What I Do For A Living (MCR Fanfic)

We're Not Done Yet

/Nobody’s P.O.V/

      Afterlife has never felt so much pleasure in eternity, knowing that the race of stupid humans could possibly outlive him. In the mausoleum’s chamber, Gerard and the ghost named Ray could only stand, wearing faces contrasting the Afterlife’s somewhat enlightened side.

      When the strongest one was through, he eyed at Ray. In a quick move, he swiped his boney fingers across Ray’s chest, and in a flash, the two were gone. They left, without a trace. The paranormal, heavy feeling their presence has caused in the area was lifted, and it made it easier for Gerard to breathe. The red fogging was gone as well.

      The ignorant human was only stunned by the sudden disappearance of his company. Didn’t they have unfinished matters? Half happy that he was left alone, he turned his heels and began to move out, and possibly, go home.

      There was a creaking sound; then it grew into a roaring crack that stopped Gerard on his track. A huge, wooden door, which the human never knew was there, hindered him from leaving the chamber.

      We are not done yet, fleshy soul. Stay.

      A booming voice echoed and Gerard could only shrug, as he sat by the brick wall, trying to catch some sleep.

/Ray’s P.O.V/

      I was fairly disappointed by Gerard’s decision. I thought he was smarter than the average bear; to choose death than a meaningless life, which would be the result if he worked for Afterlife. I was trying to help, if that means anything. But no, I guess it’s just the nature of us humans (living or dead) to make stupid decisions. Or maybe, I’m not credible enough, considering the fact I am already dead and was about to kill him…

      Anyways, Afterlife touched me with his unnatural hand, and it sent me to void darkness; to a dark space where there is no time. No present, past or future. The very essence of my soul stood alone, cold, shaking, and naked in this darkness. I feared this place a lot, for the bareness of my being was transparent in front of Afterlife, making me so vulnerable. He would know every secret, mistake, happiness or memory I ever had as a human. This is where he studies you with his eyes that only see one thing- death. No life, no hope. Death.

      I had been here many times. The first time was when I died and the last brain wave of mine caught sight of Afterlife. Then, I woke up here, in this very darkness.

      The memory of my death replayed unpleasantly.

      In this place, any soul, no matter how long you had been dead, could feel human again, and the feeling is exhilarating. The whole feeling of your flesh intact, to see your hands again and to actually use your freaking lungs again could bring anyone to sudden tears.

      Though it seemed like a Heaven to us departed souls, it wasn’t designed to be kind to us. The sad thing about being ‘human’ again is that, you can feel real pain again. You can relive the memory of your death, and feel the hole in your head or the axe in your back.

      Afterlife called this his playground.

      This was everyone else’s torture chamber.

      “Why did you bring me here?” I asked. You could barely speak in this exile, for it doesn’t acknowledge any language. But I have learned few tricks of the dark.

      “Because,” he spoke “I have a new plan for you.”

      That’s funny; to think he doesn’t have plans for anyone. But I stayed silent as a response.