"Who are you?" She smirked and flipped her white hair back, her night colored dress ruffling as she moved, brushing her knees as her emerald eyes burrowed into me.
"I'm the Teller."
"The Teller?" I asked, "What's a Teller?"
"I'm the truth, Mr. Gogh. Do you know where you are?" I flinched, the room I hadn't noticed was just small enough for us to both stands in comfortably.
"No, where am I, what is this?" Her smirk rose gooseflesh on my arms.
"You're in limbo."
"Wait...I'm dead?" She closed her eyes, nodding before opening her eyes and watching me again, unblinking.
"Yes, and It's my job to get you out of limbo."
"Why?"
"Because I'm the Teller" she brushed her hair back from her eyes. "Walk with me" it wasn't a question. She walked past me and down a long hallway I hadn't noticed, I followed.
"Where are we going?"
"You'll see Mr. Gogh, may I call you Vincent?"
"Uh...yes, but what did you mean that you're the truth?" I asked, she didn't look back at me.
"The people that come here are broken Vincent, they're dead, but something ties them to their lives. It keeps them from moving forward. The only solution to that is learning about what ties them to their life, no matter if it's good or bad,"
"How do you know what has me tied to my life?"
"I'm the Teller, as soon as I see you, I know" I reached out and brushed my hand against the wall, moving my hand around the paintings that I just noticed had started to materialize in my way.
"So why am I here?" I asked
"In time you'll know," she said, I shook my head, she was beautiful, but there was something colder to her.
"Where are we now?"
"A museum,"
"Museum?" I asked
"It's a place to display fine art, centuries old," she said
"Well, what are we doing here?"
"You'll see, oh, this one is my favorite," she said stopping to look at a painting, I glanced at it and felt my heart leap into my throat.
"That's,"
"Starry Night, by Vincent Van Gogh," she said, I felt my eyes sting as I ran my finger down the edge of my painting.
"What is this?" I asked, looking to her, it was hard to see her through the tears in my eyes.
"Vincent, you painted throughout your whole life, but no one ever cared for your work. No one bought it, but you still painted," she said
"You said we're in a place of fine art?" I asked
"Your name and your work will ring through humanity for as long as humans take breath. People will recreate this painting a hundred times over, in your style, with you in mind. You may never have gotten the recognition in life that you deserved, but in death, you will be legendary," I couldn't see straight anymore, it hurt to breathe, everything was warm.
"How are you feeling?" She asked
"I can't believe it," I said, feeling her wrap around me, hugging me.
"Your life, is one that will always be remembered, be happy for that,"
"What happens now?" I asked, feeling the warmth spreading to my limbs
"Now, you fade, and go to whatever lies beyond,"
"You don't know what that beyond is?"
"No, I'm the Teller, Limbo is my home, and I have a few other people to take care of," she said, she was warm, and then she, Starry Night, and the hallway around me faded into white oblivion.
