Atropos: Afterlife

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Atropos: Afterlife


[A/N 1: This is a crossover between A Darker Path (a fanfiction written by me and based on Worm, by John C McCrae) and For Whom the Belle Tolls, by Jaysea Lynn. I make no claim of ownership on either property.]

A/N 2: So, I've been watching a bunch of skits on YouTube here, and I've read the associated novel as mentioned above (yes, it's a romance novel. No, it's not all about the sex) and I was inspired to write this crossover of what happens when Atropos dies and ends up in the afterlife.]

[A/N 3: This one-shot beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.

[A/N 4: The first five lines are directly paraphrased from the last five lines of A Darker Path.]



Taylor felt her heartbeat slow and stop, and then Ending was gathering her in his arms.

LET'S GO.

Where to?

ETERNITY AWAITS.

And she went.

***

​

Beleth, Prince of Hell, looked up and frowned. The surface of his coffee hadn't so much as rippled, but he'd felt an odd vibration all the same. Something was very wrong. The last time he'd felt anything like this was … the last incursion from another universe.

His phone was in his hand in an instant. Sensing his urgency, it speed-dialled for him. "Lily," he said, trying to keep calm, even as he darted over to where his sword hung in its sheath on the wall. "Did you feel that? Is everything okay?"

"Yes, love. I felt that too. Looks like there's been an unexpected arrival at the Front Deathk." She sounded wary but not alarmed. "I can't hear any fighting. I'm just heading up to see what's going on, and if it's one for us."

He knew it would be useless to tell her to stay back, so instead he redoubled his pace. "Be careful. I'm on the way up to the Lobby now."

"I will. Everyone's on guard right now, and I've got my sword."

He still wasn't happy about it, but the last time she'd faced an incoming danger with that sword in her hand, she'd taken the creature's head clean off. The sword was as sharp as Hephaestus could make it, and she was training with the best warriors in the afterlife. But he still hit Gregorith's number as he dived into the elevator.

The demon lord of Level Nine answered immediately. "Is this about that disturbance a minute ago?"

"It is." Bel eyed the scrolling floor numbers, seriously wondering if he could cut a hole in the roof of the elevator and get there faster that way. He crisply repeated what Lily had told him, then added, "I'm on my way up right now."

Greg muttered a curse word that caused the screen of Bel's phone to crack. "I'll grab a few guys and meet you up there. Cover the situation until you arrive."

That made him feel a little better, but not much.

***
​

On the one hand, Taylor was anything but ignorant about her situation. She knew very well she'd just died; between her long experience with Ending and the actual sensation of her heartbeat stopping, that part had been pretty well a no-brainer. On the other hand, though … she hadn't expected this.

Nor had she expected to be so young. Looking down, she examined her hands. Unlined, with none of the creaky joints she'd gotten used to over the years. It appeared being dead had some unexpected benefits.

Raising her head, she stared at the arched vault of the ceiling above her. Creatures—and sometimes people—with wings were flying here and there on errands of their own. Some of the wings were feathery and others leathery; oddly enough, nobody seemed to have an issue with one another. In fact, if not for the overhead traffic, she would've described the atmosphere as being distinctly bureaucratic.

"And this is really the afterlife?" She adjusted her glasses, which struck her as another oddity. If she was dead, why did she still need glasses? "Sorry, I'm not arguing, just a little confused."

"That's us, ma'am." The lady speaking to her—the nameplate on her desk read SHANNA—had the same brisk, slightly harassed air of every reception desk clerk Taylor had ever met. "Now, it says in your preliminary soul file that you were raised in the Christian faith but didn't attend church as an adult. Do you wish to be Judged with that faith in mind, or do you have another religion you'd rather use? If none of them appeal to you, you can always go atheist."

For a brief moment, Taylor was tempted to mention the Followers of Our Lady in Darkness, but common sense prevailed. Besides, she'd done her level best to make sure Emma's cult never became a religion. Being worshipped was something she could do without forever, thank you very much. "No, Christianity will do." She paused as the implications caught up with her. "Wait, all the religions are here?"

"Yes, ma'am. Now if you could just close your eyes and clear your mind for a moment, please?"

