Nico awoke to a bright light shining in his face, the smell of beer and wine, and the sound of a slow country song playing over a radio.

He blinked and looked up at the pretty face of a auburn-haired woman.

She was tall and slender with carefully angled features, soft skin, and medium brown eyes. She held out a hand toward him.

“Welcome to the DCB,” she told him.

“The what?” he asked as he let her pull him to his feet.

She was tall, but shorter than him, even in her little black heels. She was quite slender and elegantly dressed, and even though Nico was no expert on woman’s clothing, he could tell that hers were expensive. Her pencil skirt and burgundy cashmere sweater looked like they’d been made to fit. Her hair was not a natural red, for he could see the brown regrowth coming through at her roots. Her natural colour sort of matched her eyes.

“The DCB,” she repeated. “I don’t actually know what it stands for. It’s just what the sign above the bar says.” She waved a hand toward what looked exactly like the back of a modern saloon.

The letters D C B were signposted in a dull gold right at the back in the centre. He looked around the rest of the room.

Several tables lay scattered. A game of darts stood in one corner. A pool table in another. Everything was made of wood, except for the red leather cushions on the bar stools and the green velvet of the pool table. There were no windows that he could see, but there were several doors.

“I’m Natasha Crimson.” She held out a hand.

Nico shook it even as he kept looking around. “Nico,” he replied. “Uh, Nico Bennett”

She smiled. “Would you like a drink? I recommend you do. You’ll probably want one in a sec anyway.” She spun and walked toward the bar.

“Do you work here?” Nico asked, still confused as to where he actually was and what had happened. The last thing he remembered was...

She laughed. It was a pretty laugh. “No, I’m like you.”

“Like me?”

She turned and gave him a sort of sad look.

“Dead,” she replied.

Nico accepted her drink.

“I like to think of it as the Dead Cunt’s Bar,” Natasha told him a little while later. “Although the last guy who was here didn’t like that name.”

“The last guy?”

“Yeah, but he left so I figure I can call it whatever I want.”

“He left?”

She nodded and then pointed to a door. It stood out among all the brown wood, seeing as it was the only one that was black. “He went out the door.”

Nico stared right at it. “He went out the door?”

She nodded again. “You can try it if you like. See for yourself.”

Nico wasn’t sure why but he felt apprehensive about it. It looked like a normal door, apart from being black of course. But the closer he got to it the more the feeling grew. It was a deep feeling of unease, like he wasn’t supposed to be here, as if the opening of that door represented some large decision that he could never come back from once it was made.

He backed away rapidly and took a seat, wide-eyed on the bar stool next to Natasha. He stared frozen at the door and waited for the feeling of terror to pass him by.

Natasha watched him curiously and then she spoke, “Mmm, so you can feel it too? Some can’t. I don’t know why. Over time the feeling might disappear, or it might not.”

“What is it?” Nico asked, finally tearing his eyes away. As he did so the feeling of horror faded into the background.

“I don’t know.” She glanced at the door, briefly, as if she dare not look too long. Then she met his eyes. “All I know is it scares me and I don’t want to go anywhere near it. I kind of can if I don’t think about it or focus on it too long. If I forget it’s there then I can walk right by. You’ll get used to it.”

“So, is this the afterlife?” Nico asked.

“Oh, who knows. I mean you’d think I would, given death is my area of expertise and all.”

He gave her a puzzled look. “Your area of expertise?”

She grinned. “I’m a necromancer. Or at least I was.” She waved a hand absently.

“Natasha the necromancer,” Nico mused.

“What were you?” She asked. “Normally I wouldn’t be so blunt but hey,” she gestured to their surroundings “It’s not like we’re in polite society anymore.”

“I’m an empath,” Nico told her. “But...” he hesitated and then frowned. For some reason he couldn’t feel her emotions.

“But you can’t feel anything from me?” Natasha guessed. She laughed gently at his puzzled expression and then explained. “There’re no powers here. They’re gone. Now you’re dead, what use for magic do you have?” She laughed again. “How would necromancy even work in the afterlife I wonder?” She seemed to ponder the question.

“So, you used to bring people back from the dead?” he inquired.

“Sometimes, if people called it in fast enough. You have to be quick you know. Within minutes if you want to do it without a sacrifice. It’s why a lot of necro guilds keep a teleporter on the books. Sometimes I’d get hired as a sort of body guard. A rich guest is dining with someone who might want to poison him. I’d go along and not eat the food but be ready just in case. Like the inverse of a taste tester. More often I’d do police work. They’d want to know who killed someone or they’d need a statement from a witness who unfortunately happened to be dead so I’d bring them back, just temporarily of course. Police paperwork for a revival is so slow that they’ve always been dead awhile. If you don’t put them back in the ground once you’re done then you end up with zombies, or worse, sometimes they’d just come back as ghouls.”

