The Creators: Epilogue

Brandon was by far the worst of us. Though his laissez-faire attitude worked decently in Chaos, it was terrible in Hell. He didn't have an ounce of cruelty in him, and so decided to torture his patrons by playing them his original songs until they begged him to start cutting them open. I got the sense that it was equally torturous for him because he worked really hard on those songs. By the time he got to Heaven, he was so jaded with experiences interacting with mortals that he didn't even try. The Holy Father was at best an absentee Dad, and Petranumen had to intervene before the paradisial realm was completely abandoned. Everyone wanted to visit Diamond's Chaos instead, for she had changed Willowbud's masterpiece into a vast anarchistic utopia, leveling the system so that newer participants weren't steamrolled by the vicious veterans. Those who succeeded were those who climbed the proverbial ladder of bones, and the woman sitting beside me had somehow managed to become one of the very best. I never would've guessed it from her.

"It was my ingenuity," Justina muttered, sucking on her cigarette. "I could invent weapons no one else could dream of, and I cheated the first chance I got. Told everyone who I was, and rode that wave to the top. Still, I can't help but wonder if I had an angel looking out for me."

"Diamond would never interfere."

"She would if Petra asked her to."

I didn't reply. I got the feeling that this meeting was going to be a very uncomfortable one.

"Your feelings are correct."

"Why did you come here?"

"To give you your performance review. You fucking suck at being an angel."

I nodded. "You just left Chaos, and you are carrying a lot of bitterness with you. I understand why you are saying these things to me, but I don't think that's why you came here. Please, tell me what's on your mind."

She let out a cloud of smoke. "Did you see what I did to Lucilla?"

I nodded. "I ruled there once. Perhaps I was not the best, but I at least learned not to pass judgment."

She smirked sardonically at me. "Like you ever could after what you've done."

I smiled back. "Ah, and so the true nature of this conversation begins to reveal itself. I will ask you what your forlorn daughter asked me so long ago: 'Do you look through a door, or into a mirror? Is it me you abhor? Do you reflect clearer?'"

Her smirk darkened. "What was it like to be God, Julia? God, the terrible; God the Almighty; God the destroyer of all?"

"It was the greatest feeling I've ever known."

"Just how fucked am I?"

"You're very dangerous right now. The most dangerous thing there ever was." I cocked my head with a little smile. "It felt good to hear me say that, didn't it?"

"Yes."

"I can provide you with a fantasy if you wish. You can see where this goes."

"You have to give me everything I want here. Your fantasy would be just that."

"You would achieve all you desired, then come out of the other end realizing it was a lie. That's very true to form."

"That's not helpful to me, Julia."

"Then you must do what I could not."

"Do you think I can?"

"Yes, I do. You have a talent for removing yourself from... yourself." I steadied her with a look. "It will take a long time, but this battle is one you can win. The war, however, is hopeless."

"The war?"

"You don't think we all feel it?" I looked to the east, where the perpetual light glowed from afar. "I've felt it ever since I came here. If it were not for Lucilla constantly telling me how selfish my guilt was... I don't want to think what might've happened."

"Why didn't you tell me you were struggling?"

"Because I was ashamed." I knotted my fingers, "But we angels don't have the luxury of feeling burdened. We understand the reason for the cycle. We understand the reason for everything even if we don't say it aloud. Giving voice to it gives it power, and it is unspeakable."

"You sound just like Petra."

"I wish that were true." My knuckles were turning white. "She is so effortless, and I try so hard. The harder I try, the worse I am. Freedom, Chaos, Hell; I gave everything, and I failed. I can't change like I'm supposed to." I chewed my lip. "It's like something is holding me in place. Some idea that I can't escape. I can't escape me."

"Then stop running."

"And end up like Brandon?"

"Julia," she sighed and shook her head, "that's not fair to him or you."

I fidgeted with my hands until they were nearly bleeding. "Angela once got drunk in my winery," I mumbled. "She told me that when she went into my mind back in Drastin, she saw how weak I was. Held together like matchsticks over a gaping hole." My fingers found a hangnail, and I found solace in the pulling of it. "I am... brittle, but brittle does not mean I can't be strong. It just means I can't bend very much. She told me that was bullshit. She told me that I had never truly left that mountaintop in the snow. Not in life, not in death. Even after all this time, I am still the scared little girl. That is why you must change, Justina. If you don't, you'll be as brittle as me." I looked up at her. "You know where you have to go. She's waiting for you there. They both are."

