Crack!

The sound of air shattering rolled into people's ears as light flashed across the sky once more.

The sound of thunder had gotten fainter once again, the lightning further away and less bright.

Looking behind, Dr Howle observed the line getting longer, as it had done with each crack of lightning.

For hours, he had shuffled his feet at a turtle-like pace, moving forward.

The man in front of him had a broad back, with the odd combination of a baseball cap and black trench coat. There was a little boy bouncing a ball behind him.

He had not a clue of where he was, nor what he was currently doing with any of these people.

Black ash covered the flat ground and grey clouds hovered in the sky, looking constipated, but refusing to release a drop of rain and clear up in the slightest.

All he could think of was when he was finally to get to the end of the line.

"Any normal person would probably panic, huh..." but why had no one attempted to run away from the line, or cut to the front?

He felt inclined to think about it, but his brain seemed lame, as if his body would not follow his actions.

He just continued to step forward one place at a time.

Repeating the same action over, and over...

But he didn't notice how weightless his own body was. Or that he couldn't feel the heart beating in his chest.

An eternity seemed to pass before he finally stepped foot onto stone ground, leading up to a platform.

A man sat in a raised seat, his skin entirely red, the sclera of his eyes pitch-black. They oosed sticky, tar-like tears down to his chin.

[What kind of medical condition is that?] the doctor thought to himself.

The red man's eyes started to twitch before settling down after releasing a breath. A cartoon-ish steam rushed out of his nose as he roughly exhaled.

"Is your name... Doctor Tendai Howle?"

The red man spoke in a deep tone, with a slow, unhurried pace.

"Yes sir."

"Doctor Tendai Howle... it seems you have accumulated a lot of good karma in your lifetime... But sadly, good karma is not a cure for chronic stress and heart disease... Though it does seem that you have retained your... healing hands."

"..." [...a demon?]

The demon thought to himself, [usually, this is where they ask me, 'am I dead?']

He paused before continuing his speech.

"Doctor... I regret to inform you that you have died... Your family is safe... your daughter will give birth to a healthy baby boy in due time... and⁠—even better⁠—your wife will be able to join you in the afterlife... in about 900 cycles."

"900 cycles... so she dies naturally in about two and a half years?"

"...The time in the underworld... is lengthened compared to the surface. Doctor."

The old man shuffled his feet where he stood.

"So how long does my wife have exactly?"

The demon seemed to notice his nervousness, and sadistic delight crept up to the corners of his crying eyes.

"In surface time? In nine days give or take... And it's not a natural death."

A silence seemed to overtake the two of them.

"...so how does she die?"

"Suicide...pills. She still has the extra key to your clinic...in her wallet." The demon enunciated the 't' in wallet with a sharp click of the tongue.

"Can I stop her!?"

The red man smiled, and only then did the doctor fully see his jagged, black teeth.

"Accumulate merits... and get reincarnated soon doctor~ Enjoy your time in the afterlife~"

"Wait, I need to stop her! My daughter will be devastated if we both⁠—"

"Doctor that will be all... You can meet your wife at the boundary."

Black smoke appeared at the doctor's feet, sucking the old man into the floor.

And into a deeper hell.