Raindrops.

Cold Raindrops.

They fall down from a cloudy, black sky, covering the desert ground with shadow and tears. The wind manipulates the drops, chilling them until they feel like pricks of ice. Such is the sensation poured on the flesh of the new arrivals, the lot of them lying sprawled on that once-dry sand...three men, two women, and a teenage girl.

Around them, not much could be seen. The black clouds, as well as the sand, seemed to stretch to the very end of the horizons, save for a few distant sights. In one direction stood a solitary tower of mortar, barely standing on its foundation, bearing the marks of ruin. Still, it looked like possible shelter from the pelting rain. In the opposite direction, much further away, one could make out the presence of a peculiar gate of metal...peculiar because there seemed nothing except more deserted land beyond it, as though whatever used the gate as its door had vanished from the face of the earth. A creepy sight, indeed.

But the last sight was the creepiest of all...a lone, wispy little girl, floating here and there...not seeming to care about anything...((This is Blue's Apparition Character, since no one starts as an apparition from the outset, so the girl would've been in the afterlife for some period of time))

Shana woke up, expecting lights shining or fires burning her. She sat up slowly, and found neither, but rather found a bleak, depressing desert landscape. She felt the cold raindrops, stinging her skin. Was this hell? It didn't seem like it, but it wasn't any heaven either. Maybe she was in Limbo, to be judged? She could see no judges here, only a few other people, and something that looked an awful lot like what most people would describe as ghosts. Was this what came after death? Just an eternity of standing around in the desert? Well, she could deal with that, as long as her task had been complete.

She looked herself up and down as best she could. She was still in the clothes that the institution had given her, the gown and straightjacket, and her hair was still as minorly ratty as it had been when she was alive, and after some examination, all her scars were still there, all the red circles from where they'd put the electrodes. But there was no longer blood erupting from her wrists, so she must, she must have been dead. Which meant...which meant that she was alone now, right? Yes, she must be alone now! She smiled happily, and got up and spun around, as a giddy small child would. I am alone! She thought, but then her smile suddenly disappeared, an expression of outright terror replacing it immediately as her own mind corrected herself.


I'm still here, Shana... It was her. No! It couldn't be! Shana was dead now, so it couldn't be...

It's me. The voice mocked, giggling mercilously as Shana fell back to her knees, tears forming in her eyes as her hands closed over her ears.

"No...no no no...." She whimpered softly, but the laughing only got louder.

You really thought you'd get rid of me? You really thought I'd go away? Honestly, Shana, you know I love talking to you too much to disappear that easily.

"Please....please go away...please please please...."

What, you don't WANT me to talk to you? You really want to be all alone? Because you know no one else would talk to you. Why would they want to talk to someone like YOU? You're just a stupid little freak. Just a freak.

"But I killed myself...I killed you...You were supposed to go away!"

Well, I guess I didn't. I suppose you'll just have to deal with me for eternity now...

Shana considered this for a fraction of a moment, then tilted her head back and let loose a tortured scream.

If the bullet had missed his heart, it had not been by much. Immediately after the incredible explosion of sound signifying the firing of a gun, Tristan Reese knew that he would die, and probably within mere miniutes. The thought was oddly well received into Tristan's psyche, considering that the thought of death was very unsettling to most. In Tristan's case, however, it simplified matters.

The unkempt, viscous looking man in front of Tristan held the smoking gun without remorse. Such was the way in which he commited countless attrocities against the people of this gang-infested town. Equally remorseless was his plan to establish a new "hide-out" in an old building, abandoned except for the woman who ran a makeshift orphanage there, forced into poverty by the helpless and floundering city council. The gang leader cared not at all for the innocent lives he would have to end in order to have a more convenient headquarters for his crime. When the conflict seemed to take an inevitable turn towards violence, passing Tristan had no choice but to come to the aid of the helpless children. That was his job; he was a teacher.

So the gang leader shot him. As the life ebbed out of Tristan, he used all his remaining strength to lunge himself onto his murderer, slowing him down enough for the children to escape, so he hoped to God.

"Looks like... I'm it today, you bastard. It's far too late in the day to kill anyone else. It's not to late, you know. For me maybe, but for you.... You can still do something... with your... life."

So the final breath left Tristan's body. He hoped for the boy's salvation, but he soon found he had more pressing matters to attend to. As cold rain parrodied the hot blood that, astoundingly, was no longer seeping from his wound, Tristan was revived by the shock. Was he still alive? No, this place was far from the world he had left. So it was Heaven? Surely not, the bleak landscape ruined any chance of Paradise. It couldn't be Hell either, for it was not a wholly unpleasant place. Tristan had never seriously practiced any religion, and was incredibly confused as to where he could be. He found it unlike anything he was ever taught to expect at the end of one's life.