ANGELA

Willowbud blinked awake.

"Hey," I grinned at her.

She looked up at the confines of the hovel we were in. She looked at the wheel she was bound to; her limbs splayed out like four spokes. She looked at the surgical tools I had out on display. She looked back at me.

"Are you hard right now?" she asked.

I glanced down at my crotch. "Yes," I mused. "I am very, very hard."

"Good," she sighed. "If they're hard before the torture starts, it's always so much worse."

"Good?!" I glanced at her crotch. "Why are you hard?"

She sneered at me. "Because I'm more fucked up than you."

"Na-ah!"

"Am too!" she cackled. "Nothing gets me harder than the anticipation! Just thinking about what you're gonna do to me..." she rolled her eyes back and licked her lips, "...oh god, when do we start?! Wait! Don't tell me. Not knowing is half the torture itself!"

I poked her nose and giggled. "I know what you're trying to do, and I'm not, gonna, fall, for, it," I tapped her nose with each syllable, then lit the overhead torch, illuminating her body in a red glow.

"Are you gonna fuck me while you do it?" Willowbud whispered huskily, shimmying her hips. "Open me up and see how all the fun stuff works from the inside?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," I muttered, selecting a scalpel and testing the sharpness on my finger.

"I died pregnant. Little bastard might still be in there if you want him. Then you can finally have that baby of your own you wanted so fucking bad!"

I smirked back at her. "There you go again, trying to press my buttons. I'm not so easy to anger anymore."

"Come on, show me you want it!" Willowbud moaned with wanton lechery as she arched from the wheel. "I need to feel your power!"

"What you need," I muttered, and readied the blade against Willowbud's soft belly, "is a fucking priest."

"CUT MY COCK OFF FIRST!" she cried with absolute desperation.

I glanced at her throbbing organ and saw precum dripping down the head. "Holy shit, you're not faking this."

"Come on, Red Fox," she hissed, "give me something to bite down on!"

I let out a long breath. "I need the room!" I yelled to my minions. "Now! Everyone GET THE FUCK OUT!"

My minions scurried out like roaches. Bob wasn't fast enough, so I shot him in the back before he could leave. It let a bit of the anger out. When I was sure they were all gone, I sighed and collapsed in my chair.

"You win," I muttered. "You're more fucked up than me."

"I already knew that," she snickered. "I was the fucking devil!"

"The third-best one. Shit, even Brandon might've done a better job than you."

"He just bored people into insanity."

"And you just went crazy with a bone-saw. You lacked finesse!" I held up the scalpel in a show of bravado, but I wasn't feeling so satanic anymore. Really, I just felt like an imposter.

Willowbud thrust encouragingly. "Shall we proceed?"

"My boner's gone," I said, slapping my useless cock. "What you said about me not being a mom... it got to me. That was mean."

Willowbud's cock deflated. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. It's my jealousy again. I never realized what it meant to be a dead end. I see all these families greeting their great-great-great-grandchildren like they've been together forever even though they've never met. It's a connection that I... I just can't understand it."

"Hey," she said gently, "if it's any consolation, your kid would've been completely retarded. Brandon is your twin brother. That thing's down syndrome would've had done syndrome."

"You're right. It wouldn't have worked," I sighed, and smiled back at Willowbud. "Tera's something else, isn't she? You should be so proud."

"She's a stranger to me, Angela. All we share is DNA."

"There's something to it though, right? Knowing your legacy will carry on below. That's real immortality."

"Then what the hell is this?"

"I don't know," I muttered. "Sometimes it feels like we're trying so hard to pretend it's not over."

"You're sounding like your brother right now."

"Shut up."

"Boo-hoo-hoo, existence is meaningless without death, we're all just floating in the void and jacking each other off," she mimicked. "I'm gonna walk across the bridge and end it all just to show everyone how right I am."

"I said shut up, Willowbud!"

"Make me, you stupid bitch! Make me choke on it!"

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?!" I snatched the scalpel from the tray. "How about I get the sewing kit out and turn you into a eunuch unicorn instead?!"

Willowbud's cock shot right back up, and her eyes rolled back. "Oh god, talk dirty to me, Angela!"

I gawked at her. "You cannot be fucking serious right now."

