Retracing my steps, I followed the blue signs:

EXIT: PARADISE

They were upside-down, but they traced a coherent path.

The more I walked, the more I doubted the reality of the situation. I separated from my shadow, allowing it to advance in advance.

Since it had no body, the shadow reached the end of the path in a few moments. On the ceiling was an upside-down staircase.

The staircase went deeper into the structure, along a corridor of blue and pink tiles.

It was lit by pink neon, and my shadow could not proceed.

I reached the shadow, and as it merged with my body, I felt a strange vertigo. The buzz of the fluorescent lights hurt my temples, and I couldn’t keep my eyes fully open.

It didn’t take me long to realize that the light was draining my magical flow. I tried to back away from the first step but stopped a few feet away.

Looking around, I could see the pillars, the pipes, and the parking lot lines. I was too far from the edge to see the sky and the sunset.

My breathing became blurry, and I felt ashamed.

I, the mighty Malcavissa, subjugated by the forces of nature. Be they a soundless wind or a magical light.

I kicked the ground.

I had no choice.

Either I went down, or I remained wandering in that parking lot.

I was humiliated. I felt frustrated. The desire for revenge grew in me.

I would have made those wretches pay. Once I returned to the living world, I would send them to that land.

Motivated by anger, I returned to the first step. Leaning against the wall, I descend, defying fatigue and pain.

After two flights of stairs, I pressed the panic bar of an upside-down fire door. I entered a dark room, but my feet were on the checkerboard floor.

The door slammed shut, and then silence returned. A faint scent of vanilla mingled with that of incense.

I took a step into the darkness, and lights appeared. Swaying flames in the candles of the chandeliers, oil lanterns on the walls, and a few tripods holding other lanterns gave the room a warm and dark color.

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The room was large, resembling the aisles of a hypothetical department store. However, the furniture was made of fine, dark wood and worked with the opulent taste of the previous century.

Even more curious was the nature of the objects stored on the shelves.

Toys. Mostly dolls, but also puppets, vehicles, dollhouses, building blocks, marionettes, scattered decks of cards, and boxes of board games. The sizes varied greatly and did not appear to be arranged in any order.

A single toy might be isolated on a shelf, while several piled up in others.

I wandered through the labyrinth for some time, looking for the stairs to the lower level.

I felt like walking through a natural history museum, especially in front of the closed glass cases. They contained only pieces of toys labeled with strings of text that were obscure to me.

I did not know, nor had I ever encountered the language of the dead. And yet, I was sure it was it.

I did not know what to feel. I had made countless trance-like journeys to get here.

Now that I had arrived, I was more disappointed than amazed.

Was this all I awaited after death?

It took me a while to realize that I was being watched. I am not saying toys were alive, but they weren’t dead, either. They sighed, chuckled softly, and watched me.

I noticed it thanks to my shadow, which captured their magic as it passed over those surfaces. It had not been an immediate process since my magical forces had been exhausted due to the light of the stairs.

Occasionally, shouts of joy or laughter seemed to come from other corridors.

Metal easels and tripods supported signs and chalkboards, but I couldn't see what they pointed to or what they indicated.

I continued like this until the corridors ended, opening in a circle around a blue floor containing the tessellation of a sea.

I realized that I was in the center of the labyrinth.

A multicolored light came from a wardrobe with polychrome glass doors. It illuminated a round iron table, on which was placed a large book and a game board. Pawns—soldiers of various shapes and colors—were scattered, along with dice and cards.

Two high-backed, perforated leather chairs flanked the table. In one of them, a girl-sized doll with long blue, purple, and white hair stared up at me, holding a steaming cup.

Her eyes were closed, her hair was ribboned, and her skin was porcelain dark enough to look like a glazed shadow. And maybe it was.

Alarmed by the possibility, I expand my shadow, ready to fight.

But the doll opened her eyes, smiled at me, and set the cup on the table.

I noticed she was holding a monstrous stuffed toy in her lap. It had the head of a zombie dog, its body a tangle of long, flaccid tentacles.

Kindly looking at me, the doll sat with her legs side by side, tilted to the side, and did not try to get up. With her freed hand, she adjusted the corset and knocked the dust off the skirt.

Then she smiled at me again, watching me with sweet glass eyes.

The light coming from the cabinet gave her countless colored reflections, and I found myself embarrassed to observe her.

“Welcome, Malcavissa. Your case is so funny. You have the possibility of choosing, you know? Would you like to sit with me for a while? So, we can talk about it.”

Pulled by invisible strings, I began to move. I didn't fight back, trying to analyze the situation.

Whatever was happening, I wasn’t sure if the power I had left was enough to give me control of the situation.

I sat down in the chair, and the doll closed its eyes, smiling.

The tension of the invisible strings loosened, and I started to speak.

But the lips wouldn’t open, and the doll put her hand to her mouth to hide her laughter.

“No, no, no. We are in the land of the dead. Here, the toys are alive, and the living are toys. You can no longer speak, sweet Malcavissa.”