Another of the world's inhabitants, seemingly as new to it as he, was mumbling to herself. She sounded like a tortured soul. Was he a tortured soul? If so, this must be Hell. But no, he didn't think he was tortured, and he would certainly be the first to know if he was. Tristan made a fist. Did everything in Death have to be just as confusing and senseless as in Life? He sighed. He would have to find others in this world. The people around him were a start, but surely, if all the dead came here, there were settlements somewhere? It was decided. Just then, however, a blood-curlding scream came from the girl with inner demons. It seemed as if they wanted out, and in this place, that could very well be possible. She was under no physical stress he could discern, it was certainly her own demons, clawing at her soul. Tristan gritted his teeth. If this was not paradise eternal, there was certainly evil to overcome. Very well, he would begin with this girl.

He put his hand on her shoulder. "What's the matter?"

Robert stood stiffly at the edge of the metal platform, his knees knocking. The ropes were tied, and the same seemed so for his inards. A gust of wind brushed past Rob's tense body, throwing him the slightest bit off balance. Immediatly, a wave of fear drowned all other thoughts swimming within his brain. He felt compelled to jump, yet also to retreat down the tower.
His immense grip around the bars next to him was not enough to subdue his powerful emotions. It seemed nothing would settle him now, nothing but getting the action over with.
The faint cheers of his friends whispering within his eardrums, Robert leapt into the air. The voices were blocked by the loud swoosh of the wind, and he suddenly felt his stomach being tugged down to his heels.
He hollered in a panic as he whipped sideways and felt his body straighten as the rope began to stretch. The pushing of the wind stopped for the slightest moment, as he heard the snap of the rubber cord above him. The sound itself could simply break his spine, of course, so could the impact that followed.
Rob knew there was nothing left for him, and waited anxiously for what would come next after his shortened journey within this earth. He felt his head tap the ground, and felt the blankness follow it.
It didn't occur to him that he had died. He would wake up any moment in a cold sweat, his alarm clock buzzing gently.
Yet he didn't wake up. He didn't burst into his moment of heavy gasps.

Only blankness.

Cold. Cold and wet as the icy tears that ran down her face. She hurt. She hurt deep down where she had never hurt before. The pain the unreasonable un forgiving pain.. It had not left her. She wanted to deny it. It wasn't her. The pain wasn't her. She wasn't there. She wasn't anywhere. And as she opened her eyes to the sky just as unforgiving as the pain.. It became true. Her chin resting in the dirt.. her body covered in rags. She was numb. Numb to it all. She just wanted it to all go away. Even nowhere was somewhere.. Her eyes then took in the others, and she curled into a ball not moving not making a sound trying to become where she was.

When the hand landed on her shoulder, the twenty-three year old had been whimpering, fresh tears of desperation as she whimpered, words making their way through her speech.

"Go away...please go away!" She held her head, sobbing. She'd gone through all that pain, all that suffering, and for what? Heidi was still there, still lurking. And now, it wasn't just for a lifetime. Now it was eternity. In her head, what Christian thoughts she had left were screaming "My God, my god, oh why have you forsaken me?" And now it wouldn't end, would it?

She felt now the touch of the hand on her shoulder, and flinched away from it violently, turning herself so that she faced the owner of the hand, and crawled backwards and away a good six feet before stopping, her eyes begging for someone, anyone, to take the voice away.

"Make her go away...please make her go away..."

Why would they want ME to go away? You're the freak. They just want you to go away so that I can have a body of my own. Like with Frankie. Remember Frankie?

"No...no no!! Stop it!"

You don't? Well, I do. That little twerp would scream so loudly when I-

"Stop it! Leave me alone!" Shana clutched at her ears even more, bending herself down so that she was sobbing hysterically into the sand, her nose only inches away from the ground beneath her.

And they all thought it was you. It WAS your hands that the blood was on, wasn't it? The cold, merciless giggle returned, echoing in Shana's thoughts, but she knew she couldn't do anything about it. She'd tried for years before. Instead, she went to her last resort, which was hoping that she could choke on her own tears and die again. Anything was better than this. Bring hellfire and brimstone, but make her go away!

