When a child is born, they unknowingly enter a world of danger governed by chance. Nothing is guaranteed, not their birthright, their appearance, not even their next crying inhalation. Their very existence is at the mercy of a cruel, unforgiving world.
As for death, one may be inclined to believe that it is a release from that chance. After all, ending your life would likewise halt your observation of the chaotic realm you leave behind, and bring a halt to the troubles it engendered. However, it is the narration's prerogative to inform you that this is baseless, naive, and in every way an ignorant notion. In fact, death is neither a release nor an end, but rather a paradoxical evolution of the chaos you leave behind. Beyond this mortal coil lies a higher realm that stretches farther than one can perceive, and far deeper than one's intuition can peer into, and in some cases, far more bizarre than you could imagine. This realm is known by many names in countless languages and forms of expression, but colloquially it is known as Heaven. It is within this context that our protagonist has found himself hopelessly entrapped.
Johnny awoke from his eternal slumber in a rather bizarre world. All about him was a muted gray. Looking up was endless gray. left, right, center, and below yielded the same. The concept of gravity did not seem to apply here, though the same could be said of any solid ground, as it was rare to find. All about Johnny were floating boulders primarily made up of a rocky material he had never seen before. Here and there on some of those boulders were what appeared to be dark green vines that sprouted from cracks on their surfaces. These vines wound their way in coils out into free space, some of which managed to link to other boulders, forming long chains. These structures combined to form patches of intricate weavings of dark greenery and rock.
Occasionally, a piercing whistle would shatter the silence. That was the signal for a rain of pebbles and rocks the size of large vehicles to fly by, pelting Johnny at painfully high speeds. He barely managed to avoid a direct strike to his more sensitive parts or be crushed by one of the more massive shards of material. He might not be able to die again here, given he was dead already, but he wasn't inclined to find out if he could.
This is what it's like to be dead, he thought. In a way, the phrase "beating a dead horse" couldn't be more illustrative of the situation. If it wasn't the proverbial kick in the groin that was his previous life, it was the literal rock to the groin in this one. Unfortunately, the notion of suffering was translatable between the living and the dead realms.
As for our protagonist's position, he was in the center of a bare patch of space where the larger boulders had not come to rest. The vines were far out of his reach, leaving him hopelessly stranded without cover amidst the chaotic rains of debris. He glanced in the direction one group of these projectiles came from, and to his surprise, a large void had opened up. After several moments of ejecting an inestimable amount of its cargo, it closed again. This process seemed to continue indefinitely, at least for the time -if time existed here in the first place- that Johnny was aware of.
He floated silently. Earlier he had attempted to shout into the voiceless space, but nothing came forth from his mouth. When dead, you don't need a voice, he surmised. The print t-shirt and shorts he had worn when he died were still with him. They were coated in the blood from the accident. Despite having his body torn in half, he was completely whole here. What a lack of consistency, he complained. Still, he was glad that he was in one piece, albeit deceased.
He floated there for what he guessed was a day, absentmindedly contemplating his situation. The whistles and rock showers gave him a method of timekeeping, as the intervals between them were relatively consistent. At this point, he was waiting for an adequately sized rock to collide with him in the hopes that it would propel him into one of the boulders. It would be better than sitting stranded in the middle of nowhere, and he could pull himself boulder to boulder via the vines strung between them. After that, he didn't really know what was next, other than living out whatever life -or death- he had in this forsaken place.
"Rhaak thianf baar, ven!"
The sudden, gruff voice and unintelligible words aroused Johnny from his stupor, and he craned his neck around to see where it came from. If he had his voice, he would've shouted in surprise from the sudden appearance of the voice's owner.
From behind one of the boulders emerged a short, odd-looking creature. White fur completely obscured the contours of its body, resembling a furry ball. Stubby pink hands and feet peeked out from underneath its dense coat, and black wings similar to that of a bat's emerged from what Johnny guessed was its back. Two black, glossy eyes peeked out from a small gap in the fur.
Several of its companions followed suit, popping up from behind various other boulders. They cautiously advanced on Johnny, coming to a halt in a neatly arranged seventeen-point circle around him. They chattered between themselves in a language Johnny couldn't comprehend.
One of them, presumably the leader of the other sixteen assembled fuzz balls, approached close to Johnny and looked him over. It reached for his hair and pulled tightly, which of course was to his discomfort, prompting an immediate silent gasp and jolt from the pain. The creatures retreated in response to his reaction, keeping a wary eye on the odd thing before them. The leader that had pulled on his hair remained motionless, staring Johnny in the eye. It let go, observing his every move while it retreated slowly.
The leader conferred with two of the sixteen other fuzz balls, stealing glances in Johnny's direction every once in a while to confirm he hadn't left his position. He wriggled uncomfortably in their presence. They didn't seem dangerous, but he had seen enough movies to know that cute creatures don't always turn out to be good.
When they came to an apparent resolution, the leader returned to Johnny and placed both of its tiny hands on his chest. It began to slowly chant an unintelligible phrase over and over again, the others following suit.
"Ban, noi, hiyak tou... ban, noi, hiyak tou.. "
A warm glow started to emanate from the leader, which slowly spread throughout Johnny's body from his chest to his extremities. It grew in intensity until his vision was overwhelmed with blinding light. Johnny would've screamed if he had his voice, his eyes felt as though they were melting out of their sockets.
-
He awakened again, though not where he was before. Ahead of him, a warm glow rose on an azure horizon, silver stars strewn overhead as though they were broadcasted grain. Under his feet, clouds supported the weight of what was his ethereal body.
Endless space stretched in all directions, and so did the sky and the clouds under him. Gravity seemed to exist here, allowing him to walk about as he would have in his past life. And so he did. He walked toward the warm glow on the horizon.
For how long he walked, he couldn't tell. If it were an eternity, it felt as though it only lasted a second, and if it were only a second, it would have felt an eternity. The glow ahead of him seemed to grow brighter with every step.
As though signaled by his arrival, a throne materialized before him. It was a magnificent seat of solid gold. precious gems of Emerald, Ruby, Sapphire, Diamond, and Aquamarine intricately placed on each of the arms. At the foot gems of lesser kinds were placed, as though symbolizing the disparity between their classes. Behind this, a towering gate of solid gold stretched infinitely into the sky. Its sides were obscured by the blinding light of a liquid gold barrier that stretched endlessly to the right and to the left as to ultimately seal any chance of circling around it.
But of those things that had appeared, the most entrancing of all was the being that sat upon the throne. Only one word could describe her faceless countenance: a Goddess. Flowing robes of white silk embroidered with intricate patterns of gold and silver hung from her shoulders and draped over her legs. Her comely shape would have been the envy of the greatest models in Johnny's previous life. But above all was the air of absolute authority, for though she had no readily apparent eyes, her gaze could easily be felt gazing on your soul. Overwhelmed, Johnny began to speak but found that no words would come. Even if it were true that his voice was gone from before, he would have readily believed it was instead the grandeur of her presence that was the cause.
The Goddess spoke, the words of which cascaded forth with the quiet power of countless turbulent seas.
"Johnathan Rivers, welcome to the Gates of Heaven."