The automatic doors of the Aldi slide open, revealing a perfectly clean and well lit store. From what I can see, the shelves are completely empty. The lights above are very dingy. They remind me of old fluorescent overhead lights that you see in office buildings sometimes. Despite the clean appearance of the store, the air is very dusty, and the smell of mildew hangs in the air. The beige-ish yellow walls make me feel nauseous. Like I'm in the backrooms.
"Do you have your membership card?" I immediately look at Shai, "You can't leave without your membership card."
"I told-"
"Yeah, I'm already over it," she turns towards the voice, not allowing me to gain the satisfaction, "What'd you just say?"
"You can't leave without your membership card," there's a guy sitting near one of the checkout lines in a work uniform. His name tag says Ali.
What's interesting though, is that his uniform isn't from Aldi. There's white, cursive lettering above his name tag that reads, "Steve's Shop'n Mart," a name that might make sense. Still not sure what the 'n part stands for.
Shai tilts her head, "What?" I try to open the door. It's turned into a regular push/pull door instead of the original automatic door, "Don't you mean we can't enter?"
"The door isn't opening," I push again and it doesn't budge.
"That's cuz it's a pull," the guy says.
"No, it does both."
"What?"
"It goes both ways," I keep pushing, but it doesn't work.
Shai sighs. She walks over to the door, and gives it a pull. It doesn't budge. She turns back to Ali, "So how do we get a membership card?" She asks.
"Well," Ali rubs his chin. I turn to face him, and await his response, "dunno."
"Yeah, why do you think he's still here?"
"Well," she shrugs, "he works here."
"She's right," Ali says, "I just work here."
"Are you guys hiring?" I ask.
Ali looks me up and down. I strike a pose, and then another, "Not you."
"I told you so."
"I'm over it," I lie through my teeth, "Anyway, what is there in here? It just looks empty."
"Pretty much is," he shrugs, "At least, this part of it is. I'm only allowed to stay here, but there's a bunch of rooms that might have stuff in them."
"How long have you been in here?" I ask.
He exhales for a couple of seconds, and thinks for a couple more, "No clocks. Don't know really. But I've been at this checkout counter for all of it."
"Do you... eat?" Shai asks, concerned.
He shrugs, "That's okay, I'm not hungry," I tilt my head, and Shai squints deeply at him, "Anyway, you should get moving. The manager's coming."
"Why's that? Why does the manager coming mean that we need to leave?"
Ali nods, "Yep, that's right. Don't let him near you."
"Hey-o! Ali, my man!" a voice echoes from somewhere and everywhere and nowhere at the same time, "Where'd you go, my man!"
Ali shrugs towards us, "Well, that's the manager. You should get out of here," he points down the isle closest to us, towards a steel door, "That looks important maybe. I don't know."
I nod slowly, and turn towards the door. Then, Shai and I start walking towards the door at a brisk pace.
"What do you think the big deal with the manager is?" I ask.
"How should I know? He didn't really seem to be that scary, except for the weird voice."
"Well I'm glad you heard it too. I thought I was just going crazy or something," we reach the door, and I pull on the handle. It doesn't budge.
"Maybe it's a push," she pushes, and it opens, "But I don't blame you for that one. It had a handle."
"Thanks... but I promise, the doors here go both ways," we walk in, and the door shuts behind us.
"Whatever," we're in a new room now, "This room's kinda... different," Shai points out.
It's just a cube of gray concrete. The walls are all the same as the ceiling and the floor, except for a red wooden door on the right wall.
"Which door should we choose then?" I ask.
"The red one's speaking to me," she takes a step towards it.
"Wait, wait, wait," somebody says. It's far too British and man-like to be Shai, "Just wait one second."
"Why?" Shai asks, "And who are you?"
"I suppose it would be polite to answer you," the voice answers, "But what I love so much about America is that I legally don't have to."
I salute, "Freedom!"
"Anyway," he continues, "Take this scavenger hunt," a black sheet of thick paper materializes in my hand.
"Huh. Is this card stock?" I give the paper a flick.
"Yes!" The voice laughs a little, "You're the first person to get that!" A strip of the paper turns white. There's text there that reads, 'Inquire about the paper quality.'
"Woah," Shai comes over to look, "Check that out," I show her the paper.
