didn’t want the gate-watcher job but I must admit, as boring as it is, it’s not hard. I can go much faster than I did for you there, but I’m supposed to let you see my augmentations to ease you into the world. It’s not fun turning them on and off 100 times a second, but at least I get to put it on company expenses. That answer your question?’

Marlo had no idea what he was talking about. That wasn’t what he had meant. He’d been told that this was a God, but something about this flagrant, casual display of power… was terrifying. He still couldn’t see Hermes’ face below that hat, aside for the occasional glint of gold, which could be piercings, fake teeth or glasses. But he could sense that Hermes did not like him. Not one bit. This felt like cold courtesy, like a police officer telling a convict their rights before locking them up. They might have just exchanged a few words… but it was something in Hermes’ tone that made him certain. It didn’t sound malicious. It didn’t sound revolted. It sounded like the owner of the voice didn’t view him worthy of evoking emotion. Like he wasn’t even a person, like these words were a mere formality, repeated time and time again. A creeping sense of dread overcame his queasiness, an even more uncomfortable feeling.

‘This isn’t a human I’m talking to’ It finally hit Marlo, as he managed to properly pull his mind off the train, and focus on his surroundings wholly. It was dark, and certain, and drowned out all his other thoughts like a wave sweeping through him, spreading quiet, stiff terror through his body. ‘He looks like a human, talks like one… but he isn’t. I shouldn’t hang around him.’

‘Right, that’s enough. Hurry up now, some of us have schedules.’ Hermes reached for Marlo, but Marlo got up before he could touch him, wiping himself off. Though… of course, Hermes could have just gone quicker and grabbed him if he had really wanted. he must have been holding himself in check permanently, restraining that terrible speed. Even a brush from a finger going at the speed from earlier would shred him, Marlo realised. Was that why he had been lifted off the floor? To ensure his feet weren’t grated off on the marble? That was another thing. Hermes was strong enough to lift him with one hand, without any apparent strain. These traits, mixed with such apathy… He had to get out of here, Marlo concluded. Fast, preferably. Obviously he couldn’t outrun the guy, but he had said he was the gate-watcher. That meant that there was a place that wasn’t gate, which he wasn’t watching. Ergo, he just had to get there. Hermes seemed to be trying to get him there too. So, collaborating would get him away from Hermes. Going with the flow, his natural talent.He nodded. ‘Ready when you are.’

‘I was ready when you arrived. Earlier, even.’

‘Sorry to keep you waiting?’ Marlo tried. Hermes shook his head.

‘Everyone does.’ He blurred over to a desk and flopped down into a chair. He suddenly had a clipboard in his hand and flicked through it. He spun a pencil around, and said, ‘Cause of death?’

‘Er… Train?’

‘Train how? Choked in one, sucked out the toilet, one fell on you, died in construction?’

‘Got hit by one?’

‘I see. What kind?’

‘Uh… it was blue, I think.’

‘Blue. Great. I mean type, dumbass. Steam, electric, frat boy?’

‘Oh, diesel… I think?’

‘I see. Wait… did I ask you when?’

‘When I died? Uh… I think it was Tuesday the ninth of… July? 2019.’

‘I meant the time exactly. That’s kind of important.’

‘Erm… past four, I know that.’

‘Past four.’ Hermes stopped, or at least, blurred in place, while writing.

‘But… before five?’

‘Well that’s a load of help.’

‘Sorry, I wasn’t really checking the time; I was a little preoccupied.’

‘Whatever, someone will have to deal with that who isn’t me. So, did you off yourself?’

‘Excuse me?’

‘Oh, right, company policy. Do forgive my insensitivity.’ Hermes, not looking very apologetic, kicked his feet onto the desk. The second his blurring legs touched it, it was worn down into sawdust. Marlo leapt back in shock, and blinked to keep it out of his eyes, but Hermes didn’t seem to notice. ‘Did you kill yourself then?’

‘No.’

‘Well then, how’d you manage to find yourself in that situation? Trains are real loud kid. I know you lot are slow, but surely even you slowpokes can get out of their way if you see them coming.’

‘There was a woman and…’ Marlo breathed in some sawdust and started coughing.