Even in the cold and the rain Meta did not seem to become upset or frustrated. Even the heavy gray robes, almost the exact color of the melancholy sky above, that he wore seemed to repel the icey moisture as he walked from the direction of the ruined tower. He approaced within speaking distance from the group and rested both of his hands on the gnarled wooden staff, observing. His eyes, sunken deep within his face, surveyed each of the new arrivals carefully and slowly. As his usual style was he would not intrude, and he would not speak until he was spoken to. He raised a hand up from his staff and pushed strangs of long grey hair that fell over his shoulders back behind the hood of his robes and frouned in sympathy at the tortued ones before him. "Poor souls.. they feel robbed of the peace death was soposed to have brought them," he muttered to himself. His left hand dissapeared within the inside of his robes and he produced from the inside a heavy cloak, the same color of the sky, his hair, his robes, and the general mood of the group. With a slow grace of movement that was rare to those who seemed his age he placed the cloak around the girl who barely wore any more than simple rags that covered even less when soaked with the moisture. A pale while hand with long and slender fingers patted the back of the girl after the cloak was placed opon her and he rose again, waiting and observing.

((I started posting before I saw Fezzod's post, so I kinda tacked him on at the end. Maybe Hokage should reply in between? Tell me if I should change somethin'.))

Tristan was taken aback at the girl's revulsion towards him. It tugged at his heart that he could invoke such a negative reaction out of someone, he, who'se life had become dedicated to helping the unfortunate such as this girl apparently was. He let his better judgement take hold though. They knew nothing about this place, and had to find people, any people, any sort of civilization. He turned to the recently revived young man next to him, who looked, if a bit shaken (who wouldn't be? Tristan seemed not to be, but perhaps he was simply in shock at the moment), still sane enough to be helpful.

"Please tell me you're all there? Or at least mostly? We need to find a settlement or someting of the sort, or we'll end up starving to dea... well, we'll end up starving. I need your help; I need all the help I can get. We all do.... So, can I count on you?"

Before the young man gave an answer, Tristan noticed a figure coming from the direction of the tower. Speak of the devil.... Tristan thought, but caught himself. This gentlemanly sage didn't seem likely to be the harbringer of doom for the group, but a friendly hand extending from the harsh landscape to greet them. Tristan's worry was completely washed when he witnessed the old man's kindness to one of the recently revived arrivals, covering her ratty clothing and with it, it seemed, her shame. Tristan's fear of the unknown to come was somewhat placated simply by the elderly man's presence, rediculous though it seemed. In any case, Tristan felt... no, he knew that he could be trusted.

"Sir, I beleive I can speak for the group when I introduce us as a poor band of lost souls. You seem confident about this place; can you help us?"

The final plea was unspecific; Tristan was even confused by what he might mean by it. But the old man seemed to know. His eyes told him that he understood quite well the oblivion that Tristan was feeling, that uncertainty of what is to come, and knowing that, whatever it is, it is to be so forevermore.

She began shivering violently as the cloak descended upon her and flinched as she was touched. She moaned at the weight upon her body. The monster.. the monster had weighed heavily upon her and his touch had been like venom. She curled further into herself to escape the warmth of it. Heat was wretched. His hot breath the warm sweaty feeling of him.. poison. She squirmed and cried out flinging off the cloak despite the kindness it had meant to carry.
"Mommy!" She whimpered scampering away from it. Then, settling in to a sitting position, she wrapped her arms around her legs and put her head on her knees. She began rocking back and forth still whimpering.

((SO sorry I haven't posted. I didn't even realize this was starting.))

Cat, an older woman of 32 still lay unconscience on the desert ground in the midst of the group of new arrivals. It seemed her soul wasn't quite ready to be in that place. In her mind...or...well...she didn't have a mind any more, did she? In her mind, she was still struggeling for life. Still desperatly trying to cling to it, despite the harsh reality that her body was not suitable for any soul to live in any longer.

Still she saw the headlights careening toward her, she saw her 8 year old son's big brown eyes widen in terror. David. He was all that matter. He was the only reason her life was worthwhile. He was all she had, all she cared about. He WAS her heart and soul. Cat knew he would die if she didn't do something. So, she harshly, grabbed her son, then almost violently shoved him to the side and down to the pavement f the street. She heard her son cry out as he landed on the street. But then her entire world lit up brighter then the sun as the headlights of the car overtook her pale face. The driver still didn't even see them... she got a brief glimps of him before impact...he was asleep behind the wheel....he didn't even slam on the breaks...the car simply slammed into her.
There was no pain. It was so instantanious that she barely felt a thing. She saw her body then....below her. It was just like the movies depicted...she was floating away from the scene. Time was unharnessed....suddenly ambulences were there. Her son....David....he was curled up on the street in the same place she had pushed him...he was crying hysterically. The paremadics were trying to take care of him, but he wouldn't cooperate. Cat tried to go to him, but...she looked for the car...where had it gone?
SHe glanced it....it was hundereds of feet farther down the road...it's front smashed, the metal curled around a tree it had hit so forcefully. There was....
Cat gasped, as she realized there was a person pinned between teh tree and the car. Blood everywhere, the person unrecognizable.
"No! That's not me! I have to take care of my son! He has no one else!" She cried. But the shock of seeing her body was the push needed to shove her into the other world. She knew, despite how she was fighting, that she could not stay on Earth.