"DO IT!"

"That's it!" I screamed and cut Willowbud's ankle rope. "We're switching places! Come on! Get out!"

"But I--"

"Shut the fuck up!" I put the scalpel against her lips. "I want you to do your worst! If I'm not begging for the sweet release of death in ten minutes, then I am going to write you a very terrible review in the Afterlife Tribune, and my op-eds are the most read columns in the opinion section, so my word holds weight!"

She smiled around my blade. "By this point, you must've realized I took an aphrodisiac, right? I mean, come on..." she flexed her cock, "...even I'm not this fucked up."

I whined in anger. "Mind games, mind games, mind games! You are this fucked up, and I'm even more fucked up!"

She looked from the scalpel to her proud erection, to my pathetic limp little prick. "What if... we cut each other's dicks off?"

I paused. "Like... at the same time?"

"No. You cut my dick off, then you get on the table, and I cut your dick off. And then... we just keep going. A game of chicken--or rather, rooster--if you will. Then we'll really know who's more fucked up."

My arousal surged. "That..." I whispered tightly, "...is an excellent idea."

She stared right into my eyes, seeming to bore a hole through them with her gaze. "Angela," she hissed with such intensity that it came out as a squeak, "I've got something to say."

"Better say it while you still have a tongue."

She swallowed. "I'm... I'm in love with you."

My breath caught. "Willowbud," I whispered against her lips, "I fucking win." And I pulled the lever beside me, opening the false wall to reveal the bound and gagged Astrid Skyborne, strapped to the cross and ready for fun. She had heard every single word. Her eyes bulged above her gag, and she glared at the pair of us, but mostly at Willowbud.

Willowbud stared back at Astrid and gulped. "Angela," she whispered, "if my hands weren't bound right now, I would rip your guts out and strangle you with them. Then I'd give you a standing ovation."

"I worked tirelessly on it," I smiled at the enraged Astrid. "Lucilla's in the oven right now. She sold you for a bag of chips." I strapped Willowbud's loose ankle back in. "Consider this my present to you, Willowbud. I guess now's a good time to confess that I'm also deeply in love with you." I pulled out the scalpel and smiled. "Let's show Astrid just how deeply."

DIAMOND

I passively observed the situation in Chaos from my place in purgatory. Though Angela was an amateur, she was bereft of extreme talent. Not once did she intrude to the point that her narrative overshadowed the natural evolution of their characters. She played them to near perfection. Willowbud was the physical expression, Astrid was the emotional, and Angela was the one who balanced them. It was almost like poetry. Astrid's indignation, Willowbud's explanation, Angela's mediation, ocular enucleation. Failed intimidation, attempted arbitration, reluctant negotiation, phalanx amputation. Demanded clarification, defensive justification, revealing elucidation, forced feminization. Offered reconciliation, accepted consolation, heartfelt appreciation, cadaveric musculation. Tearful confession, shameful egression, loving concession, patella dissection.

"Someone pulled out their thesaurus," Petra mused beside me.

I smirked at her. "Does it remind you of anyone?"

"Ooo... memory torture. Well-played, but Joy had much better pentameter than you."

"I suppose I'm more of an abstract artist."

She chuckled. "I would know. You always made sure you had a mirror handy so that I could view your masterpiece."

"Eh... you weren't my best work," I tittered. "The best is yet to come."

"Is she here yet?"

I checked my pocket-watch. "She should be dead right about... now."

Lucilla appeared next to us, blinking confusedly.

"Hi, Aunt Lucilla!" I said brightly.

Lucilla looked down at her renewed body like she didn't understand it. She wagged her arms, stomped her feet, and began patting every inch of her skin. Petra and I let her go through the long ritual of bodily rediscovery until she finally noticed we were there.

"Oh, hi Sparkles. Hi Petra."

"How was your first tour in Chaos?" I asked. "Did I do a good job?"

"I never saw you there, so... I guess?"

My face went crestfallen. "You're not supposed to see the angel of Chaos. I did everything behind the scenes to maximize your experience."

"I'm sure you were very important."

"If you do something right, people don't notice that you've done anything at all," Petra chuckled and turned to Lucilla. "Did you achieve transcendence?"

She donned an introspective expression. "Yes, I did. It took a long time, and I had to suffer so much, but I found something special."

"That's wonderful," Petra beamed.

