The Veil Between Life and Death
Posted: Fri Nov 27, 2020 4:11 pm
Ethan found himself in the middle of a dead forest; the leafless trees towered over him like blackened skeletons. The featureless sky above was sepia, flat, and cloudless. The air was heavy with the scents of death and decay. It was stale and unmoving like inside of a humid closet, and nearly as claustrophobic feeling.
A rutted track of thick black mud followed the edge of the trees Ethan followed the road of sorts as his boots sunk above the ankle with a squelch. It was both sweltering and bone chilling cold as his labor sent sheets of sweat down his face which caused him to shiver uncontrollably.
After what seemed like an eternity the road opened into a wide rolling field with tall tawny grass. Along the road were dozens of "L" shaped poles lining the road into the distance. From the ends, hung by the neck, were corpses. Most of the deceased where nothing more than dried black husks, their lips pulled back into ghastly grins. A few, however, barely saw any decay at all.
A crow cawed with irritation at Ethan's intrusion as it hopped around on the shoulder of one of the hanging corpses. Ethan blinked in realization that the crow was as dead as everything else in this land. It stared at him with empty eye sockets. Giving the corpse one final peck it spread its tattered wings and took flight.
The field before him showed signs of an epic battle. Smoke rose from destroyed tanks, and aircraft. Canon on wagon type carriages lay destroyed on their sides. Broken chariots and dead horses were scattered everywhere. Lifeless soldiers had to number into the millions if not tens of millions. The solders too were out of place. Their uniforms were of every conceivable human civilization in history. There were warriors wearing tanned loincloths, their spears still in their hands lying next to the Terra Alpha marines with their energy weapons slung over their back.
Nearby a solitary man worked alongside a two wheeled cart drawn by a sorrel horse with sun bleached bones poking out tears in its leathery hide. As he moved the deathly equine followed the man obediently without being lead or being told. As he moved he would stop and inspect a body. Most he left lying there, but occasionally he would bend down and with effort drag the hapless person into the cart.
Ethan approached carefully picking his way around the endless bodies. As he got closer Ethan announced his presence and the man jumped in surprise as he stood from his toil, but obviously thankful for the respite.
"Hello," he replied flatly. He stood with a slight hunch to his back despite appearing to be in his mid-thirties. He was close to Ethan's own six-foot-three, maybe a few inches shorter. His hair was a matted greasy brown paired with dull hazel eyes. He had an all too familiar shape of jaw and nose. Shapes, that Ethan saw staring back at him in the mirror; they were certainly related.
"So I'm in hell?" Ethan asked.
The man chuckled, "It seems like it doesn't it? I don't rightly know if this place even has a name, but it is a part of purgatory. It rests on the boundary between life and death.”
"Is this real or am I dreaming?"
"Does it feel real?" The man asked as he hefted the body of a British Redcoat into the cart. He tucked the redcoat's black cocked hat under his arm. “Poor bastard.”
"I'm not sure. It feels all too surreal, but it doesn’t feel like a dream either."
The man grunted in acknowledgement as he knelt and rolled a knight clad in steel plate onto his back. The steel cuirass crushed and pierced by an unknown heavy object. The man raised the knight's visor and slammed it shut and moved onto the next body. This one was a German SS officer, which with some struggle was shoved into the cart.
"What are you doing?" Ethan asked.
"Separating the redeemable from the irredeemable," the other man replied. "These wretched souls are destined for the road." He said indicating the cart. Our knight friend is in the same fate as I."
He pointed to a female figure of soft blue with expansive white feathered wings in the distance. She landed and picked up a featureless body and then flew skyward disappearing into the brown haze. "Those are the Valkyrie. War dead almost always end up here because their last act in life was violence. Most are taken up, but the rest are left up to people like me to sort through.”
"So I'm dead, and supposed to do what? Help you with this gruesome task?"
The man shook his head, "You are dead, but now is not the time for you to walk the Summerlands or Shadowlands."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Ethan demanded.
"It means now is not yet your time to shuffle off the mortal coil. You may have died, but your life isn’t over. People have been doing that since the dawn of time."
"Okay," Ethan said with a sigh. "So, who are you?"
The man shrugged, "You don't know? You can't see with your own eyes who I am?"
"We look to be related," Ethan replied.
"Indeed we are. Ethan, I am your father. Well, sperm donor anyway. I does my heart good to see that you didn’t turn out like me. I was a right and proper bastard, and there is no excuse for what I did to your mother, and all the other women. But, that isn’t the limit to my sins. I murdered with impunity. I justified it with telling myself that I was just following orders, but I know that was wrong. I knew that I had a choice. We always have a choice, even if it is your own death. But, unlike this German fellow, I knew right from wrong. He just liked killing, and that’s the difference between him and I. Though, my crimes will mean that it will take many many lifetimes of this torment before I can be judged, and in the end I might still end up like him.”