‘Hold on.’ Hermes suddenly had a jar in his hand and dropped what looked like a microchip into it. Marlo had just enough time to read ‘Deaths caused by women’ on the label, and the thousands upon thousands of chips inside before it disappeared. ‘That’s number 37284 this year. Just a few more schmucks like you and I’ll be able to buy that new auto coolant refill for my bed. It’ll save me a whole eight microseconds in the mornings, and I’ll finally get to sleep in. Continue.’

‘She was tied to the tracks, and I thought I… had more time to get her out.’ Marlo’s throat was suddenly dry. He could hear the roar of the train in his ears and feel the shaking of the rails below him. He swore he could feel the woman’s frantic, sweaty grip on his leg. Even after it hit him, just thinking about it made him want to curl up into a ball. He’d died. Actually died. He couldn’t… He realised he was shaking, and tried to stop himself, swallowing hard. Okay, maybe his mind wasn’t as over it as he hoped. ‘I got her out but… I didn’t make it.’

‘Yes, well, very noble of you.’ Hermes rolled his eyes.

‘I didn’t even know her name,’ Marlo muttered, wiping his brow. He felt sick again but forced it down. This was not a good time or place for this.

‘Yes, yes, don’t be so smug. I realise you might have been raised believing we all love mindless feats of bravery, but we value more than pure idiocy here, so don’t expect special treatment.’

Marlo closed his eyes and tried to push the rushing mass of metal from his mind. But as he did, he remembered something.

‘DVIN!’ he said suddenly. Hermes’ head jerked up.

‘What’s that?’

‘The train that hit me… it had the logo DVIN on it. Does that… mean anything?’

Hermes showed him the back of the clipboard. It was stamped with the same four thick capital letters, white with a purple and navy-blue outline. ‘Sounds like you got hit by one of our Material Branch vehicles. Apply for reimbursement, see how that goes in a few hundred years. Is that all?’

‘All I remember.’

‘Well, we’ll see all that you remember.’ Hermes was suddenly next to Marlo. He jumped back in shock, but Hermes was coming in with something sharp and metallic, getting closer and closer.

‘What are you doing? Is that…? Oh my god, get away-’

Before Marlo could even take a step back, Hermes stabbed a needle directly into his eye. It was thick, plunged deep, and was the most painful thing Marlo had ever experienced. Spikes of blazing pain ripped through his head, driving every coherent thought out of his mind. He shrieked and flailed, feeling it wiggle as it dug deeper and deeper, before getting so deep he couldn’t feel anything at all.

‘Yeah, yeah.’ Not a single one of Marlo’s swings came even close to Hermes as he shrieked in pain and tried to push away. ‘We both know you can’t feel anything in your brain so quit screaming. Just… there!’

He yanked it out, and Marlo collapsed to the ground. He tried to sob, but that made it hurt even more. The rapid movements of his eye just made the hole that had been carved in it blast wave after wave of burning agony through his body. His head felt like it was exploding, again and again in rapid succession. He wanted to throw up again, and his screeching reached new heights. Dying had been far more pleasant than this. Between his howls, he managed to gasp out:

‘My eye! Oh my God it hurts so much! Why did you-’

‘It’s fixing itself as we speak, so shut up,’ Hermes said from somewhere Marlo couldn’t see. His cries fell into weak whimpers, as he slowly felt the pain recede. It petered out, and he gasped for air, still clutching the violated socket.

‘You can thank Isis for that,’ Hermes said. ‘Never understood why we’re wasting her work on the likes of you but whatever.’

‘Why…’ Marlo wheezed, taking his hand away from his eye to get to his knees, ‘did you do that?!’ He swung for Hermes, not mentally present enough to predict the God simply not being there when his fist went through the air.

‘Please kid. I’ve dealt with Viking Berserkers who died and showed up here still fighting. Your scrawny ass isn’t going to do much.’

‘I thought I asked… for warning…’ Marlo stopped, rubbing his eyes. There was only a phantom ache now, and it didn’t seem to have impacted his vision, but that sensation was going to stick with him for a long time.