She heard crying. And that was what finally brought her awake. She opened her deep brown eyes, the same color as her sons. She was greeted by an icey cold sky, and rain. Cold pinpricks of rain, kissing her skin. Cat blinked. A dark gray sky? Where was she? Was she alive after all? She sat up slowly, her long dark brown almost black hair falling down across her lightblue sweater and shoulder. Then she heard the crying again.
"MOMMY!" A voice screamed in terror. Her motherly heart leapt at the sound. A sound she would never be able to ignore. Cat stood up quickly getting to her feet and looked around. She barely noticed her surrounding. She saw a few other people, some older then she, some younger. Then she saw the source of the cry. A teenage girl was huddled on teh ground looking terrified. She cried for her mother. Although Cat was not her mother...she had always loved children. She hurried over to the young girl then knelt down beside her. Cat didn't even fully grasp that she was dead yet, all she saw was a frightened child.
"Shhh....it's alright. I'll take care of you for a little while, ok?" Cat said. She reached out a gentle hand and brushed the girls wet hair out of her face.
"Don't be afraid. We'll figure things out together."


Out in the distance, about fifty feet away from the group a misty figure stood. If a person stared long enough, they would realize it resembled a little girl. The small girl giggled, her voice coming out as if it were the wind.

*Joseph was the last to awaken as he heard the whimpering little girl. He figured that he was somehow still alive after what happened, laying somewhere in St. Jerome's hospital. But as he truly felt the wet sand under his fingers he knew that he was only lying to himself. He liften up his hands, and his burnt red palms were exposed, fleshy lumps and circles were scattered across it, it was where he was burnt, and it was how he died. He pushed his jacket up and felt his back, the same burns existed there, too. Crackles of energy coursed through his head as he felt around. He was electrocuted? An accident at work, must've been. He got up, this wasn't heaven...was there heaven? Well, either way Joseph was glad that there wasn't just emptyness after death...though he had a feeling it was that doubt which lead to his being here...in this purgatory.

"Wha...what's wrong?" He asked to the woman trying to take care of the whimpering girl.

For the first time Cat realized that there were other people with her. One of the men spoke to her. SHe glanced over her shoulder at him, not moving from her palce on the ground next to the girl.
"I'm not sure. She' terrified." She responded. Cat looked around to the rest of the group. There was a...a screaming woman off to tehr ight, with another man trying to comfort her. Then another man...a stranger man with a large staff of sorts looking over them all silently. There was also another man looking bewildered or confused. Althought Cat was sure this man wouldn't know, he was the only one who ahd spoken to her yet. She turned to him once more.
"I...I died." She said. It was an odd thing to say indeed. For she did not feel dead. But she was, for David wa not with her. And if David were not with her...then she must be dead. For death was the only thing that could seperate her from her son. She stared up at the man, still brushing the girls head gently.
"Are...are you dead too? Is this...is this...heaven?" She asked. Once more aware that this man probably could not help her. She grumbled to herself.
"I'm so sorry. You must be just as confused as me. I...I'm Cat. SHort for Cathleen." She introduced. She turned back to the girl, still trying to sooth her.

Robert had trouble doing anything else then staring blankly at the backs of the strangers surrounding him. He looked around to a further point, examining the desert-like world around him. Rob suddenly felt he shouldn't have opened his eyes at all.
"..This isn't heaven.." He muttered, in no way loud enough for anyone else to make out. He took one step foward, immersing himself further into the miniscule crowd. "What happened? Where am I?"

There were people.. a woman trying to comfort her. She longed for the comforting touches but at the same time felt repulsed. She didn't want anyone to touch her. Physical contact only made her feel more sick. She burned fiercely and her mind was reeling. She began shivering violently and stopped whimpering. She felt confused and wanted to be violently sick but for some reason she didn't although her stomach heaved.

Meanwhile, Shana was sitting a good distance away from the group, hands clamped over her head, shaking violently and gibbering what seemed to be nonsense, although for her it was far from that. Why wouldn't she leave her alone? Why couldn't Heidi just go away? But instead of taunting her more with words, Heidi's voice just kept laughing, causing her to sob uncontrollably. What was to happen to her now? Heidi was still there...she'd always be there.