Obediently, Taylor let her eyes drift shut. Clearing her mind was more difficult—there was so much she wanted to think about right now—but she managed it. Deep within her, there was a soundless gonnnggggg, and her eyes jerked open again. "What was that?"

"That was your Judgement, ma'am." Shanna typed briefly on her keyboard. "That seems to be all in order. I'll just arrange for a demon to—"

"Oh, hi." The new speaker was a tall redheaded woman wearing a Metallica t-shirt and jeans, with a very authentic-looking sword belted to her hip. Taylor was reminded of Emma, but far more confident and a lot fitter. "You'd be our new arrival, then? Oh, sorry, Shanna. Didn't mean to talk over you just then."

Shanna looked around and smiled. "Lily, good to see you. Yes, Taylor here is one of yours. I was about to arrange an escort, but did you want to take her down instead?"

Lily looked Taylor over thoughtfully. "Sure thing. I just came to check out what was going on." She held out her hand. "I'm Lily; I run the Hellp Desk. Happy to meet you." Lurking behind her words was the clear implication that if Taylor chose to be difficult, the happiness would not be mutual. Also, the word 'hellp' seemed to be strangely drawn out.

Taylor had no intention of being difficult, so she shook Lily's hand. "Nice to be here … I guess. You'll be taking me down to Hell? They said something about one of the therapy levels?"

One moment, Lily's hand was empty; the next, a featureless black object appeared in it. About the size of a sheet of foolscap but nearly an inch thick, it reminded Taylor of Grue's shadow; light just fell into it. Lily touched it, and her eyebrows rose. "Yeah, that's what this says. Whoa. You are definitely not one of our usuals. Come on, I'll introduce you to the guys and we'll get you where you need to go."

"Sure, okay." Taylor glanced back at Shanna. "Bye. Thanks for everything."

"No problem, ma'am." Even as she spoke, Shanna was focusing past Taylor to the next person in line. "Hi, welcome to the Afterlife. Yes, you're dead. Now, if you can …"

Taylor lost the rest of what she was saying as she followed Lily away from the desk; or rather, the Front Deathk, as the whimsical sign proclaimed. Someone in this place, she privately decided, had the same sense of humour as her father. "Excuse me if this comes across as rude, but you don't really fit my mental image of someone who'd be working in Hell. Or is this just a shape you're wearing so you don't freak everyone out? Because you don't have to worry on my behalf. I'm good on that score."

Lily laughed out loud at that. "No, hon. This is me. I live topside in my own personal Paradise. I just work downstairs to help the guys out and keep things running smoothly."

Up ahead, an imposing archway was set into the wall, distinctly Gothic in style, much more in line with Taylor's preconceived notions; a prominent sign over the arch merely confirmed that this way lay Hell. Just beyond the archway was a broad staircase leading down to a lower level.

Yeah, that tracks, Taylor decided, but she still had questions. "Sounds legitimate. Um, you have computers in the afterlife? Also, what's that thing you've got there? And why am I a kid again? I was in my nineties when I passed."

Lily grinned. "Well for the first part, we've had engineers coming in ever since there were engineers. You think they wouldn't upgrade the place as soon as they got the chance?" She hefted the black object. "This is your soul file. They normally look more … well, papery, but the outward colour reflects what you've done with your life. And damn girl, you've been busy. As for the de-ageing, I'm sure there's a reason in your file somewhere."

Passing through the archway, they started down the stairs; at the bottom was a tremendous gateway, through which Taylor could see a vast cavern. In contrast to the massive stone blocks of the edifice above and behind them, the walls on either side and the cavern in front were composed of rough-dressed grey-black stone shot through with reddish glowing lines. This gave the ambient light a distinctly orange tinge, as though illuminated by hidden flames. It was noticeably warmer here, and there was the faintest hint of brimstone in the air.

As they reached the bottom of the stairs and passed between the titanic gates, Taylor thought she could hear distant screams, although none of them were coming from the people in front of her. Across the floor of the enormous chamber stood a number of desks, each with people lined up in front of them, attended by creatures who were humanoid but definitely not human. Standing up to seven feet tall, they all sported horns in a variety of patterns and an equally wide range of skin tones, covering the entire visible spectrum. Some had wings, some tails, a few both. Given the current context, she provisionally assigned them the label of 'demon' until she got more information.