‘Maybe you did. I wasn’t listening. Besides, when I give people that they look at me like I’m going to stick a needle in their eye. Apprehension causes the muscles to tense up. Some people come without ‘em to begin with. You were one of the lucky ones who got to keep their eye. Now, let’s see how lucky you are other than that.’

Now he had calmed down, Marlo saw what he was holding. It was not just a needle, though that was a large part of it, sticking out of a ring of white metal. The entire contraption was semi-circular, an arc of white metal attached to a flat surface that had a screen. It looked like a door handle taken off a door, with a phone stuck to the base, and a blood-stained needle taped to the other side.

‘This is a Mortis,’ Hermes said, tapping the side of the strange contraption. ‘It reads your Compos Mentalis.’

‘My…’

‘Your memory, how much of your life you’ve retained mentally as your soul left your brain. You’re pretty coherent, so you’re looking like upper fiftieth, sixtieth, maybe even seventieth percentile.’

‘Wait…’ Hermes had been right. Most of the pain was already fading, and Marlo was able to think about what he was being told. ‘You can forget things? Just… show up with no idea what happened?’

‘Did you think I was asking those questions because I wanted to be your friend?’

‘Are you saying people can show up not knowing who they are?’

‘Most do. You’ve been my quietest customer today. Take the dope I had a few hours ago. Showed up babbling about his daughter, but couldn’t remember who he was, or what had happened to him. Absolutely zilch in his head, save for her, and he’ll only get worse. Was a bastard to work with, I’ll tell you that for nothing. The funny part? Despite not shutting up about her, he couldn’t even remember her name! Hermes snorted again. ‘You apes really are pathetic.’

‘But that’s… oh my God…’ Marlo’s entire body quivered. ‘That’s horrifying.’

‘Why?’ Hermes looked up from the screen and cocked an eyebrow. ‘It didn’t happen to you. You got lucky. Plenty of your consciousness followed your soul. You things can barely remember things back in life, so no wonder you can’t remember much when you pass over here.’

The machine beeped and Hermes looked down. He didn’t say anything for a second. Then he removed that massive hat. Underneath, he was dark skinned, with waves shaping his black hair. His eyes were covered with golden lenses. At first, Marlo thought they were sunglasses. But then he realised there were no frames, no arms, nothing at all anchoring them to his face. They were built into his eye sockets, laid over the eyeballs. The man had no eyelashes, probably so they didn’t push up against them. His eyes were guarded against the world by these pieces of glass he couldn’t take off. Marlo shuddered at the thought. Then he realised something else. The reason he could see this so clearly was because Hermes had stopped blurring.

Hermes reached slowly into his coat and pulled out a strange device. It looked to be carved of dark oak, a small orb. A wooden, almost cartoonish head, oval-shaped with a forehead ending in a green crystal. Two similar green masses were set into the eye sockets. He opened his mouth, and the head did the same, roiling green fog pouring out to dissipate on the marble floor. As Marlo watched in fascination, Hermes said, ‘Hermaphroditus, can you take over for me for the day? Call in a few of your siblings and tell the office I’ve ordered them to release the back-ups.’

Marlo’s blood ran cold. He tried to surreptitiously take a step back, but when he looked behind him, Hermes was there, shooting him an impossible-to-read look before saying, ‘I don’t care if you have friends over, I’m asking you to do something simple, as your father, the man who feeds, clothes and gives you shelter. No? I knew that Babylonian was a bad influence.’ He turned to Marlo. ‘Hold on.’

He disappeared. Marlo’s eyes widened, and he looked around frantically for an exit. This was it, his chance to get away from whatever the hell this creature was. His eyes just settled on a pair of red doors, when they were suddenly flapping closed, and Hermes was back in the room. His arms were drenched in dripping crimson, up to the elbows. As Marlo stared in horror, Hermes lifted the strange, shrunken head back to his ear and said, ‘There. Now you don’t have friends over anymore. Still no? Hmm, I wonder how that nice girl Salamacis is doing these days. We haven’t seen her in so long, perhaps we should have her over for dinner again. I think she’s quite fond of you – no? You’ll come? Alright, good. Swing by the office first. Thanks, love you.’ He snapped the jaw closed with a thumb and turned to Marlo. ‘Sorry. Kids, right? They keep trying to get me to get them some binder thing, and I tell them I’ll do it when they’re not sitting around doing nothing… all I ask is that they give me something back!’