Ethan didn't know how to respond. This was the man that had tortured his mother and here he was in the flesh. But, try as he may he couldn't find it in himself to hate the man. Maybe it was because of the situation he was in. Or perhaps without him Ethan wouldn't exist. "So, why am I here?" Ethan asked.
"How the hell should I know?" His father replied as he kneeled down next to a union soldier laying face down, and rolled him onto his back. "Oh no, you don't belong here!" He said in a shaky voice.
Underneath the Union soldier was a young girl no older than five or six. Her hair was worn in a pair of blonde braids that fell over a white and pink dress. She was clutching a well loved teddy bear. Ethan's father scooped her up into his arms, and with a rag in his pocket he wiped the mud and blood from her face.
"Papa?" She asked blindly in a French accent.
"Shhh child. It'll be alright now," his father said in a shaking voice. "We'll get you to where you belong." There was tenderness in his father that Ethan was shocked to see, and now he could see how this man could be redeemed.
A Valkyrie swooped over head and landed neatly next to them with a rush of horrid air. She wore something like a soft white toga. From the belt on her waist was a golden sword, and she had a shield slung over her back.
His father offered the child to the Valkyrie which she took gratefully. With a sweep of her right hand the little girl was whole and clean as she had been in life. The Valkyrie spread her wings and shot skyward without a word and disappeared into the haze.
“Well, that’s something,” Ethan said. “What’s your name?”
His father stopped in his tracks, and thought about the question with his back turned to Ethan for a moment. “That is not an honor that I deserve. It isn’t a place to give you my name.”
“I didn’t intend to take up your name,” Ethan replied. “But, I feel like I deserve to know where I come from.”
His father remained silent for a moment as he returned to his work. Ethan had to jump out of the way for the cart as the horse continued to follow his father. After a couple of minutes he turned to Ethan and sighed, “You’re right you do deserve to know. My name’s James Calloway, but don’t go thinking you have a right to call me dad. Your father is Milo Talon.”
Ethan nodded silently, and then spoke, “Da… James my wife is pregnant with twins. You are a grandfather, and we intend to name them Diana and Arthur. Trinity’s due at any time.”
James smiled, “It seems I have done more good in my life than I thought. That’s worth something. Now, it’s time for you to return to the world of the living.”
---------
Ethan sucked in air with a gasp. His lungs burned from not having a proper breath in some time. He coughed and his chest ached like the devil. Slowly his surroundings started to coalesce. He was staring up at a white tiled ceiling, and lying in a bed of sorts. There was a buzz of four or five overlapping voices, one of which he made out to be Trinity’s and another to be Tess Ryder. “Oh, I feel like shit,” he groaned.
A rutted track of thick black mud followed the edge of the trees Ethan followed the road of sorts as his boots sunk above the ankle with a squelch. It was both sweltering and bone chilling cold as his labor sent sheets of sweat down his face which caused him to shiver uncontrollably.
After what seemed like an eternity the road opened into a wide rolling field with tall tawny grass. Along the road were dozens of "L" shaped poles lining the road into the distance. From the ends, hung by the neck, were corpses. Most of the deceased where nothing more than dried black husks, their lips pulled back into ghastly grins. A few, however, barely saw any decay at all.
A crow cawed with irritation at Ethan's intrusion as it hopped around on the shoulder of one of the hanging corpses. Ethan blinked in realization that the crow was as dead as everything else in this land. It stared at him with empty eye sockets. Giving the corpse one final peck it spread its tattered wings and took flight.
The field before him showed signs of an epic battle. Smoke rose from destroyed tanks, and aircraft. Canon on wagon type carriages lay destroyed on their sides. Broken chariots and dead horses were scattered everywhere. Lifeless soldiers had to number into the millions if not tens of millions. The solders too were out of place. Their uniforms were of every conceivable human civilization in history. There were warriors wearing tanned loincloths, their spears still in their hands lying next to the Terra Alpha marines with their energy weapons slung over their back.
Nearby a solitary man worked alongside a two wheeled cart drawn by a sorrel horse with sun bleached bones poking out tears in its leathery hide. As he moved the deathly equine followed the man obediently without being lead or being told. As he moved he would stop and inspect a body. Most he left lying there, but occasionally he would bend down and with effort drag the hapless person into the cart.
Ethan approached carefully picking his way around the endless bodies. As he got closer Ethan announced his presence and the man jumped in surprise as he stood from his toil, but obviously thankful for the respite.
"Hello," he replied flatly. He stood with a slight hunch to his back despite appearing to be in his mid-thirties. He was close to Ethan's own six-foot-three, maybe a few inches shorter. His hair was a matted greasy brown paired with dull hazel eyes. He had an all too familiar shape of jaw and nose. Shapes, that Ethan saw staring back at him in the mirror; they were certainly related.
"So I'm in hell?" Ethan asked.