With this thought, the tears ceased. There were no more to cry. The betrayed hope she'd had before was gone and lost, replaced by simple, empty hopelessness. There was no way to save herself now, no way to keep this other entity out. She fell back onto the sand, her fingernails raking slowly through it, as she wished beyond all other things that she could simply cease to exist.

Meta walked calmly towards the cloak, folded it back up, and slid it back into an inside pocket in his robe. This group seemed to be more of a montley crew than others he had encountered, the personal demons of a few of them seemed too strong to allow them rest. He knew that standing out in the rain would not help any of their problems, and he could at least let them know the situation they were in. He spoke loudly so he could be, but still managed to have an edge of gentleness in his voice. "You all have questions and I have at least some answers, or at least I have a place a little bit more dry than this," Meta looked up and motioned to the sky when he said this, and then turned his head and pointed his staff in the direction of the ruined tower. Knowing that it would be difficult to get the most disturbed of them to move right away Meta knelt in the wet sand by the sobbing girl, already one was trying to confort her. He spoke clearly to the suffering girl, and yet his speech was impossible to make out to any but her. "The man who did this has been captured, he will suffer for his crimes and will not be able to do this to anyone else. I hope that you can find at least some comfort in this. Come with me now, I can explain to you what has happened, and help make more clear what will happen." After speaking this he stood and walked to where he originally stood, and resumed his previous position, resting both his hands ontop of his staff. "Who here will follow me?"

Robert opened his mouth to answer the stranger, but nothing emitted outward except a heavy sigh. He had been so confused, bewildered to a brand new extent. Bringing his hands through his sand-encrusted hair, he did his best to let go of the tension in the pit of his stomach. For some reason, he felt calm and almost safe. Maybe it was because he did not stand anxiously at the edge of a high platform, awaiting his depressing death.
He didn't want to know exactly what happened, but as far as his jittery mind could remember, he was sure he already knew.
"I'll follow." He said, the tone of his voice bouncing.

The man Cat had spoken to earlier seemed as dazed and confused as she or any of the others. But the man with the staff and cloak had offered to give them some answers. This was much better then nothing.
"I will come also." Cat said. But she did not get up right away. She couldnt leave the girl alone. She leaned in closly to speak with her.
"Come on honey...we're going someplace warm and dry. You'll feel better inside." She said, hoping that she were helping. Then she took the girls hand gently in hers and began to try and help her to stand.

Tristan felt a bond with this man, the cloaked sage in grey. He didn't know what sort of lives people lived in this place, but whatever they ammounted to, the cloaked man seemed to sacrifice time out of his to give lost souls like this group a direction. If everyone that ever lived ended up here, than odds would be good that a group would be first greeted with bandits and thevies that were never given direction like they were. Tristan was very grateful to the old man for the oppurtunity he was giving, not only himself, but the others, who seemed to need it far more.

"I haven't known you long, but already I think I'd trust you with my life. Since it's a bit late for that, however... the least I can do is come with you."

It was not that simple, however. Tristan could go nowhere until he was certain that the others were far enough out of shock to follow the old man. The girl whose clothing was reduced to rags was being comforted by the motherly woman that had been awoken, brought back from the dead so to speak, by the cries of that very girl. Tristan respected that. He had never had time, it seemed, to settle down and become a father, and that was really the only regret he had about his death. It had always seemed to him, however, that his students had, in part, become his children. He had kept close ties with some all the way to their early adulthood.

The member of their group that Tristan felt needed the most coersing was the girl in the straight jacket. There was obviously a story there, and she might even have been dangerous, but Tristan knew she could be helped. He walked over to her, cautiously, keeping his distance; he didn't want to frighten her away.

"I don't know what your demons are, but I can help you, and this man in the grey can help you too. He wants to move us to a dry place, and tell us about this world we've ended up in. I know you're confused and lost; so am I, but I trust this man to have some answers. I hope you'll come with him."