Marlo nodded awkwardly, eyeing that escape. Could he blind him somehow? Stupid question. There wasn’t anything sharp to throw behind him, those lenses were presumably installed to protect his eyes, and even if he did, those legs were metal. They could kick him in half. But he knew had to think of something, and fast. Because, for the first time since he had arrived, Hermes was actually looking at him. This was a lot worse than being ignored. He’d gone from cold, automatic courtesy to a kind of eager politeness, like a cat trying to coax a mouse from a hole. Again, it struck Marlo that this thing in front of him was not a man. It was not a human at all. Which meant it might not be a person. He also hadn’t seen anyone else, since he had arrived. No real people, just this creature wearing the skin of one. Perhaps this carnivorous metaphor he was going with… wasn’t just a metaphor. But panicking wouldn’t help.

‘Uh… what’d the Morty say?’ he asked weakly.

‘Oh, the Mortis,’ Hermes scooped it up from the ground, ‘said that you are a very special person.’ He flipped it around and Marlo saw, with a sinking heart, that the number 100 was splayed across the screen.

‘I know… a lot of people that would love to meet you,’ Hermes said. ‘So… God, it’s stuffy in here. Do you think it’s stuffy? I think it is.’

He mimed fanning himself with his hat as Marlo smiled with his teeth and said, ‘Yeah it’s-’

‘Why don’t we,’ Hermes said, in his ear, suddenly behind him, ‘just… step outside. It’s about time you properly entered Limbo.’

Chapter 3: The Long Road Up

Marlo came to a stop on the other side of the biggest pair of double doors he had ever seen. As his stomach settled, he glanced back over his shoulder, watching them glint, the gold they were made of looking freshly polished and shining like the sun. They were set into a gigantic building, made of white stone, looking like an enormous crypt… or maybe a mausoleum, Marlo could never remember the difference. Hermes met his gaze, and grinned. This was also with only with his teeth, but while Marlo’s smile had been out of fear, this one was… almost hungry. Marlo shuddered and checked around.

He was on a thin strip of land, connected to the building where he had first woken up. Below him was loose gravel, which stung his bare feet, just like the stuff below the train tracks. Up ahead were a series of booths, and tall chained-link fences, lined with barbed wire. It looked like some kind of immigration control, like on a border, except no one was coming in. People were leaving though. A vast queue of men, women and children, walking single file out of the building they all must have appeared in, and towards the checkpoints.

‘Ooh, line looks long today.’ Hermes tutted. ‘That’s a shame, hate to see that. All these good folks, forced to walk so far, so slowly. Luckily, you’re with me, so you don’t have to worry about any of that.’

‘Yay.’ Marlo murmured, not buying a word. His eyes trailed the ranks of people, out past the checkpoint, out to where the ground started to narrow and thin into a triangle, which seemed to be floating on nothing. Craning his neck up further, he followed the snaking, now tiny line all the way up, stretching not just over nothing but leaning on it, resting on the horizon and heading up and up, the tiny strip of land eventually starting to get wider again. Now, Marlo found himself looking directly up at a giant inverted landscape where the sky should have been. He could see entire upside-down cities, throbbing blue and purple with neon lights, barren deserts with sandstorms, sparse grasslands, deep black volcanic lands cracked with tiny red lines of lava, pure white frozen wastelands and even portions of what looked like a great ocean. This was nothing like Earth. It was somewhere entirely new.

‘Takes everyone like that for the first time,’ Hermes said, ‘Welcome to Limbo kid. Don’t worry, you don’t fall off when you get up there. We’re actually the ones upside down right now.’

In the midst of his warring confusion and fear, Marlo noticed that his hair and clothes were indeed falling upwards, though his feet remained firmly planted, same as everyone else’s. He made a note not to jump. This was so, so weird. He was too on edge to properly take in just how strange it was, but he felt like he was in a dream. Only he couldn’t wake up.

