The shimmering field of blinding light that had engulfed the doorway through space began to fade. The first thing she felt was something cold touching her feet, only to realize she had feet! And legs. And waist, torso, and arms. Her body was back, and her normal sense of touch with them. She was even wearing the same clothes she had remembered going to bed in!
‘Whew… Well, that’s a relief. I thought I’d become some sort of disembodied ghost or something. But I wonder…’
She was restored, it seemed, and her mobility had returned to her, minus the numbness and pain from before. Actually, all things considered, Lauren felt…fine. Better, even, than she’d in a long while even before the incident.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” came the voice of the Administrator, who Lauren found hovering before her. She couldn’t see anything that looked like an eye in its form, but she could still tell it was looking her over. “Eff Why Eye, this isn’t actually your body. The space you’re in right now is reacting to your subconscious need for one, and has recreated it accordingly so that your thoughts won't be distracted.”
“I…see,” Lauren remarked, lifting her hand in front of her face and wiggling her fingers. Seemed real enough, and so was the feeling of relief that it gave her to have that familiarity. “That being said…”
She looked around, then, at where she was. It wasn’t a place she had ever been to, but it was recognizably similar to a hospital waiting room, complete with plush armchairs, benches, a coffee table, and a table with several magazines. At the far end of the room, a small podium rose.
“I think I’m plenty distracted…” she continued, and slowly started making her way around, picking up some of the reading material.
The magazine was called afterLife, and the cover article depicted a middle-aged man she didn’t recognize posing. Beneath, the caption read ‘Sexiest Deadman in the Underworld’.
‘...Seriously? ……wow…’
“Ahem,” the Admin’s voice was right over her shoulder. She put the magazine back and turned to face it. “Have a seat. We have a lot to cover and I’m on the clock.”
Lauren obeyed, following her strange little benefactor to the seating area. The time for being bewildered was long past. Now she was just rolling with everything, which made her grow bolder.
“So,” she started, plopping unceremoniously into one of the cushy armchairs. She resisted the urge to bounce in them a little, and went on, “This is the Edge of Creation, right? How did I get here, anyway?”
“As I already said, you were already here. Everyone that ever was, is, and will be are, in fact, here, and at the same time not.”
‘Ugh, not this again…’ Lauren regretted asking immediately.
“As for why you are conscious of it, that has to do with the fact that you died. You do remember that you died, correct?”
Lauren nodded, “I got that part. So then, is this the afterlife?”
The Admin was silent for a moment as if pondering to itself. “More like Limbo, if I am using the terminology of your people correctly. When an entity dies, they wind up here, though, generally speaking, they aren’t usually aware of it. You’re a bit of a special case.”
“Special how?” Lauren puzzled over this revelation. Her life didn’t stand out by any means, so she very much doubted that she was being rewarded for some sort of grand deed or accomplishment.
“Consider the cause of your recent fate,” the ball of light answered. “Not so much the whole fall-down-the-stairs bit, but rather, the events that led up to it so to speak.”
Lauren tried to recall what she had been doing before waking up on the hallway floor, but everything about that incident was fuzzy. She didn’t even remember falling. She didn’t even remember getting out of bed in the first place. But she did remember one thing.
“Chest pain,” she offered, “I was…having chest pain and it woke me up. Usually, when that happens, I go downstairs…”
“Correct. So far, so good. But that isn’t the only health problem you have been having lately, is it?”
‘That’s an understatement…’ she sighed inwardly. In the past year alone, she’d had to go to the doctor at least half a dozen times for various problems she’d been having.
“Heart palpitations, muscle fatigue, lethargy, several bouts of insomnia. You also have an eating disorder, which is why you’re underweight. Not to mention the self-imposed seclusion and your overall lack of ambition and motivation.”
The Admin was listing off her symptoms like a physician reading them from a chart, and each one felt like a knife in the back of her head.
“I get it…” Lauren half-groaned, half-hissed. “What’s your point?”
“Do you know the cause of those problems?”
She drew in a long breath, then gave a disdainful chuckle, “Depression. Anxiety. PTSD. Grief. Guilt. Regret. Take your pick, I got more. Pretty sure my list of problems is longer than my resume at this point.”
“Because of what happened to you six years ago, yes?”
Lauren felt her blood run cold, and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Even just these few words were enough to conjure the sound of the engine’s hum into her mind, and the presence of faceless, but familiar forms. She could hear people talking, but she couldn’t make out the words, and the gentle warmth of someone’s cheek resting against her shoulder.
But then, the dynamic shifted. A woman screamed. The air caught in her throat. The feeling of stability vanished, replaced with the sudden thrust of inertia. Up. Right. Down again. She felt for the hand that had only moments ago been resting in her own and tried to squeeze it, but there was nothing to grasp. It had slipped away and was now beyond her reach.
