Memento Mori: Mors Immatura

Chapter Five

The spectral fire gave off a white light as it curled in the fireplace. The Beyond, the place that I came to when I was dead, was neither cold nor warm, light nor dark. The walls of the cottage were lined with books, and a chair sat snugly next to the fireplace. The door was locked and the window shutters sealed shut. I curled up in the chair, and watched the tendrils of the fire curl and twist towards me.

The first time I had died, I had arrived in the Beyond, I was scared, and disorientated. Unlike every ghost I had spoken to, for some reason, I always ended up here. I'd discovered the cottage, but also shaped it, forming it with my will, into my safe space in this void that made up the Beyond. I locked myself in here, away from the forms that wandered aimlessly about outside. I think they are the souls of other people. There is a presence out there. It's oppressive, and heavy, and when I first ar rived in the Beyond, I knew that I needed to hide from it. And so, I found and made the cottage.

I pulled a book off the shelf, and stared at the pages; the words were familiar, but unreadable. Like trying to remember a word on the tip of your tongue. One day, perhaps, I'd manage to decipher the words, and all the knowledge of the Beyond would be open to me.

I leafed through a few more pages, feeling that if I just stared hard enough, then the words would make sense to me. But it wouldn't be today.

I don't know if I came from the Beyond. I don't remember anything from before I was found wandering, like the other Millennium Citizens, just before the Bells on New Year's Eve. A million of us, all around the world, all children, about five years old, each with their own unique abilities.

Five of us had been found in the United Kingdom, and were taken into the care of the Carnegie Investiture. Peter, the Force, with his superhuman strength, had become our de facto leader. He had arrived at the Investiture first, so the staff treated him like the oldest, and following their cue, we deferred to him.

The others, Sarah, Avery and Frieda, all had obvious powers; easy to observe and quantify. To the staff at the Investiture, I was a mystery, with no clear or obvious powers. Had I not been found, crawling out of a crypt in the Necropolis that overlooked the city, by parishioners as they exited the Cathedral for a carol service, they would have assumed that I was just a lost child, rather than a Citizen.

The building that the Investiture was based in, Carnegie House, had been many things over the years- a stately home, a school, a hospital- and was filled with ghosts. As a young child, the staff just thought that I was speaking to my imaginary friends, and put me through a battery of tests to work out what my powers were.

I was adamant that the people speaking to me were real, but the vehemence of the staff that I just had an overactive imagination made me doubt my own eyes.

They only started to believe me after my first visit to the Beyond.

We had a lot of training to become the team that they hoped we'd be. The Americans, Russians and Chinese had quickly turned their Millennium Citizens over to the military and were showcasing their powers against other soldiers.

The first time I went to the Beyond we were practising escape training. We were tied in straight jackets and dangled above a perspex case that was slowly filled with water. The staff member who thought of this as a test of skill had either watched too many James Bond films, or was a Houdini fan.

Peter simply burst free of his restraints, and was able to pull himself out of the tank, as easily as if he were playing on monkey bars in the playground. Frieda- or Fred as we'd taken to calling her- teleported herself out of the tank, leaving the straight jacket behind.

Avery and Sarah, with their similar powers, took slightly different paths to escape; Sarah brushed her hair against the skin of the staff member and was able to take them into her thrall. Using her mind control abilities, she had them release her and carry her down from the tank. Avery, with their powers of bacchanalia, caused the observing staff to fall into a frenzy, and one of them bumped into the controls as they made out with their colleague, draining the water and releasing Avery.

I swallowed hard when it was my turn. I'd looked to my friend, Martha, who mouthed the words 'good luck' to me, holding up her crossed fingers. As an incorporeal spirit that only I could see or hear, she wasn't going to be much use to me in helping me out of the tank.

I remembered to hyperventilate to oxygenate my blood, allowing me to stay underwater longer. I had made sure to struggle against my restraints and expand my chest then they put the jacket on me, giving me wriggle room.

But try as I might, hanging upside down, I watched the water fill the tank. I managed to get one arm over my head, half free, but my second arm was still buckled behind me. The water soaked my hair.

"You can do this!" Avery cupped their hands around their mouth to shout encouragement to me. The staff looked on, several scribbling notes, consulting read outs from the heart monitor I was wearing, and muttering amongst themselves.

I struggled harder, trying to free my arm. The water quickly covered my eyes, and I was able to take one last gulp of air before my head was submerged.

I could see the others watching pensively as I managed to twist my arm out from behind me. My ears were filled with water, and I could hear my blood pumping, feel my heart thundering in my chest. I saw Peter punch the air with delight as I got my arm out from behind my back, but I didn't have the strength to pull myself up to unfasten the restraints that fastened my feet.

Panic set in, and all of the training went out of the window. I thrashed in the water, spots dancing before my eyes, my heart about to explode.

I screamed, but that only let the air out and the water in.

I was in the Beyond. I felt nothing. I was alone, and I followed the spectral light.

I'm not sure which of us had the bigger fright; me waking up in the mortuary of the Investiture, or Dr Choi, who had just finished his post-mortem of my body, who was about to close the door to the refrigerator.

I had the grave-chills, and I sat on the autopsy table, wrapped in a blanket, sharing some of Dr. Choi's lunch- bibimbap- as he cut out the stitches that he had sewn into me moments before.

After that, the other staff took great interest in me, and whilst the others were practising their training in hand to hand combat, lock picking, and escapology, I was being tested on further.