Keep Running (Killjoy)

24

D.A.'s POV:
The debris-covered landscape surrounding me was colorless and gray. I had no idea where I had gone, but there wasn't any hint as to where or what the place was. My body was dead; where did my soul end up? Nothing horrible was happening and I didn't feel tortured, but there was no glorious light that filled me with happiness. This left me to believe this place was some sort of a version of Purgatory. The only sound present was a slight breeze blowing around the empty area. A dusty road was before me while piles of the debris piled up on both sides of the walkway. Curious to see where it'd lead me, I began taking steps towards where I guessed there was something for me to see.

It was then that I took notice of my change in appearance. My skin was smooth and deathly pale, contrasting greatly from the new blackness of my hair. My fingers reached around to feel that it was in two neat buns on the sides of my head. I was also wearing a vintage-style dress where the ruffled skirt was so long that it brushed against the ground as I walked. It was white with a tight, black corset over the top and puffy short sleeves over the tops of my shoulders. It was elegant and very much steampunk-style, different from what I had gotten used to in the era of the killjoys.

The sound of footsteps marching sounded along a short distance away from where I stood. Turning the corner, it was revealed to me that there was a massive group of people in the same type of garbs I was decked out in that walked together as a group towards me. Leading them was a woman with a gas-mask shielded face and a dress similar to mine, other than the massive fur collar sticking out behind her neck. Behind her stood two twin females with pin-straight, raven hair and masks that covered a portion of their faces.

"Hello there." The leading woman spoke collectedly.

"Hi. Where am I?" I responded, not being able to withhold my curiousity.

"This is a place between Paradise and Punishment. Souls that committed sins to protect others, or were simply between good and bad. I am Mother War, the cause for the actions of such souls." She explained.

"So I am dead?"

"Yes. We all have died and ended up here. You killed some people to save the lives of others, exactly the same reason as many current inhabitants of this place."

I nodded in understanding.

"These two twins are Fear and Regret- two of the mental thoughts that controlled the people here to act in their in-between ways." She introduced the two girls beside her.

They looked up at me expressionless, crossing their glove-covered arms loosely over their bodies in sync. Their clothes were knee-length dress versions of marching band outfits: plain black with silver buttons and embroideries across the center. It was uniquely beautiful to me and I was stunned at all of the sights in this unnamed place where the dead were collected.

"Let's walk, there's much to explain." Mother War directed me, gesturing toward the rest of the road.

We continued down the path while she answered my questions and told me about what went on here. Everyone had a position of some sort that they occupied and days were spent on strolls around the winding, junk-lined roads when we weren't in the main building. I was told that it was basically a monstrously large castle with rooms for each of the souls, elaborately decorated in the same classic fashion as all other things.

"How are the roles determined?" I questioned for the millionth time in the conversation.

"Once we return to the castle I will show you. It's a process where I look back on your life and see things you did that could place you in an individual position. Generally, each position is one-of-a-kind in the group." Mother War told me.

"That's cool. Do we ever get to see present-day life or something?"

"Occasionally. Depends on the role assigned to you and whether there is anyone you're interested in seeing."

"Okay."

Only a few minutes later were we at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the grand doors of the stony palace. The entire collection of souls marched forth into the building and dispersed to wherever they wanted while I waited for Mother War to assign me to a position. The twins followed closely behind her as she sat before a mirror, focusing deeply on whatever visions she could see. I wasn't able to see a single thing on the mirror and waited silently for her to speak.

"Ah, I believe I've got a fitting role for you." Her steady voice announced her return to me.

"Really? What is it?" I asked.

"The title shall be 'Felicity', the word for pleasure found in grace and polished finesse. Presented as a delicate pointe dancer, you will be the face of technical and fine things to people that resulted in their harm or in the harm of others. Your new attire will be in your room: number 497 on the seventh floor."

"Thank you. Is there anything else I should know?"

"There's a messaging device in your room that will be able to contact me if you need anything, as you are new here. There's also a recorded list of the names of people gathered here you may view from your room's monitor. And your current appearance will never change from now on, so whatever you do or don't consume will not be able to affect your body, as you don't have a tangible one. Those are the most important last bits of information." She finalized and waved a goodbye at me.

I thanked her once more and went out to search for my own place of residence, apparently on the seventh floor. An interesting place this was indeed, and I still wasn't sure whether to be pleased or disappointed in myself for landing here. And the roles people were given- certainly an unexpected feature of this dimension of the afterlife I entered. With the free time I had in my mind while venturing up the staircase, my thoughts returned to the people I left behind. My hopes were of them all moving on from my recent death and surviving through the battles against BL/Ind. But maybe even that was too much to ask for.