The man chuckled, "It seems like it doesn't it? I don't rightly know if this place even has a name, but it is a part of purgatory. It rests on the boundary between life and death.”
"Is this real or am I dreaming?"
"Does it feel real?" The man asked as he hefted the body of a British Redcoat into the cart. He tucked the redcoat's black cocked hat under his arm. “Poor bastard.”
"I'm not sure. It feels all too surreal, but it doesn’t feel like a dream either."
The man grunted in acknowledgement as he knelt and rolled a knight clad in steel plate onto his back. The steel cuirass crushed and pierced by an unknown heavy object. The man raised the knight's visor and slammed it shut and moved onto the next body. This one was a German SS officer, which with some struggle was shoved into the cart.
"What are you doing?" Ethan asked.
"Separating the redeemable from the irredeemable," the other man replied. "These wretched souls are destined for the road." He said indicating the cart. Our knight friend is in the same fate as I."
He pointed to a female figure of soft blue with expansive white feathered wings in the distance. She landed and picked up a featureless body and then flew skyward disappearing into the brown haze. "Those are the Valkyrie. War dead almost always end up here because their last act in life was violence. Most are taken up, but the rest are left up to people like me to sort through.”
"So I'm dead, and supposed to do what? Help you with this gruesome task?"
The man shook his head, "You are dead, but now is not the time for you to walk the Summerlands or Shadowlands."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Ethan demanded.
"It means now is not yet your time to shuffle off the mortal coil. You may have died, but your life isn’t over. People have been doing that since the dawn of time."
"Okay," Ethan said with a sigh. "So, who are you?"
The man shrugged, "You don't know? You can't see with your own eyes who I am?"
"We look to be related," Ethan replied.
"Indeed we are. Ethan, I am your father. Well, sperm donor anyway. I does my heart good to see that you didn’t turn out like me. I was a right and proper bastard, and there is no excuse for what I did to your mother, and all the other women. But, that isn’t the limit to my sins. I murdered with impunity. I justified it with telling myself that I was just following orders, but I know that was wrong. I knew that I had a choice. We always have a choice, even if it is your own death. But, unlike this German fellow, I knew right from wrong. He just liked killing, and that’s the difference between him and I. Though, my crimes will mean that it will take many many lifetimes of this torment before I can be judged, and in the end I might still end up like him.”
Ethan didn't know how to respond. This was the man that had tortured his mother and here he was in the flesh. But, try as he may he couldn't find it in himself to hate the man. Maybe it was because of the situation he was in. Or perhaps without him Ethan wouldn't exist. "So, why am I here?" Ethan asked.
"How the hell should I know?" His father replied as he kneeled down next to a union soldier laying face down, and rolled him onto his back. "Oh no, you don't belong here!" He said in a shaky voice.
Underneath the Union soldier was a young girl no older than five or six. Her hair was worn in a pair of blonde braids that fell over a white and pink dress. She was clutching a well loved teddy bear. Ethan's father scooped her up into his arms, and with a rag in his pocket he wiped the mud and blood from her face.
"Papa?" She asked blindly in a French accent.
"Shhh child. It'll be alright now," his father said in a shaking voice. "We'll get you to where you belong." There was tenderness in his father that Ethan was shocked to see, and now he could see how this man could be redeemed.
A Valkyrie swooped over head and landed neatly next to them with a rush of horrid air. She wore something like a soft white toga. From the belt on her waist was a golden sword, and she had a shield slung over her back.
His father offered the child to the Valkyrie which she took gratefully. With a sweep of her right hand the little girl was whole and clean as she had been in life. The Valkyrie spread her wings and shot skyward without a word and disappeared into the haze.
“Well, that’s something,” Ethan said. “What’s your name?”
His father stopped in his tracks, and thought about the question with his back turned to Ethan for a moment. “That is not an honor that I deserve. It isn’t a place to give you my name.”
“I didn’t intend to take up your name,” Ethan replied. “But, I feel like I deserve to know where I come from.”
His father remained silent for a moment as he returned to his work. Ethan had to jump out of the way for the cart as the horse continued to follow his father. After a couple of minutes he turned to Ethan and sighed, “You’re right you do deserve to know. My name’s James Calloway, but don’t go thinking you have a right to call me dad. Your father is Milo Talon.”
Ethan nodded silently, and then spoke, “Da… James my wife is pregnant with twins. You are a grandfather, and we intend to name them Diana and Arthur. Trinity’s due at any time.”
James smiled, “It seems I have done more good in my life than I thought. That’s worth something. Now, it’s time for you to return to the world of the living.”
---------
Ethan sucked in air with a gasp. His lungs burned from not having a proper breath in some time. He coughed and his chest ached like the devil. Slowly his surroundings started to coalesce. He was staring up at a white tiled ceiling, and lying in a bed of sorts. There was a buzz of four or five overlapping voices, one of which he made out to be Trinity’s and another to be Tess Ryder. “Oh, I feel like shit,” he groaned.