Interestingly enough, while they carried spears and clubs, they didn't seem to be using them in a blatantly aggressive fashion; though she wouldn't have bet that they couldn't. Even more interestingly, the demons appeared to be away from their posts, standing in a defensive posture before the people in the lines.

And they were all looking at her.

At Taylor.

"Uh … Lily?" Taylor glanced down at herself to make sure she wasn't wearing the costume. This was still not the case; her hoodie was entirely unremarkable. "What's going on? Are they marking me down for special attention?" Whatever happened, she decided, she'd deal with it as it came. Wouldn't be the first time.

"Ha, no." Lily grinned and shook her head. "Your arrival shook the place up a little, probably because you're from an entirely different universe. That kind of thing puts everyone on edge. The demons won't hurt you; big pussycats, really." Raising her arm, she waved her hand from side to side. "It's alright, guys!" she called out, her voice carrying farther than it should have in the immense cavern. "She's fine!"

Taylor saw the wave of relaxation as the demons—called it—lowered their spears and went back to their desks. "Huh, wow. They really pay attention to what you say."

Lily shrugged, unconcerned. "They trust me to get it right." She tapped the sword at her waist. "Besides, this used to belong to Lucifer. It will slice through anything I hit with it."

Taylor eyed Lily carefully. She didn't seem delusional, and the demons had definitely taken her at her word. Also, she didn't want to argue with someone who had apparently taken Lucifer's sword. "Okay, then. I'll keep that in mind." She paused, because she'd always been inclined to get the entire story about something. "So, if you hit me with it … well, I'm already dead, so would I die for good, or just be horribly inconvenienced?"

"Oh, souls regenerate," Lily explained blithely. "You can't actually die here, much as any of the idiots down on Level Nine might wish they could. So if I cut your arm off, it would eventually grow back. Key word: eventually."

"Ah." Taylor noticed something else as they rounded the periphery of the crowd. The demons near them were doing their jobs, speaking to the people coming up to them. Their spears seemed to be more in use as pointers than torture devices, which heartened Taylor somewhat.

However, the nearest demons were still sneaking side-glances at her. And unlike human guys planning something unpleasant for a lone woman, there were no sly smiles passing between them. Instead, they looked downright worried.

Lily seemed to be fairly forthcoming about what was going on in Hell, so Taylor ventured another question. "So, those demons there … um …" She paused, unsure as to how to phrase it.

"Yes?" Lily gave her a perceptive glance. "I'm literally here to answer your questions. Ask away."

Taylor glanced over at the demons again. They were still peering surreptitiously at her, no happier than they were before. "They aren't pleased I'm here. Like, at all. What's going on with that?"

Lily looked over as well; immediately, the demons turned away. She frowned. "I have no idea, but I'm sure as here about to find out. You keep going; the Hellp Desk is just over there."

Taylor looked in the direction her guide was pointing. There was indeed a desk there, appearing to have been extruded straight out of the rough, rocky wall. Belying its origins, it was smoothly polished … and on the front, picked out in the glowing red rock, were the words: 'HELLP DESK'. Below them was a motto, easily understood: 'Fuck Around and Find Out'.

Okay, so I wasn't mishearing. She really was stretching the 'l' when she said it. Pleased to have that minor mystery solved, Taylor took the time to appreciate the second part. For eighty years, she'd embodied the 'find out' half of that saying, and she still supported it wholeheartedly.

As she neared the desk, she took note of the two young women behind it. The brunette on the left wore a red hoodie, while the shorter blonde to the right sported a shark onesie. Taylor was more than a little impressed by the sheer chutzpah involved in wearing that outfit; the level of 'do not fuck with me' was off the scale.

And then four demons stepped into her path. Three of them, holding bladed weapons, lined up directly in front of the desk while the fourth moved forward to block her path. His skin was a deep red—uncomfortably close to the colour of fresh blood—and he wore a black form-fitting outfit. The polearm he held somehow managed to look a whole lot more dangerous than Armsmaster's halberd. His glare was blatantly hostile, matching the tone of his voice. "Not one step closer. State your business."