She gives me an unimpressed look, "Big deal," she turns and starts walking to the door. I follow behind.
"Good luck! There may be multiple items for you in each room. Or maybe not..." the voice fades out.
"I guess let's just go through the-" as Shai says this, she pushes down on the door handle, and the room changes. Or rather, it switches with another room.
Right now, we're standing in a rectangular room, about 15 feet by 10 feet. I'm standing over what looks like a pentagram surrounded by people, on their knees, in the same kind of uniform as Ali.
"The sacrifice!" One of them shouts. They all bow forward towards me in the center, "Oh great ancient ones! Accept our humble sacrifice!" The same one continues.
"Wait a second," I try to get my bearings. I look around the room. All of the people are face down towards me, "Look we can talk, you don't have to prostrate to me."
"You're being sacrificed and you wanna talk about prostates?!" Shai exclaims. She looks just as panicked as I feel.
"No it's a word - it's like-" I sigh, "it's not important- everyone listen to me!"
They all chant at the same time in response: "Be quiet, sacrifice! Let the tides of crimson change wash over you, and carry you out to sea. Give control of your body and mind to the powers that be."
Despite it being a pretty nice rhyme, it's very worrying for me. Suddenly, I get an idea. I can't die. Or rather, I probably can't die.
"I accept the ultimate power's right! Let him take me, let me feel his might," Shai throws her hands up and glares at me with a mixture of confusion and immense anger.
"What are you-?" She turns away and rubs her temples, "Why's shit like this gotta keep happening?"
"Show me the light of our gratuitous savior," I continue, "his love is so deep..." I can't find a rhyme for savior, "like a refrigerator."
"The divine power is a she," one of the cultists corrects.
"Don't be a dick, Sherry. He's obviously new," another one responds.
Sensing a fight about to break out, I continue, "I pray to thee-"
"That's fine, you don't have to keep going," another one interrupts.
"Oh? Okay good. I was running out of steam," I give a quick exhale, and clap my hands together, "So should we get to sacrificing?"
One of them gives a little nod with their head still down. "We will begin the ritual."
Shai is pacing over by the door, mumbling about how much she hates me and everything else. A hooded cultist stands up, and holds out a long knife with runes inscribed on the blade. He chants something in a language that is almost certainly made up, capping it off with, "And so let the blade and blood become one. In sacred worship, and devout care, this ritual is done," and he stabs me in the throat.
The dying experience is a lot different this time. When I got mauled by Mama before, when I got shot, and when my head got squeezed, it was all instant. So the fact that I'm not immediately dead is definitely different. Because I wasn't exactly lucid in the moments where I was bleeding out, I'm going to just describe what happened now, after the fact.
Everything started to fade in between blurriness and not. Like one moment, everyone around me was blurry, then the next they weren't. After probably a couple seconds of that, everything went full blurry. I couldn't really hear what they were saying, but I could make out their hands waving around in the air. It felt like I had earplugs in. Other than that, I just remember feeling pretty calm. The only things I could feel physically were the pain from the stab wound, and my heart.
And so now I'm in some kind of bar. It's dimly lit, and all of the seating and counters are dark reds and blacks. There's some demon kind of figure tending bar. He's got two long horns on the front of his head, and his skin's red, but other than that he looks like a normal human.
Oh, but he also has a tail. I saw it for the first time just now.
"Hello there," his tail waves to me, "New here?"
"Uhh," I scratch my head, "I guess so, yeah," I look around. There's a couple of ornate chandeliers evenly spaced on the ceiling, some people sitting in booths along the wall opposite of the bar, and two old guys arguing in German- maybe- by the pool tables, "What is this place?"
"Hell," he says, "and I'm Stan. Not Satan," he clears his throat, and points to a name tag that says Stan, "People get it mixed up all the time."
I kinda just stand there for a second. It's a lot to get my head around. I shake myself awake, walk to the bar, and take a seat, "I figured it would be more fire and torture than this."
"Most people do," he starts cleaning a glass, "People started spreading a rumor that all bad people go to hell. It's really bad for press, you know?"
"I would assume so," he shrugs in response, "So then where do all the bad people go? If not hell."
"Bad is a relative term. Could you elaborate more?"