“Ghouls?”

She nodded. “Okay, so technically there’s some debate within the field of necromancy about which is actually worse, although if your professional necro is bringing back ghouls for anything but a really old body you should probably hire a new one. Zombies are more common but arguably more dangerous because they look like people for awhile, are people for awhile. You never know when the resurrection will fail. Sometimes it can be months. Technically a zombie is the result of a successful necromancy that runs out of juice, although we in the business would still say that’s a fail. What you get back is the real person, for a time but it doesn’t last. Ghouls are when the resurrection doesn’t even get that far. Almost always made by amateurs or corpses that are just too old. Ghouls sometimes look like the person, can even behave like the person, but they aren’t. They’re an imitation. Something else that crawled out of the... well out of somewhere else. They last longer but they’re tricksters. Easy to recognise for a professional, but much more dangerous for a novice. They’re faster, stronger, and they can shift their form somewhat. A zombie will catch you by surprise. A ghoul will do far worse.”

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Nico frowned. “So what are we? Ghosts?”

Natasha casually swirled her glass, then tilted it on its side, as if admiring the dark red colour. She shook her head. “Oh, no, I don’t think so. A ghost is what killed me. They exist in the real world. We’re”—she looked about the room—“somewhere else.”

“You were killed by a ghost?”

She nodded and sighed. “Of sorts. Cock up on my part. I bought a spirit trap that wasn’t as empty as I’d hoped.”

“A spirit trap?”

She nodded again and pursed then licked her lips thoughtfully.

Nico found himself momentarily distracted by the brief sight of her pink tongue disappearing back inside well-moistened lips.

“If you don’t have a necro on hand a spirit trap works almost as well. It doesn’t do the necromancy but it buys you time. Sometimes I’ll get called to a death and it’s been longer than they think and it turns out you need more sacrifices and by the time that’s sorted it’s been too long anyway. The number goes up exponentially you see. There’s always a point where we just call it. A spirit trap essentially preserves the spirit, gives you time to round up more sacrifices and whatever other ingredients are needed, sometimes healers as well, and maybe even a mindwalker. A resurrection doesn’t fix a broken body unless you do it a very specific way, and even if you get the body back sometimes the mind isn’t all there. Death is traumatic after all.” She paused and gave him a curious look. Then she sighed and continued. “Spirit traps are rare though. All sorcerer made and they’re so coy with their knowledge. If you aren’t one of them then you aren’t worthy of knowing. But I got a beat on one. Got a friend to track it down and retrieve it for me. I just didn’t expect it to be occupied.”

She was silent awhile. They both were. Then she glanced slyly at him. “You’re dying to ask I can tell. Go ahead. I don’t mind the questions. I’ll tell you about mine if you tell me about yours.”

Nico smiled. Of all the things he had expected from death, this was not it. She was flirting with him. He could tell even without the use of his powers. The problem was, his memories felt vague and blurry, as if he was looking at them through water... Now that he thought about it, he remembered water, lots of water. And fear, he had felt fear, but it hadn’t been his own.

While he waited for the details to come back he asked his question. “How does a ghost kill someone?”

“It fights you for your body. It rarely works, but this was a strong spirit. Even then, she may not have been able to take the body but she did manage to kick me out. I kind of hope she did take it. It was a nice body. It would be such a waste if no one got it.” She pouted, took a sip of her wine, and then shot him another flirtatious glance.

He couldn’t help himself. He ran his gaze down and then back up the full length of her, from her long slender legs right up to her smile and warm brown eyes that looked directly at him. But memories tugged at his mind. Memories he needed to face. With a frown he turned to look down at his drink. She’d made him a whiskey sour and it was actually a pretty good one. When he glanced back up at Natasha she was giving him a sympathetic look.

“Do you remember what happened yet? It takes awhile sometimes I think. Took me awhile.”

He nodded and he closed his eyes. He got the feeling the more he focused on remembering the faster he would know what had happened. He wanted to focus on Natasha’s company fully and he couldn’t do that with unknown memories lurking in the back of his mind. He needed to confront them.

“We were diving,” he started. “A group of us, in a cave. It’s what I did a lot of, cave diving and adventuring. But I got stuck in a tunnel. They were going to get help but something went wrong... I couldn’t see what happened but I could feel it. I could feel their fear and something else, an overwhelming hunger.” He glanced at Natasha again. She was watching him with all her attention.