"Greg?" called the girl in the hoodie. "What's going on here?"

Greg? Really? Was not expecting that.

'Greg' never turned his eyes away from Taylor. "I'm sorry, Penny, but I am not letting her get close to you until I find that out for myself. She's got the strongest death aura I've ever seen, and you don't end up with that kind of thing by accident."

That answered another question. So that's why they're all staring at me. Great.

"Well, how do you get it?" asked the girl in the shark onesie. "Genocide a whole country? I know we're not supposed to judge by appearances, but she doesn't really look the type."

"There are two ways." The polearm was rock-steady in Greg's hands. "Either be the direct cause of death for over a million people …"

Taylor raised her finger and cleared her throat. "I didn't kill that many. Hundred and fifty, maybe two hundred tops." She'd stopped keeping track after Scion; some years there'd been no need at all to kill anyone. A whisper in the ear in the middle of the night had generally done the trick.

"One hundred and seventy-eight," reported Shark Onesie, her hand on the soul file. "And wow, damn. You've been doing everything I've wanted to do since I got here and grew up."

The other girl—Penny—blinked and looked cautiously at the file. "Okayyyy. I know you, Sharkie. I've seen what you do to the people who abuse foster kids. Now I'm kind of worried." Reaching out, she gingerly picked it up. "And why is it so … oh. Oh." She focused on Taylor, shock written across her features. "Where the hell did you come from?"

"Pun intended!" Sharkie sang out gleefully.

Penny smiled and shook her head, then cleared her throat. "She's right, Greg. A thoroughly impressive body count, but no genocide and nowhere near a million. So what's the other way?"

"Possession by a death spirit." Greg still hadn't taken his eyes off Taylor. "Either current, or ongoing for years. Decades." He raised his eyebrows interrogatively. "And you aren't old enough for that. So explain. In detail."

Taylor took a deep breath. "How would I know that? I was ninety-five when I passed." She paused to think about it. "Wait, wouldn't that information in be my soul file? And while we're talking about that, does it explain why I look like a kid again? Also, on a totally different subject, can I just say that I love the sign on the front of the desk? It really says it all."

She was already sure she knew where the aura came from; Ending might not strictly count as a 'death spirit', but he certainly would've ticked most of the boxes.

"Well, you appreciate a good pun," Sharkie said with an approving nod. "I like you already. And that's on top of getting those kids into a good foster home."

"Thanks." Taylor shrugged. "As for where I'm from, have you ever heard of Earth Bet? I was told it's a different universe than the one everyone else comes from."

"Which explains the little reality-quake when you arrived." Sharkie traded finger-guns with Penny, then turned back to Taylor. "So, I'm just a little confused. You're not here to add a little idiocy into our lives. From what I saw in your file, you never targeted innocents. And you actually saved quite a few. Also, you killed a ton of bad guys, saving even more innocents."

Taylor frowned. She already knew this part. "Not to be rude, but did you have a point you wanted to make?"

Penny nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I'm wondering that too. Where are you going with this, Sharkie?"

Sharkie spread her hands, looking from Taylor to Penny and back again. "Why are you even going to Hell? That's what I want to know. Why is the universe punishing you for what you did?"

***
​

Bel surged from the elevator, ready to draw steel and lay waste if Lily was in the least bit endangered. He unfurled his wings as he dashed out of the corridor. The moment he had the clearance, he took to the air.

Please be alright.

As soon as he had enough altitude, he banked around the wall that blocked off half the Lobby and scanned the area with anxious eyes. Among the multitudes below, three people stood out to him. Two brought his heart ease, but the other ratcheted his anxiety up again.

The first was Lily, halfway across the floor and heading for the Hellp Desk. Meanwhile, the second and third stood together: Greg and a tall slender brunette teenager.

The girl was surrounded by the most intense death aura Bel had ever seen, and Greg and three other demons were holding her back a few yards from the Desk.

Okay, looks like he's got that under control. Keeping half an eye on the confrontation at the Desk, Bel swooped down to land next to Lily. "I'm glad you're okay. What's happening? And why did we let her get this far in?"

