When You Die

Chapter Nine

11:43 AM, floor 45 of Death's Penthouse, April 24, 2019

Ada and Emma appeared on the ground, next to the cookie jar, breathless. "Wow, I can't believe we went into my memory" Ada said, standing up. She looked at her watch. "We were in there for a long time, too. Emma nodded distractedly. "Ada, do you know why your vision ended with you in Bill Herdel's living room?"

Ada nodded sheepishly. "Um, yeah actually. I forgot to show you." She reached into her pocket. "I actually haven't had the chance to read it yet, but I think it's a letter or something." She handed the faded parchment to Emma, who read it quickly out it loud. "Who's GMP?" She asked. Ada shrugged. "Don't ask me."

Emma started walking in circles around the room. "Maybe if we can figure out what your hand says, it will give us a clue as to who GMP is!" She stopped pacing and turned to Ada. "I have a friend who knows everything there is to know about languages. Maybe it's an ancient language or something."

Ada was staring off into space, a confused look on her face. She suddenly snapped back to reality. "Um Emma, did you hear that?" She asked softly. Emma walked over to Ada and placed a steady hand on her shaking shoulder. "No, I didn't. Ada, are you okay?" Ada stared into Emma's worried eyes. "I want to talk to my mom, Sarah and my grandma."

Emma took her hand off Ada's shoulder. "But... I think we should-"

"I want to talk to them. You said I could, and I miss them." Ada said, her eyes cold.

"Fine. But we need to go to my friend's house after this." Emma sighed. "Ada, you need to say their names into this microphone." She rummaged in a desk drawer and produced a vintage microphone. Ada snatched it out of her hands, and said very clearly, "Sarah Mali Collins, Cecelia Maeve Collins, and Mali Ada Collins." There was a gasp from where Emma was standing, but Ada ignored it. She watched, transfixed, as three figures slowly appeared before her eyes.

Sarah looked confused, but her eyes were brimming with tears of joy. "Ada- what? How? Ada, how am I seeing you? Are you okay? I've missed you so much!" She tried to hug Ada, but her feet seemed as if they were stuck to the ground. The older woman now spoke. "Ada Mata, do you have any idea how much shock you gave me? I didn't eat for forever! And anyways, what is this place? It's nice."

Ada shook her head. "Grandma, can I ask you how long 'forever' was?" She said, dodging the question. Probably nowhere near a week. She thought with a smile. Her grandmother could barely withstand eating for a few hours, let alone a week and a half. Her grandmother looked at Ada with mock disapproval. "Child, did anyone ever tell you to respect your elders? You can't go around askin' questions like that. It ain't your business." Ada smirked, "Thought so."

"Ada, your father loved you." This time the voice came from Cecelia. "He loved you so much. He still loves you. More than anything in the world." Ada was completely blown off her feet my surprise for two reasons. One, because her mother had spoken to her; that hadn't happened in forever. And two, she had mentioned her father. The only thing Ada knew about her father was that he had been absent from her life since she was a baby, and she didn't know how she would respond to her mother.

"Uh, thanks? I, um- love him too." She stammered awkwardly. Cecelia nodded firmly. "I'm glad you understand." Ada turned to Emma, who was staring blankly out the window. "Emma? You can say hi if you want." Emma turned around, picking at her fingernails, her face white as a sheet, and her voice thin. "I can't see them now. If you tell the mic you want me to speak to them, I will be able to see them, but they still won't be able to see me." Ada nodded. "Okay." She spoke loudly into the microphone her requests, and waved a hand dramatically in the direction of her family. Emma looked at them, gasped, and crumpled to the ground.

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11:46 AM, somewhere in the Afterlife, April 24, 2019

Bill Herdel heard the elevator doors bing! As they slowly spread apart. He walked out of the elevators and started stumbling sleepily down the hall. He had done it. Completed the project he had been working on non-stop. He smiled slyly. He was back on track after the first part of his plan had failed.

Jumping had taken up an enormous amount of his energy; it had almost killed him. He rolled up his left sleeve and tapped his bare skin. The flesh seemed to melt away from his arm, and only machinery was left, glowing black. He tapped the metal, now, and his skin snaked back into place.

He reached his door and swiped the keycard in the lock. The door clicked open, and he stepped into the room. But he stepped back and retrieved a knife from his pocket. Now he slunk through the doorframe in a fighting stance. He took a few steps, relaxed his position, and started walking towards the bed. Suddenly, without turning around, he threw the knife behind him, and kept walking. It landed in the door with a boing, and a voice spoke from right next to it.

"Nice going, you could have really hurt me there. I see you're quite as paranoid as you were six years ago. " A man receded from the shadows. The sight of him was horrifying. His right leg was missing from below the knee, and it was replaced by what seemed to be a lion's paw, and he had one arm in a cast, and the other one was covered with scratches. But the worst of all was his face. It was so scratched and bloodied that it was almost unrecognizable as a human face.

"Old habits die hard, as they say, Dane." Bill Herdel said from across the room. In the blink of an eye, he was standing in front of the stranger. "If I had wanted to hurt you, you would be laying on the ground, with a knife sticking out of your chest." He said, an amused smile flitting across his face.

"Wow, you look bad. It looks like you Jumped, Sa-" He suddenly stopped talking at the look on Bill's face. The latter removed the knife from the door with a dull thud, leaving a deep crevice in the polished mahogany door. He pressed the tip of the knife into Dane's neck, who's eyes flickered with hatred and fear. "Don't. Say. That. Name." Bill Herdel hissed through gritted teeth. "Yes, okay." Dane panted from the pressure of the blade against his windpipe. "Let go of me." He gruffly released him, even more exhausted now.

"I see you answered my call, Dane." Bill Herdel said, slumping down on the mesh office chair the hotel provided. Dane sat down on the queen bed across from him, rubbing his scarred neck. "Yeah, I figured that I would stop by to see an old friend." He grinned, revealing only a few chipped teeth. Bill pounded the desk with his fist, rattling the lamp and the office phone that sat on the surface. "I sent it out to the others, too, but I haven't heard a word from them."

Dane chuckled. "Those were the days." He stood up and yawned. "Well, I really need a nap, so I should get going to my room. You should probably get one in, too. It was good to see you, um, whatever you want me to call you; I would very much like to avoid you attempting to impale me. It would probably end in you laying on the ground with a knife sticking out of your chest." He said, grinning cheekily.

"Wait- I made some updates." Bill said. Dane looked at him quizzically. He tapped his arm again, and it melted away like the time before. Dane looked at it and gasped. "You've done it! You did it!" He came rushing towards Bill and touched the machinery. After a moment, he tapped his arm again, and his skin covered up the shiny metal, and smiled to himself. He had done it.