The man approached her. She knew he was a man and her fear rose and she quivered harder shaking like a leaf in the wind. Then he spoke and for a moment she was still
"The man who did this has been captured, he will suffer for his crimes and will not be able to do this to anyone else. I hope that you can find at least some comfort in this. Come with me now, I can explain to you what has happened, and help make more clear what will happen." For some reason she knew only she could hear his words.. and for a moment she felt better. The sorrow and shock then returned but weaker.. their power over her less then before.
"Come on honey...we're going someplace warm and dry. You'll feel better inside." The woman spoke and helped her to her feet. Still not truly there she nodded numbly and prepared to allow herself to be led where ever they would take her. The anxiety had not faded.
((fixed sorry bout that))

After helping the young girl to her feet, Cat noticed after several examples, that the girl seemed to be afraid of men. It was not uncommon amongst abused girls...and Cat had a terrible feeling. SHe often trusted her feelings, especially when it came to how someone felt, or someone's emotions. Being a woman herself...the feeling coming off the girl was undeniable, and she was sure most any other woman would recognize the fear the young girl showed in men.
Feeling more connected to this girl then ever, and feeling an even stronger need to protect her, Cat moved in a bit closer to her, and wrapped her arms around the girls trembeling shoulders.
"It's ok...no one here will hurt you." She said. But then again...she couldn't be positive. After all, she had no idea where she was. Heaven or Hell, or some middle ground? She wasn't sure. But it was clear that there WAS pain inthis place, or the girl wouldn't be so tramatized. So she could not be sure that the girl wouldn't be hurt in the future. But she knew she had to say SOMETHING to sooth her. Finally she decided to say something more true.
"I'll stay with you. I won't leave you alone with anyone, ok?" She asked again, hoping this was better. She rubbed the girls shoulders trying to warm her.
"You're freezing!" She said. They walked a moment more. "My name is Cat. What's yours?" She hoped that this casual conversation would ease the girl's fright, and distract her from her fears.

((Correct me if I'm wrong, but Tristan's comment was to the girl in the straight jacket, yes? That would be Shana, not Dimi. Sorry, had to correct that.))

The hopeless 23-year-old sat up, her face red from the cold and from the tears she had been crying. Had she been slightly less unhinged, she would have thanked him, but as she was, she was hesitant. What if...what if he gave her more hope? It would only betray her again. Heidi wasn't going away, which meant that everyone around her was potentially in danger.

That's right, I'm not going away, Shana...

She cringed at the sound of Heidi laughing again, but managed to pull herself off of the ground. She looked up at the man who had been speaking to her, and scowled slightly. She wasn't a child, and didn't need to be spoken to as such. It reminded her of the institution, where they'd coo at her as if she was a baby, then send her to electroshock. Her fingers touched the spots on her arms where red scars were still present, even now in the hereafter. She shuddered slightly, but nodded towards Tristan, and began to walk towards the man cloaked in gray.

((Yeah, it was directed towards Shana))

Tristan nodded. The girl was not totally lost, but she would need some healing. He turned to the last member of their group, who hadn't spoken much except to express his concern for the girl in the rags. He didn't look very comfortable, but it seemed he was at least gripping his sanity with a few fingers still. Tristan grunted, and waited for him to respond. Looks could be deceiving.

This man, had he always been there? Was he with the rest of those who had just awakened? Maybe he was something more, someone that has been here for ages, to repent even? But following him seemed like a much better option than staying here. Bunch of sadsacks they were, if he stuck with them much longer like this he'd probably wind up killing his own sorry self...well, again anyway. The man even tried to comfort that crazy girl...it was pretty amiable, maybe they were angels. But where were they? Was this heaven, hell, neither? The man promised answers, however Joseph was still the last to answer, last to awaken, last to answer, this was becoming a bad habit. Another man had been staring at him, waiting for him, for what? Must be to go with the man. Joseph knew his answer, and nodded softly to him before taking two steps forward.

"I'm in." He said.

"Excuse me."

The new arrivals and the old man who emerged from the tower were suddenly greeted by a presence of an unfamiliar man, young in appearance and dressed in brown rags stained by the rain.

"Meta, excuse my intrusion," The man said. "The shift had changed, so I have come to take your place in the tower...but I see that you are occupied with new arrivals. The rain is growing heavier, so it is imperative that that we get these souls into some shelter before their bodies catch a chill.

"We could keep them in the tower for now, since that's closer, unless you want to take them to the settlement first. I know that might be a bit more comfortable for these souls."

Meta seemed relieved to see the man in rags. After he listened to the suggestion he looks back at the group who had agreed to follow him. The group seemed more unstable and more psycologicly fragile than many grops he was acostomed too. "No, friend, I think it would be best to let them know a little about their situation before introducing them to any others like them. You're welcome to come along if you like, perhaps you could help me give them the answered they have to be seeking." With this Meta began to walk again towards the tower, leaning heavily on his staff with each step for support. A screech filled the landscape as the large doors of wood and iron were pushed inward to allow access to the tower. As if as a resault of the loud noise there was a sound of thunder and the sky released its downpour more intensely than before. The old man stepped quickly into the tower and motioned with his arm for the others to follow.