"Well, hello to you too, sweetheart." Lily gave him an eyebrow-raise that reminded him exactly why he married her. "Yes, my day's going wonderfully. How about yours?"

He took a breath to steady himself. "My day's good. Better now that I know you're alright. Are you aware that girl has …" He paused, realising for the first time that demons could see some things that souls could not. Such as auras.

"A really strong death aura?" She nodded as he blinked in surprise. "Yeah, I stopped and asked one of the guys why they were staring at her. She's been no problem at all. No arguments, none of the usual 'there's been a mistake, I'm in the wrong place' stupidity we normally have to deal with. If anything, she seems … resigned."

"Resigned or otherwise, I need to find out what's going on with her." He started forward at a determined pace.

She quickly caught up. "Just don't fly off the handle, okay? Make sure you get the whole story. There's more to Taylor than meets the eye."

"That describes nearly everyone down here." But Lily had seen Taylor's soul file, and he would readily admit that she was more insightful than he was (especially where it came to souls) so he consciously moderated his attitude. "Okay, you do the talking."

As they drew closer, Bel noted that Penny and Sharkie didn't seem to be fazed by the new soul; in fact, Sharkie looked downright impressed. He had no idea what was going on there, but his adoptive daughter had good instincts for danger.

The newcomer—Taylor—was speaking as Bel got within earshot. "That bit's easy. I killed a lot of people. I mean, a lot. It's in my file. So I'm not really surprised that I'd end up here."

Despite Lily's insistence on giving her the benefit of the doubt, Bel tensed. Serial killer. I hate serial killers. He knew Greg gave people like that 'special' treatment.

"But they were bad people," Sharkie said earnestly, surprising Bel more than a little. "You said so yourself. You were making the world a better place."

"More my home city than the world, just to be honest here." The girl chuckled in the most self-aware manner Bel had ever heard. "I made my city into a nice, safe, prosperous place to live because I wanted to live somewhere nice, safe, and prosperous. The fact that I couldn't do that without improving my corner of the country—and, to a smaller extent, the rest of the world—is good, but doesn't make me any less selfish. On the other hand, a whole bunch of people died because I specifically chose to kill them, and I never felt an instant of remorse doing it. So yeah, Hell makes sense."

Penny spread her hands. "But your soul file says you literally saved the world. You should be proud of that, at least."

"That was a team effort," Taylor countered. "But even if it wasn't, it's not like I was trying to be a hero. When the welfare of my city was at stake, I wasn't about to pull any punches. Doesn't make me a good person, just the one who got it done."

Lily cleared her throat. "If I can just cut in here? Taylor, I want you to meet my husband Bel. Bel, Greg, this is Taylor."

Taylor's lack of reaction to seeing a second seven-foot demon towering over her—she was tall, but not that tall—was interesting. Specifically, she didn't seem in the least bit intimidated. It was almost as though she was used to the experience. "Hi, Bel," she said with a cautious smile, holding her hand out for Bel to shake. "Nice to meet you. I suspect I'm going to be working closely with one of you guys to fix what's wrong with me."

Bel held back for the moment. He didn't know that whatever was causing the death aura was contagious by touch, but it was best not to take chances until he had more information.

"If whatever it is can be fixed," he said. It was considered unwise for a Prince of Hell to commit himself to a vague promise like that, especially where potential death spirits were involved. Or massive genocide. If her sins had seen her sentenced to Level Nine, there would be little chance of changing her nature for the better.

Lily was quick to intercede. "That's why she's going to Level Two. Therapy's all she needs." She addressed Taylor again. "Once you let yourself feel all that guilt, you're going to need every bit of it."

Bel took in Taylor's death aura again, frowning in puzzlement. Too much about the skinny teenager just wasn't adding up. "You killed how many people, and you're only going to Level Two? What am I missing?"

"Oh, dozens and dozens," Sharkie added helpfully. "Nearly two hundred, according to her file. It's very impressive. And very creative."

"If it's only two hundred, what's with that aura?" added Greg, calming down now that Bel and Lily were on site. "You're not some kind of depowered deity … are you?" He paused and tilted his head slightly. "Why are you smiling? Did I say something funny?"