And then it was over. And everything was gone…
When she opened her eyes, Lauren was back in that strange, office-like room. She’d had that dream before many times, but never had it felt so real as it had just now. Not since the first time she woke up from it, lying in a hospital bed.
Something cold traced down her cheek. Tears. And here she thought that she’d cried them all out long ago.
Throughout the whole episode, the Admin had remained silent, as if studying her reaction. Now that she’d regained her composure, it spoke again. “They all died, right? Your parents, as well as your younger sister. Meanwhile, you miraculously survived, but were badly injured. A concussion, several broken bones, and a pierced lung. Had the emergency services been even a bit slower, you might’ve died with the rest of your family.”
Lauren swallowed, clenching her jaw. “Why…?” she whispered at first. She was visibly shaking, and she brought her gaze up to meet the shimmering orb floating overhead, her voice transgressing into a growl, “Why are you doing this?”
“Because it's time for you to move on.”
Lauren felt something snap, and her voice pitched high into a cracked yell, “You think I haven’t been trying?! What the hell do you think I’ve been doing for the past six years, huh?! You think it's easy to just ‘get over’ something like that?! I lost everything I had to some asshole that thought it was just dandy to drive home intoxicated! He took my family from me! I’m glad he died, too! I wish he would’ve suffered for what he did! I’m glad, do you hear me?! I hate him! I hate everyone!!”
Afterward, she devolved into weeping, choking out the words again. “I hate…everyone…” It was the same thing she’d said over and over. Every time she saw a new therapist, some of her sorrow vanished, and fury took its place. Now rage was all she had, and she clung to it in place of the hand she could no longer hold.
“I’m sorry,” the Admin replied after some silence, “But I’m afraid you don’t have a choice. The life you knew is gone now. You can’t go back there.”
“Good,” Lauren rasped through a chuckle, then snorted. In her mind, though, she felt a little relieved. ‘It's finally over…’ she thought, ‘I don’t have to feel like that anymore. I don’t have to listen to all those fake, heartless people calling me a parasite or trying to use me for their benefit. No more doctors. No more therapy. No more…anything…’
“Indeed, it’s time to take the next step!” the Admin continued chipperly, clearly not reading the room.
“...what do you mean?” Lauren queried. Was that not it, after all? Were all those religions right and there was something beyond the veil of death? ‘Is this…some sort of divine judgment? Is this the guy that decides whether I get to go to heaven or I’m sent down to hell?’
“Here’s the thing Miss—er, Lauren: you’re dead, and according to the System’s parameters, you are unable to return to the world from whence you’ve just come. But I’m happy to say that it isn’t over for you! You have a special opportunity: the chance to start all over again in a brand new world where you’ll be able to live a fulfilling life!”
Lauren stared at the Admin, her lips parted as if to say something, but nothing came forth. For its part, the hovering sphere seemed somewhat disappointed that there wasn’t more of a reaction to its pomp and circumstance.
“Did you hear me just now? I said you get another chance! Isn’t that exciting?”
“I…” she fumbled, not knowing where to start. “Can you…maybe, explain that…please?”
“A little slow on the uptake, are we?” the Admin responded after a pause, “Well, the thing is, when you died, you were carrying a lot with you—unfulfilled desires, unresolved trauma, that sort of thing. And when that happens, it weighs down your soul. When those who carry such Burdens come to the Edge of Creation, it tends to…upset a certain balance, which, in recent epochs, has grown a little out of control. So, a number of us Admins got together and decided to apply a sort of hotfix. By allowing those who carry such burdens a second chance at a peaceful, happy, and fulfilling life, we lift those burdens from their soul, thus restoring the balance!”
Again, Lauren stared blankly at the Admin. Her brain was still trying to process everything. ‘Admins, Systems, Hotfixes…is this just some weird technological allegory, or…?’ At least that was something she understood. Programming and coding had been the only thing that ever got her mind off of the stress in her past life.
“Alright,” she said, once again deciding to just go along with it. “So then…how does this work?”
“I’m so glad you finally asked!” the Admin was starting to get excited again. “It's actually a very simple process, and it all starts with that book right over there!”
Despite a lack of appendages, the Admin was able to motion in the direction of the podium that Lauren had observed when she first entered the room. A book sat atop it, seeming to have eluded her notice before if indeed it had even been there.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Lauren stood at the Admin’s beckoning, and made her way over, looking at the object in question. The book itself was comically large with what must be several thousand pages within its bindings, and was embossed with a strange combination of letters, numbers, symbols, and circular lines. It reminded her very much of a magical tome or spellbook one might come across in a video game.