She smiled back. "Yeah, you were right about it after all. I just wish my end had been more climactic."

I nodded. "There is rarely a satisfying conclusion in Chaos because there is no story. If you want a climactic revelation of self-discovery, I have a few stories in Hell written just for you."

"I think I'm good," Lucilla sighed. "It takes so long to find the joy in suffering, and I don't want to start over again. I am thoroughly traumatized. Think I'll vacation with some of my new Chaos friends in Heaven, hang out with the wife for a bit, then head over to Freedom and get lost again. After that, I'll know what to do."

"Are you sure?" Petra asked. "Most people go to Hell after spending so long in Chaos."

"Well, most people who spend that long in Chaos are the kind that need to be punished. I didn't hurt a fly."

I frowned. "Hell isn't about punishment, Aunt Lucilla."

"Still, I think I'll pass."

"I find it quite interesting how the souls cycle the realms," Petra drawled easily. "If they truly find transcendence in Chaos, they go to Hell and seek to understand it. If they don't find it, they go back to Heaven to 'recover,' for they've only reached their current limit. They haven't breached it."

Lucilla narrowed her eyes at Petra. "Do you have any idea what I went through?"

"Do you, Lucilla?" she asked. "I think you have reached transcendence, but you haven't yet emerged from the cocoon. You're mistaking your suffering for your enlightenment, but it was the acceptance that was your true breakthrough. I understand why you're afraid of it." She opened her hand, and a projected memory simmered forth. "When Julia and Angela tortured you in Drastin, there was a moment where your mind broke, and you found acceptance. Immediately after that, the torment stopped, and you regressed into a state of recovery. You are doing it again."

She readied a retort but stopped herself. After pacing around for a little, she turned to me. "What kind of stories do you have for me?"

JUSTINA

One would think that Hell would be an inhospitable wasteland. In truth, it looked quite a bit like Heaven after all the angels had put their signature upon it. There were neatly manicured hedges, resplendent gardens, and persistent pleasant sunshine. That was Brandon's touch. Unlike Heaven, there weren't many metropolises scattered about, but a single great city that had been painstakingly handcrafted by Julia. The walls were made of smooth obsidian, towered ten miles high, and stretched a thousand miles across continents. Willowbud had built them during her tenure here. There were no buildings that could be seen behind the walls, save for an immense pyramid. It used to be the only feature here--originally built by Diamond--and it still stood as the single greatest structure in all the afterlife besides the bridge itself. The black monolith was situated perfectly within the square city. It was five hundred miles in every dimension, so tall that its upper half breached the atmosphere and disappeared into space. If one so desired, they could travel the beautiful and expansive gardens of Hell without ever setting foot in the city. Hermaphroditic servants of the Dark Queen prowled the gardens, and would freely offer travelers great pleasures of the flesh. After the pleasure was done, they would politely ask the travelers if they would like to come into the city, but the travelers could always refuse. They rarely did.

I examined a vivid rose and brought it to my nose. There were succubus pheromones in the ovule that I was naturally immune to. It was a dirty trick.

"Diamond doesn't approve of predatory recruitment methods," I muttered to the Dark Queen.

She waved nonchalantly. "Rules apply to everyone else."

"People have to choose to enter. Free will is paramount."

The Dark Queen snorted. "Free will. The greatest fantasy of all. Anyway, shall we go in? Diamond is expecting you."

The behemoth city gates swung open without even a sound. The city of Hell itself was very orderly and charming. The streets were cobblestone and winding, the shops were lined in myriad brick and stone facades. Little row houses filled the spaces where commerce wasn't taking place, and the damned citizens happily plodded along the streets with smiles on their faces. It felt almost like a small town, but this city was the greatest in the afterlife, and the charming winding roads traveled for hundreds of miles inward, snaking and snarling in an impossible labyrinth. The thoroughfare from the gate was designed so that it cornered immediately upon one of the roads, and once someone made that first turn and lost sight of the gates, they would never find them again. One could dally as long as they wanted in the cute shops and wonderful little homes, but they would never be able to retrace their steps back to the last turn they made. Like rats in a maze, they would always be unwittingly moving toward the pyramid in the center. By the time they got there, they usually had come to terms with their fate.

"It's two-hundred-fifty miles to the pyramid," I muttered to the Dark Queen. "Do I really have to walk it?"