"Not really, Greg …" Taylor's lips quirked in another smile. "Sorry, I knew someone called Greg back when I was alive. He'd think this was so cool. Talking about deities: would I be able to meet them sometime? Say … Atropos?"

"Oh, she's around. Every deity is." Bel was getting more and more lost by the second. "Why?"

Taylor shrugged and offered a sheepish smile. "I think I owe her an apology, once I get the chance. I've kind of been using her name for the last eighty years or so. There was even a cult, though thankfully I managed to keep them from outright worshipping me. So glad I don't have to worry about that anymore."

Penny cleared her throat. "So, about the aura thing, she was dropped off at the Front Deathk by their version of a death entity. Apparently, she's been sharing headspace with it for the last eighty years. She comes from a … um …" She paused. "Lily, I think you can explain it better than me. I can't say it without laughing."

Lily grinned and took over. "Sure thing, hon. Guys, Taylor comes from a—get this—a superhero world. They literally have flying people wearing bright spandex." She spread her hands. "Short version: despite the powers—or maybe because of them—it was apparently a corrupt shithole. So she killed a bunch of people who were invested in keeping it that way, and now it's a lot nicer."

Several pieces were dropping into place, but Bel still had questions. "Was your power immortality?" He paused. "Wait, no, that doesn't make sense."

Taylor shook her head. "No. Ending showed me how to kill anything or anyone that needed to die." She looked down at her hands. "Still not sure why I'm a kid again, though."

"I can answer that." Penny held up Taylor's soul file. It was nearly an inch thick, and solid black from side to side. Light just seemed to fall into it. "Says here that this 'Ending' entity reset your outward age to about fifteen. Apparently your mental development was entirely changed by its presence, so it reverted you to how you were before you met it."

Greg turned and stared at the soul file, eyebrows rising. "That's an interesting appearance for a file. Mind if I have a look, Taylor?"

For a moment, it seemed as though Taylor hadn't realised he was addressing her. Then she blinked and nodded. "Oh. Uh, sure, I guess. I'm just a little surprised you asked. Every other time I've been in this kind of situation, people just assumed they had the right to look at my paperwork."

Lily smiled warmly. "We're very big on consent here. 'No' is a complete sentence. After all, the demons were the first to say it to God."

"Damn right." Greg slung the polearm across his back and held out his hand; the file appeared in it. However, when he touched the file, his eyes went blank.

Bel peered at him, concerned. Was it a death curse after all? "Greg? Hey, Hell to Greg. Snap out of it." Reaching out, he slapped his friend lightly upside the head.

"Oh. Right. Yeah." Greg blinked a couple of times, then focused again and stared at Taylor. "You did all this? Burned a pyrokinetic to death, using some kind of crazy acid? Stuck a sword through a white supremacist's head? Smeared a drug dealer over two hundred yards of asphalt? Talked someone into ending himself? Chopped a mass murderer's head off with his subordinate's axe?"

"Three murderers, same axe, but yeah." Taylor grimaced, flexing her hands uncomfortably. "I think it's starting to get to me now. I can still remember why I felt all that killing was necessary, and it kind of was, but now I'm not feeling so great about doing it."

"It's okay, hon." Lily stepped forward and wrapped Taylor up in a hug. "We'll get you settled in on Level Two just as soon as we can, alright?"

Taylor leaned into her shoulder, and Bel was pretty sure he heard her sniffle. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

"And I'll visit you!" Sharkie added brightly. "I'll bring snacks."

Taylor smiled damply. "Thanks. Wish I'd had friends like you, back in the day."

Greg, his hostility now entirely gone, cleared his throat and held up the file. "So, uh, may I borrow this for a bit? Maybe share bits and pieces with the guys on Level Nine?"

Penny frowned at him. "You did hear how she's only going to Level Two, right?"

"Oh, yeah. This isn't about her." Greg tapped the file. "I just want to show it to them. If that's okay, Taylor?"

Taylor waved one hand vaguely. "Sure, but can I ask why?"

Greg grinned savagely; Bel had never seen him show so many teeth before. "Inspiration."