He closed his eyes and remembered more.

“They left for awhile. I could only feel two of them then, the girls. Triss and Odessa. They must have gone through to another part of the cave because I could still sense them but it was faint like they were further away. Their fear was so strong though. I had to fight myself not to just let it overwhelm me.

Then she came back, just Odessa. I could still feel Triss. I could feel pain, like she was hurt. And Odessa was getting closer. Afraid. Desperate. And out of air. I could sense that raw need.

I already knew I was dead. From the moment I felt the fear and that thing. There was something else out there. Not a witch, or a human, not chikari, or vampire, or werewolf, but something else. It didn’t feel like a person. I mean, it kind of did but it was off, more primal.

It was her. The old lady. I’m sure of it now. We misjudged. I don’t know what she was or what happened but I knew I wasn’t getting out. And I knew Odessa needed my air. Not all of it. But enough. There wasn’t enough for both of us.

My sister, Triss, she does cave rescues. Her and her dad... used to. One time I was there when we picked her up after a rescue. She’d pulled some guy out of the water who’s buddy had had something go wrong. People panic underwater you know, sometimes they put others in danger doing so. Well, this guy’s buddy, he panicked and he tried to take his friend’s air. His friend fought back and killed him. It was self defense, if he hadn’t done it they’d both be dead, but I remember how he felt. Triss had never let me come on rescues before that and that day I understood why. The way that guy felt, there was no relief at being alive, he was just wrecked. I’ve never felt so much guilt in my life.

I didn’t want Odessa to feel that. I knew if she got there and found me still alive and stuck she might not go up straight away, or she’d try it without air and she never would have made it, or maybe she would have just taken the tank, and she wouldn’t have been wrong to do so. There wasn’t enough for both of us. But how would she have felt? Probably the same as that guy had and I still would’ve been dead. I didn't want them to die trying to save me. So I made the choice for them. Just before she got there I took my regulator out. And then I woke up here.”

He looked at Natasha. She was wiping her eyes.

When she noticed his glance she replied. "Shit, I'm sorry. It's been awhile since anything's made me tear up. Before I got here even. I did have a couple of wines before you arrived but still that sure is one hell of a death.” She paused to take a breath. Then she asked with a strained smile, “Do you want another drink?"

He considered it. "Maybe later?" He gave her a more relaxed smile back. Somehow telling his story had made him feel a little lighter. He hoped Odessa had gotten out. He hoped Triss was okay. He hoped she would forgive him. Maybe, if the existence of this place was anything to go by, he would one day see her again? He had so many questions.

"So, what is this place. I know you said you don't know but you also said you'd been here awhile. You said there had been others?"

Natasha refilled her glass from a bottle sitting just behind the bar and then she nodded.

“Anyone named Rhys or Donny or Bob?”

Natasha cocked one neatly trimmed eyebrow. “Friends of yours?”

Nico nodded. “Yeah.”

Natasha shook her head. “No, sorry, but I do know not everyone who dies comes through here. It’s all a bit random. This place too, and it’s big, lots of doors. They move around as well.”

“Where do they lead?”

Natasha flashed him another of her little mysterious smiles. “It varies. I found a spa one day. A library another, several different libraries in fact, one with barely any lighting and strange growls coming from behind the bookcases, I didn’t go into that room very far. Another day I found what looked like an entire jungle. There’s also a bunch of bedrooms. There’s a whole world in here and I don’t really comprehend the nature of it. I’ve explored a little. The doors mostly stay where they are once you go through them... so far at least, and I’ve found if you’re looking for a specific room you tend to find it, although it’s not always where you left it. Then again some rooms I’ve only encountered once. I don’t suppose you were expecting to find more adventure in the afterlife were you?”

“No, but I’ll take it. And maybe the others will turn up eventually.”

His reply made her smile.

"So, what do we do now?" Nico asked.

"Whatever you like," Natasha replied.

He started to glance toward the black door but then he stopped himself. He didn’t want to look at that. “I suppose we could wait a bit. Maybe someone else will turn up? Or we could go exploring in the meantime. Have a little jungle adventure?” He gave her his most dashing smile, one that promised just a little heart-stopping danger. The fun kind.

“I’ll admit, I’ve never really been much of one for the outdoors, but perhaps you can change my mind.” Her gaze traced his body from head to foot and back up, much like he had done to her earlier. “That said, first I have another idea. A different kind of adventure.” She hopped delicately down off her chair and gave him her own heart-stealing smile. She offered him her hand and as slow music started to drift out of the speakers she asked, "Would you like to dance?"