“What is it?” she hovered over it with suspicion, as if it might grow jaws and eat her.
“That is the Bug Rep—I mean,” the Admin paused briefly to clear its ‘throat’, “We call it the Book of Destiny. By logging your name in the pages, along with goals you want to fulfill in your next life, the System will begin the process of transmigrating your soul into a new body, and you’ll have the chance to live a new life free of the weight you are carrying.”
“...reincarnation?”
“In a way, yes,” the Admin bounced a little in affirmation. “You can even include a little wishlist, too, if you like, though of course, it isn’t a guarantee that you’ll get everything you asked for, it depends on how much karma you have built up from your previous life.”
“Yeah right, I better have a truckload then,” Lauren scoffed, finally braving the act of touching the book. After all, what did it matter? She was dead. What’s the worst that it could do to her?
Doing so immediately made it fly open, which of course caught Lauren off guard, and page after page zipped by. She could see writing, but everything was moving too fast to read.
“What if I’m not really sure what I want?” she remarked, waiting for the book to reach the end.
“That’s okay!” the Admin assured her, coming to hover just over her shoulder. “Many before you have felt that way, but as I said, much of the process is automated by the System. If you put down nothing, the book will decide upon the parameters based on a default template and grant you the benefits that best suit your new situation!”
‘The perfect model life, huh…?’ Lauren frowned. ‘I guess it’d be interesting to see what that’s like if nothing else. What did they call it in my world?
“Living the Dream,” she said under her breath. ‘Though I guess people I knew usually used that as a sarcastic euphemism.’
“Did you say something?” the Admin seemed not to hear her.
Lauren shook her head and turned back to the book. It was slowing down, and she was beginning to make out some of the entries. There were about a dozen entries per page, and they were chronicled according to the date that it was signed.
‘Human dates,’ she noted, finding that fact conspicuous. Why would a system created and maintained by these otherworldly administrators use a human measure of time?
Eventually, the book flipped to an empty page and finally came to rest. Well, mostly empty. Several lines were already filled out and ready for her:
Lauren Dreyd
Details: 22 Years Old, Female
Origin: E4R7H, Sector 50130
Cause of Death: Lethal Head Trauma
Burden Level: Despair (-4)
Karma Restitution: 999
After this, there was a line for her to sign, as well as a box to the right where she could make her ‘wishlist’, though the System called them ‘Appeals’.
“Just sign your name here, and your new life will begin!” the Admin was practically cheering now.
Lauren stared at the entry and felt irritation welling in her chest. ‘They actually have a system to quantify someone’s suffering…’ she seethed inwardly, ‘That’s kinda sad, really… in the end, my misery was just a number in someone’s book.’
She could probably get angry about this, but she doubted that the Admin would give her the reaction she was looking for. She doubted it even had any concept of what it was like to suffer. It spoke and reasoned like a person, but its personality was predictable, almost like it had been programmed.
She spent a good amount of time invested in this endeavor, much to the agony of her benefactor, who had begun to ‘pace’ back and forth behind her. As it turned out, the System and the process of choosing your next life was a bit more complicated than the Admin seemed to want to admit, but Lauren wasn’t about to let it keep anything from her, not when this was quite likely the only chance she would have to ever do something like this.
It took some convincing, but she managed to talk it into reluctantly giving her permission to look back at previous entries for inspiration on what to put down. This proved entertaining for a time, but overall less interesting than she imagined. People, it seemed, were pretty boring and predictable.
Eventually, the lack of anything compelling to be found within started to drag, and Lauren’s mind began to wander off to other lines of thought.
Specifically, she wondered how Burdens were classified. Lauren’s level of Burden, Despair (-4) appeared to be the lowest number in the hierarchy, at least based on the entries she had skimmed, being reserved for those with some sort of severe trauma. The Burden above this was Agony (-3), and then above that, Misery (-2); these were among the most common of those who had signed before her, and usually were split between traumatic experiences and a mix of bad luck in life.
The ‘least’ level of Burden, which was listed as Yearning (-1), seemed to be reserved for people who had died early in life, or that seemed evident enough from the causes. People who didn’t get the chance to be happy unfairly. If that was the case…
A thought occurred to her, and Lauren began flipping back through the book much faster. Unlike before, however, she wasn’t looking for inspiration, but something far more specific.
Back through the pages she flipped, until finally she found the date that she was looking for: December 16th, 2023. That was the day that had changed her life forever.
She sifted through the names until she lit on one name that made her draw in a sharp breath.