"Like… genocide bad. Ethnic cleansing bad."
"Oh! Well, they go to what I like to call super hell," he points to the two German guys, "or, if you're Nietzsche or Freud - well, it's actually just super hölle in German," he rubs his chin, "super is a German word."
"Huh. Didn't know that," he smiles, "So there's multiple hells?"
"Oh yeah, a whole bunch. We greater devils take turns managing them all."
"Greater devils? There's more?"
"Well yeah. How many religions can you think of?" I'm overwhelmed by the question, so I just stumble over my words, "That's okay, I can't name 'em all either," he puts the glass down, and grabs another. Starts cleaning it, "Well each of those countless religions has a main demon figure- like me, Stan- who watches over their own version of 'hell', so to speak."
"That's heavy," I rub my forehead, "So every religion is real? And Satan is just a mistranslation?"
"All of them are real in a sense. Humans believed them into existence. And Stan is my real, Christian name. So to speak"
"Huh. Huh. Huuuuuuhhh," I can't really think of anything to say. It's just really strange.
"Do you want something to drink?"
"I would love a Shirley Temple," I'm very glad to be able to think of something else, "Do you have food?"
"I suppose," a Shirley Temple appears in a glass. Satan slides it over to me, "Although, you're not really supposed to eat in a bar."
"I'm kinda hungry though," I scratch my head.
"Well then what do you want?"
Overwhelmed once again by choice, I can't really think of anything. I was always bad at ordering at restaurants, and now that I haven't been able to prepare my order, I fell utterly lost.
"A bagel?" Satan suggests.
"S-sure. Asiago," I take a sip of my drink, "And can I have some of the whipped cream cheese?"
"Sure," he slides the bagel and cream cheese over on a napkin, "don't eat it too fast."
"Why?" I take a bite, "Is it some kinda weird hell thing?" I ask through a full mouth.
"No, you'll just get a stomach ache."
"Oh, okay. Thanks. I appreciate that, Satan- Stan. Sorry," he gives me a nod.
The door swings open, and I look over to see who it is. A naked woman with long blue hair covering her front steps in.
"Ah, Tiamat," Satan takes off his apron and walks around the counter, "here to relieve me of my shift?" She exhales in his direction. Satan claps me on the shoulder, "She's usually a bit grumpy after she's done with a shift in super hell," he walks towards the door, and bows a little to Tiamat as he walks out, "Maybe I'll see you again sometime, Bright," he waves to me as he walks through the doorway. The door shuts behind him.
Tiamat takes Satan's place at the bar. She places both hands on the countertop, and glares at me, "Who are you? How did you get here? Why are you staring at my breasts?"
"I'm Bright. I got sacrificed by some Aldi cult. And…" I scratch my chin trying to think of an answer for the last question, "because they're there?"
She squints at me, "Why the bagel?"
"It was offered to me," I pull the bagel close as to protect it from her. She inches closer, still squinting, still glaring.
"Well how-dee, lady Tiamat," somebody with a southern drawl interrupts from my right, "Lookin' sharp as a bullet, yes you are."
It's Billy the Kid.
That's pretty cool. What? Billy the Kid?
Tiamat just stares at him, then returns to glaring at me, "What-" she starts.
"Are you Billy the Kid?" I ask Billy. The. Kid.
"Why, that would be me. Who's asking?"
"I-" Tiamat starts again.
"I'm just a fan of yours, I guess. You know, they tell stories about you even 100 years after you died."
"Well, I know now," he hooks his thumbs in his pockets.
Tiamat takes a long swig from a bottle of dark liquor.
"I even based one of my DnD characters off you."
"Hell's that?" His head jerks back in confusion.
"It's a-"
Tiamat slams the bottle on the counter, "A-ha! So you must know who I am then."
"Yeah. Kinda."
She tilts her head, leans forward, and glares again, "Kinda?"
"Like I know who you are. I know you're usually a dragon."
"Huh?" Billy mutters.
Tiamat sighs and Rubs her forehead, "Fine: that's fine. You said you were sacrificed in an Aldi?"
"I'm surprised you remembered," I take a sip of my drink. The pairing is a bit strange, I will admit.
"Could I ask you a favor then?"
"Shoot," I say. Billy does a finger gun towards me in response.
