Ashes To Ashes

I

The barn was cold.
The hay he lay his head upon was slowly becoming red.
His breath was shallow, and it came in soft white puffs on the chilly air.
The boy stood above him, holding the gun and shaking. He was scrawny and slight, and despite the presence of a scraggly beard and a bulky uniform, there was no hiding his youth. His salt and pepper hair was matted with dust and leaves.
His lip quivered.
He was mouthing words.
I'm sorry. Brother o mine I am so, so sorry.

...

The doors were opening and closing rapidly, a rainbow of glowing rectangles in the blackness.
Men and women and children and bearded dragons were coming and going.
"Thank you for your patience."
Little girls off to become fire ants and little boys off to become pufferfish.
Men off to become women and women off to become men.
"Thank you for your patience. Please remain in the queue, and for maximum efficiency, maintain a single-file line."

It was a long, snaking single-file line indeed.
All manner of sentient creatures waited patiently, and they all wore the same empty expression plastered to their slack faces.
The doors changed colors, blinking through the entire color spectrum like a lottery slot machine.
Nobody said a word. Nobody barked, or meowed, or telepathically communicated a sound.
One by one, each individual shuffled through their respective doors as the universe mailed them off like parcels on a conveyor belt.
One of the doors, however, was stuck on the color red. It also appeared to be glitching around the edges of the frame.
"Thankfvm yov for your pat%nc$&*,"

...

His vision was blurring. If this was the end, then this was the end. Surely.
The young man above him kept his finger on the trigger. His eyes were wet.
He was mouthing the same words over and over again.
The same damn words over and over again.
Forgive me. Brother, forgive me.

He eyeballed the boy with the gun.
Coughing, he managed to slur a single sentence.
"Do your worst you son'a bitch... do your.."

It might have been hallucinations brought on by blood loss, or maybe death himself was speaking to him now, but he saw something flickering between him and his would-be assassin.
A faint monotone voice thanked him for his patience.
The boy moved his finger, and the gun made a clicking noise before the bullet erupted from the barrel.

...

The red door stretched and undulated.
If anybody saw, they never said a thing.
The voice overhead screeched and warped.
One by one, the individuals in line crossed over the thresholds. The red door violently stretched and flickered before vanishing completely. For a moment, all the doors were gone. The voice was no more. The line ground to a standstill.

Then, almost as quickly as everything had shut down, it started right back up again.
The doors popped back into existence. The voice hummed on.
No more glitching.
"Safe travels. Thank you for your patience. We look forward to seeing you again."