‘We’re going… there.’ Hermes pointed up and forward, to a city right in the centre of the far side of the landscape, which was connected to the pathway that led up here to them. The line of people, from this distance harder to see than marching ants, was leading into it. A number of roads, small thin, dark rivers of stone leading to other, similar cities, emerged from the far side of it. ‘That’s Asgard, a lovely city. I’d of course love to take you to my hometown of Olympus, but that’s way over there,’ Hermes wheeled his arm further, pointing behind him, ‘and we don’t have time. It’s imperative we get to Asgard as soon as we can.’

‘Okay…’ Marlo tore his eyes away from the bizarre, alien sight and looked around. The ground just ended some ten or so metres to his right, but he couldn’t see what was past it. The horizon just looked dark, and red. Lightning crackled up and down it. ‘And why is that?’

‘Oh… it’s a surprise.’ Hermes noticed what he was looking at. ‘Oh… you want to go see what’s over there? I mean… I guess it helps.’

He stepped back, and Marlo realised this was the first time he’d let go of him since bringing him outside. He rubbed the arm that had been gripped and walked over. When he got within three metres of it, he saw. The ground really did just stop. The floor simply fell away into more of the same dark red, storm cloud-filled mass, which stretched away as far as the eye could see. Carefully, Marlo inched closer and looked down. More of the same. He looked left and saw that the ground they were on looked impossibly thin, no thicker than a sheet of paper, just floating there in the air, gravel stacked on a tiny sliver in space. Despite that, it held the weight of him, Hermes, these checkpoints, all these people, and this massive building behind him, seemingly with no strain.

If he had ever thought about the afterlife before this, he hadn’t expected it to be normal. But this was too much. He knelt down and put his hands on the gravel. It hurt, so he really wasn’t dreaming. He was stuck here for good. He sighed and chucked a piece over the edge. It sailed down, out of sight, and below there was a crackle of electricity.

‘Not pleasant, is it?’ Hermes asked from his side. Marlo jumped, and Hermes caught him, ‘Woah, careful. Don’t want you going over the edge. There’s things down there much worse than us.’

‘Like what?’

‘Well, somewhere down there is Hell.’

‘Hell? Actual Hell?’

‘Actual yeah. And over there,’ he motioned with his head to the other edge, ‘is Heaven. Just… don’t tell anyone. We don’t want a mass suicide.’

‘What?’ Marlo’s eyes widened. Hermes sighed. It wasn’t very convincing.

‘This is my least favourite part to explain. The sad truth is… neither of them wanted you, so you got sent here. You can’t change that. And trying to… you jump in there; you just die again. Except this time, I won’t be there to welcome you. There will be nowhere to welcome you to. Just… poof. Total obliteration. Souls can’t take it twice, see. Just once destroyed your body, so twice will take the rest of you I’m afraid. You’ll be absolutely, and utterly nothing.’

‘Oh God.’ Marlo paled further.

‘Yeah. A hard concept to swallow, I know. Can’t be easy to be one of you humans.’

‘Yeah.’ They stood there for a second in silence. Then Marlo said, ‘Can you… let go of me?’

‘Certainly.’ Hermes leant in and whispered, ‘Ifyou drop that handful of gravel you’re planning to let go of while I’m carrying your sorry ass, hoping it’ll shred me and let you go. Don’t look so surprised. I’m a God you dumb little shit, you’re not outsmarting me. If you did that, and it did hurt me,which it won’t-’ These words were punctuated by a whimper from Marlo as his arm was twisted viciously. ‘If by some miracle it did get me, then you’d end up paste, going at my speed without my help. Now. Let. Go.’ His grip tightened, and Marlo gritted his teeth. There was a patter of stones falling, and Hermes nodded. ‘Good. Now, since I’ve stopped any notions of you throwing yourself to safety and shown you that your actions do have consequences here, you’re going to do what I tell you, when I tell you, or I’ll drag you face first along this gravel before I deliver you to Asgard. It won’t kill you. I’ve done it to enough people to be an expert. But you’ll never enjoy looking in a mirror again.’

The small part of Marlo not wracked with bone-cracking terror noted that he was needed alive. He nodded, trying and failing not to let his fear show.