Tiamat leads me to a kind of janitor's closet. There's two people, a guy and a girl, tied up back to back with duct tape over their mouths, "Take them back."
"What?"
"They're here from a sacrifice as well. From the Aldi."
"Okay... why do I have to take them back?"
"Because it's my order," she sticks her chin up and peers down at me, "and you would do best to follow it."
"Look, I was gonna do it anyway, but now you're making me not want to," she squints at me, "I just wanted to know why I specifically had to take these two back. And I don't even know if I can go back in the first place."
"Oh you can. You definitely can."
"What does that mean? And you didn't answer my other question."
She sighs, and looks around the bar. She leans in, "You need to take them because they're annoying."
"That's it?" She nods, "Fair enough," I grab onto both of them, "Beam me up then. Or whatever you have to do. Wait," I put my hand out. I point to someone standing near the bar, glancing and shifting around awkwardly, "Is that Eddy Burback?" He looks over to me.
He waves, "Yeah, that's me."
"Why's he here?" I ask Tiamat.
She shrugs, "Iunno. That's Stan's job."
"I got sacrificed in the Aldi," he adds, "Pretty bummed about that."
"Yeah, me too. You're kinda out of place, huh?"
"Hey man, I know," he shakes his head, "Don't have to point it out."
I turn to Tiamat, "Should I take him with me too then?"
She seems to mull it over for a second, "No."
"Why not? It'd be fun."
"I'm doing it to spite you. And make sure you tell those people in the Aldi to stop sacrificing people."
And my vision goes dark. Now I'm in some sort of waiting room.
"Oh! Thank you! Thank you!" I hear from below me. I look down to see the two people who were tied up, now free from their bonds, and latching onto one of each of my legs, "You're our saviour!"
"Sure, sure," I wave them off, "Listen, it's gonna get pretty weird when we get back, so could you let me talk to this cult? I kinda have a plan."
"Sure thing, boss!" The girl says as she salutes.
"You can just call me Bright."
"Sure thing, Bright, boss!" The guy says as he salutes.
My vision goes white, and I'm back in that red room.
The cultists are now just standing quietly in a circle with their heads down.
"Bright, sir," the girl starts, "do you think this is some sort of sex thing?"
"What? No," I look around the room. Shai is laying on the ground in front of the door, "Shai why are you still here?"
"Door's locked," she reaches up towards the door, but it's too far away, "Welcome back."
"Thanks," I clear my throat, "Alright everyone, I have a message from your deity!" Some of them look up.
"Hey wait! Those are the three most recent sacrifices!" The rest of the cultists, and even Shai, look up.
"You bet your bottom we are," the guy on my leg chimes in.
"Yeah, we are the sacrifices," I continue, "And we met your deity."
"What did she say? Was she satisfied?"
"Nope. Not one bit."
"Zero satisfaction," the girl adds.
"Whaaaat? Come on," one of the cultists stands up, "We've been doing so good."
"Well that's the thing, she said you've got it all wrong."
"What?" The cultists asks. He scratches his head, "But we've been doing everything we were supposed to."
Bam! Got him right where I want him, "How do you know what you're supposed to be doing? Have you asked her directly?"
"Well... yeah, I did... she said to sacrifice at least one person who came through the door," the cultists all nod and mumble agreements.
"Huh. That's strange," I tap my foot, "Because I just talked to her, and she was pretty ticked off about this whole situation."
"What?! Please, continue."
"Sure-"
The hooded cultist steps forward, rubbing his chin, "How can we know you're telling the truth?"
"You'll just have to believe."
Shai steps into the mix now, "He's a prophet sent to communicate with you. He's been going on and on about how his mission was to bring order back here."
They all look to me, "Is that true?" One of them asks.
"The. Audacity. You must have. To question me?!" I stand proud.
"Yeah, where do you get off?!" The girl shouts.
"Mind your tone, heathens!" The guy adds.
"Hey, hey," I mutter, "Take it easy wi-"
"REPENT! REPENT FOR YOUR MISDEEDS!" The guy continues to shout.
"YOU DARE DISPARAGE OUR NAMES AS MESSENGERS OF YOUR CREED?!?!" The cultists surrounding us start to bow up and down furiously. I give Shai a thumbs up, and she just shakes her head.