Oscar Dreyd
Details: 46 Years Old, Male
Origin: E4R7H, Sector 50130
Cause of Death: Fatal Vehicular Accident
Original Burden Level: Yearning (-1)
Initial Fulfillment Value: 57 / 100
Final Fulfillment Value: 87 / 100
Status: Passed On
Lauren swallowed, hard, then turned to the Admin, pointing at the fifth line under the name, “What does this mean?”
“Ah!” the Admin seemed pleased to answer a question after the long silence, “Fulfillment Value is a metric we use to gauge the amount of burden relieved from a soul after they have lived their reincarnated life. Anything under an FV of seventy-five is considered an unacceptable amount of Burden, which is what qualifies someone for reincarnation.”
“So this person was…unhappy with their current life?”
The Admin paused, seeming to realize the connection, but elaborated, “Not necessarily, but as the death occurred early in one’s life, unfulfilled dreams and things wanted are calculated as Burdens by the system. Had he lived on, he might’ve achieved the required FV to be considered fulfilled.”
“I see…” Lauren’s response was dour, and she turned away from the ball of light lest she reveal her true reaction. She was, of course, happy to know that her father had found happiness in his second life and was now at peace, but she couldn’t deny that there was a part of her that was angry that she wasn’t a part of that happiness.
She read on.
Amelia Dreyd
Details: 42 Years Old, Female
Origin: E4R7H, Sector 50130
Cause of Death: Fatal Vehicular Accident
Original Burden Level: Yearning (-1)
Initial Fulfillment Value: 68 / 100
Final Fulfillment Value: 95 / 100
Status: Passed On
‘So mom ended up in a happy life, too…’
Lauren swallowed again. ‘Stop it,’ she scolded herself, ‘Don’t be like that. Be happy for your mom and dad. They went to a better place. Being angry at them for that is childish.’
There was one more entry still waiting for her.
Eden Dreyd
Details: 11 Years Old, Female
Origin: E4R7H, Sector 50130
Cause of Death: Fatal Vehicular Accident
Original Burden Level: Yearning (-1)
Initial Fulfillment Value: 34 / 100
Pending Fulfillment Value: 2 / 100
Pending Burden Level: Tortured (-5)
Net Burden Level loss exceeds parameters.
Scheduled for System Purge
Lauren’s heart lept into her throat. She stared wide-eyed at the entry. ‘Tortured?! Purge?! What does that mean?!’
“Ah, yes…” the Admin’s voice elicited as if on cue. “That is your younger sister, yes? Unfortunately, it would seem that her present state is that of a severe improvement deficit. At this point, I’m afraid that if things continue as they are, she’ll…” The voice of the Admin trailed off.
Lauren clenched her teeth so tightly that they began to creak, her voice dropping to a growl, “She’ll what?”
Once more, there was hesitation, and only now did the Admin understand its folly in letting her look back at old entries. It sighed, defeated, and relented.
“...those whose Fulfillment Values fall below 0 are considered a lost cause and unsalvagable. As a result, they are…discarded.”
The room fell more silent than ever before, though the seething feeling inside Lauren’s chest was palpable. It was taking every bit of her willpower to keep herself from exploding right then and there.
“I thought you said that this was supposed to help people lead better lives? To find happiness? If that’s so, then why is my sister now worse off than before?!”
“I’m afraid I do not know,” the Admin replied, maintaining its composure despite the situation, “I am not privy to the lives of souls once they leave this place. I can only surmise that the circumstances of the world she was born into made it somehow impossible for her to find the fulfillment she desired, whatever that might have been. I assure you, this is a very rare occurrence, it seldom happens—”
Lauren was trembling. The only thing that the Admin’s explanation did was further enrage her, and her mind spun.
Then, suddenly, she let out a breath and spoke in a sullen voice. “Send me there.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“There,” she pointed at her sister’s entry. “Send me to where you sent my sister.”
“Well, that is possible, but…”
“Don’t you dare ‘but’ me!” Lauren hissed, whipping around furiously. “My sister—my sweet little sister—is in danger of being ‘discarded’! Obviously, your little System screwed up, and if you won’t do anything about it, then I will!”
The Admin let out a sigh, “I can submit a special inquiry on your behalf, which will require that I escalate this issue up the chain for approval. Be warned, however, that if it is, then the System will prioritize this request above all others, which means you may very well lose some of the freedom of choice in your next life.”
“I don’t care,” Lauren huffed, now turning to face the Admin. “I spent six years of my life wishing that I had died alongside her. I might as well have been a walking human zombie up until now. But if I have a chance to get her back… to save her, and help her live a happy second life… If I could do that, then maybe…”
Lauren fell silent. The Admin did too. Then, it simply sighed.
“Very well then.”