Within the tower a weak fire burned to lightly illuminate the bottom room. The fire seemed to struggle with maintaining its presence, but whe ncompared to the cold and wet outside even this pitiful flame was a welcome presence. The lowest room of the tower was outfitted with the objects nessisary for some minor comfort. Simple wooden chairs were positioned around a large table, and a massive stained carpet covered the dirt floor. Slowly, and with the sign of some effort, Meta sat at the head of the table in the chair that seemed in the worst condition. He set his staff to lean against his chair and folded his hands in his lap after motioning for the others to sit. He cleared his throat and opened his mouth as if he were to begin a long speech, but then seemed to think about it for a moment, and then shut his mouth again. After a bit of thought he looked at the faces of those around him and nodded to himself. "So, then, who among you has the first question? One at a time, if you can manage, please." His voice was filled with a general concern. Many who possess a wealth of knowledge that the majority of present company does not will hold it over the ignorant parties, and use that knowledge to make themselves superior. Meta showed no sign of this, he appeared only as a soul who genuinely wanted to educate with his only motivation being compassion.

Tristan was relieved to finally be underway. It seemed an eternity since they had arrived, if only because he had been searching his own soul (was that all that was left, anyway?) for answers every step of the way. As his feet began moving him in the direction of the dishevaled tower, he suddenly snapped back into his own mind, as if he had been detatched from his body, and it suddenly hit him like a ton of bricks that he was dead. His body was no more, this shell he was inhabiting something altogether different, though not dissimilar. His mind was numb with wondering, but abuzz with the questions.

Another man in rags appeared after not too long, and had spoken to the old man. Tristan was amazed at one thing he heard, something about a "settlement". Tristan was sure, now, that there were many others here, and that this was probably the final resting place of all souls, not simply this few. He followed the old man, apparently named Meta, along with the ragtag group of souls to the nearby tower, finding a cozy fire and mediocre funiture, signifying that at least that there were some skilled laborors here, if this was indeed another realm altogether from the world Tristan knew.

"So, then, who among you has the first question? One at a time, if you can manage, please." Meta's calm question came as a shock, contrasting with Tristan's growing need to have them answered. He was truly grateful to this kind man for imparting his knowledge without so much as a thank-you expected in return. Of course, Tristan wouldn't dream of leaving the man without thanking him, and volunteering his "time" such as it was, as there seemed to be no limit to how much he could offer. He ventured the guess, however, that Meta would want the new arrivals to explore the world a little before trying to help others such as themselves. Well, Tristan would ask, but not first; there were too many glaring questions needing answering. He skipped over the first that came to mind, those that were easily answered. They were dead, that he knew. He also knew that others came to this place as well. There were settlements. Specifics could come later, but Tristan needed to know some basics.

"I take it we are dead, correct? If that's so, what are these "bodies" we have? What is different about this world compared to the one we left?"

Cat listened without speaking as a new arrival came and spoke to Meta, the man who was currently caring for them. She felt immensly relived when she hear there was something they were calling a settlement. If there were settlements "of people like them" then this place couldn't be so wretched after all. If there were people to talk to and to keep company with, and who actually formed a sort of community, then all would be well.
So, she took the shaken girls hand and followed the rest to the tower. It was much nicer inside, and she quickly took the chair at the table that was nearest the fire. She thought about it, then got up and gave the chair to the girl who was still shovering lightly. Instead, Cat took the chair next to her.
Again Cat listened as those around her spoke. She was sure that many of her own questions would be answered if she simply listened. And indeed, one of the most important questions on her mind was asked first by one of the men. She really ahd to get to know their names!
"I take it we are dead, correct? If that's so, what are these "bodies" we have? What is different about this world compared to the one we left?" He said. She couldn't have put it any better herself. Cat looked to Meta expectantly.

As the party departed for the tower, the small vapory form followed them at a distance. She was much too curious to really leave them alone. New arrivals were so much fun to play with! She skipped after them lightly through the rain which had suddenly become a downpour. The fat drops went right through her, not effecting her at all.
Her new playmates entered the tower. She skipped right in after them, and decided to watch them from the doorway. She giggled lightly, her airy whispy voice reaching the table they sat at, but could easily be mistaken for the wind.

The question brought a smile to Meta's face, and it seemed that this was the natural state his face should be in. Even the wrinkles conformed to give his face a strong friendlieness when his lips were turned upward. "New arrivals never can keep it to just one question at a time, I should just stop asking. Your assumption is correct, you have passed from the world that you knew. I don't like to use the word 'died', as died suggests an ending when all that happned was a step all must take in their life. How are the forms your souls inhabit differant? Could you feel the cold of the rain outside? Can you feel the warmpth of the fire? If I were to crack you with my staff you would find , perhaps to your dismay, you would feel the same pain you would have in the previous stage of your life. Little is changed, you still must eat, you still must sleep, and it is still wise to avoid situations that caused you to pass from the last existance into this one." The man's smile faded as he prepared to answer the second question.

"The answer to your second question, I'm afraid, might not be so nice. I'll start off by saying you are not in any sort of hell, so you can put those suspicions behind you. There is such a place, but I doubt that is among your primary concerns now. Many would find this world bleaker than the one left behind, although I have managed to find a cold comfort in it. The weather is rarely better than what you have seen outside, food has little if any taste, any attempts at true civilization in the way most of you would know it fail inevitably. The things that made the last life most precious are still present in this one, however. Companionship, Hope, Caring, Love.. many of the finer things still exist. I could not explain all the differances to you, you will need to experiance most of them for yourselves. Meta's smile returned and he folded his arms across his chest. "Good questions, .... ahh.. I didn't get your name, I'm sorry. What was it? Are there any more questions from anyone before we move along?"

Tristan knew a few people who had lived sinful lives either uncaring of the concequences or in expectation of an abrupt end to all that they were at the end of their life. He was glad he had decided not to follow this path now.

"There is such a place," Meta had said. This world was not a wonderful paradise per se, and anything worse for eternity would be simply unbearable. Tristan felt a pang of sorrow for such souls that couldn't know their punishment, but then, most of them expected some sort of judgement at the End. He couldn't help but have his thoughts shift to the young man who had cruelly ended his life. I pray for you, Tristan thought almost aloud. Seek salvation, or you may find yourself in a Hell of your own making. I cannot wish that on anyone, you least of all.

"I didn't get your name, I'm sorry. What was it?" Meta inquired.

"My name is Tristan Reese, sir. I was a teacher of history before... coming here."

Cat listened well. And although she was not unhappy with the answers that were given...she wasn't truely happy with them either. She had always been strongly religious in her lifetime, and the idea that there was a Hell, but no heaven disturbed her. Then again, maybe she was jumping to conclusions, Meta had not said there was no Heaven, he simply didn't meantion it. He also made it clear that the place they were in was not entirely joyful. The weather...that was big one for her. She had always enjoyed the sun beyond how regular people probably took it for granted. She frowned. She had questions... but she was not about toa sk about the comforts of this world, or even about Heaven. She was sure she could find that information out easily enough from anyone else who would dwell in this strange realm. But there was one question...one terribly important question that she was sure no one else in theis strange place would know. Perhaps even this man wouldn't be able to help her. In any case...she had to try...
"I'm sorry to delay us sir...but I have some questions." Cat started. The teenage girl who sat next to her hadn't spoken...but she had at least seemed to settle down a little. Cat would make sure to put much effort into getting her to feel more relaxed after her urgent questions were answered. Cat faced Meta directly and made eye contact.
"I left a son behind....he...he has no father, and I have no other relatives except my parents. But I'm afraid the courts won't let him live with them because of their age. Is there....is there any way that I can still look after him. Even...even if it's something as minor as being able to see him for short amounts of time. I'll take anything at all. It's just I was hoping that...that well...all those movies about ghosts and...out of body experiences and such....or...or psychics! Anything at all? Any little thing will do..." She said. And it was clear her heart was in her words. Although she was holding her head up high, and was keeping a strieght face, her eyes watered. She couldn't stand the idea...of her boy being in any typ of pain. But she was sure that was exactly what he was going through without her.

The young man in rags, having observed quietly the new arrivals and Meta's handling of the situation, spoke up upon hearing the mother's question.

"While I do not want to get your hopes up, it is possible for a select few to look upon the earth...but they are not human at all," He answered solemnly, "If you're not careful, using their gift can cost you a very high price. I will say no more, for you've only just arrived. To dive more into the subject right now would just add to your dismay."

He bowed his head slightly to Meta. "I'm sorry if I spoke out of line...but I felt that it had to be said."

"I would not have answered much differently, you were not out of line," Meta said as he slowly stood from his chair and again shifted most of his weight onto the staff which he leaned on. All could plainly see his mouth move, however his voice sounded muffled, perhaps by the rain outside, to the others. None except for the woman who feared for her son could hear his voice clearly. "Your son is going to be taken care of by your parents, he is sad, but he is safe." The old man moved a hand away from his staff and motioned towards the group sitting at the table. "Any more questions before we depart?"