The Creators: Epilogue

"No exceptions," she tittered. "There's a wonderful tea shop about halfway in. I own that establishment, so please stop by before you continue. If you walk past it, you won't be able to find it again."

"Leave it to Julia to make Hell so goddamned tedious."

"Julia isn't as gifted a pain-dealer as her daughter, but she understands suffering better. True suffering is a winding road where the better days are always behind you. You know there is only despair ahead, but still, you will go. It's better than standing still."

"Poetic," I burred my lips. "How long does it take to get there?"

"How good is your cardio?" she asked amusedly. "I'll see you at the halfway point."

The first few days were rather pleasant. The gentry were all congenial and without worry, for the shadow of the pyramid didn't loom this far into the city. There was no currency in the afterlife, so all my needs were met on my journey. Street vendors gave me food, cobblers supplied me with the finest walking shoes, and cozy inns provided warm beds and other comforts. All of the shops were run by one of the Dark Queen's hermaphroditic elves, and so I could partake in my sexual desires as I needed from any of the vendors. I made casual friends on my way down the winding streets, and even a few casual lovers in the warm taverns. For the first four days, the people I talked with were as carefree as those in Freedom or Heaven, but on the fifth day, I started to see a change in their eyes. They were a bit wider than they should be, and the smiles they offered felt like plastered grimaces.

By the sixth day, I was beginning to see panic. I couldn't explain it, but I felt it too. As my clogs clapped on the cobblestone streets, there was less and less conversation until everyone was walking silently. When I looked up at the center of Hell, I saw that the pyramid was gradually getting closer. No longer did it tower, but loomed over everything, its dark surface seeming to suck the light from the sky. I had to physically turn my head to see its sloping edges, for it dominated the horizon before me. It didn't emit a sound, nor did it cast a spell, but its presence was always in our vision, and becoming greater in our minds. On the sixth night, nobody said anything at the tavern bar. We all went to sleep alone, but nobody slept.

It was the seventh day of my journey when it happened. I stopped before one of the streets, and everything before me was veiled in shadow. I looked at my feet and saw the point of the pyramid being cast just between them. Where the darkness touched, the pleasant veneer of the place seemed to vanish. Nothing about the architecture or the infrastructure was different, but it all changed. I pondered what was before me, gnawing on my pretzel, sipping on my mojito. I turned around and saw the blissful sunny street behind me. Birds were chirping, pollen was floating between the boulevard trees, and there was no one. No one, but a shadowy antlered figure grinning from behind a dark shop window.

"Is this really necessary?" I called to Diamond. But I was talking to a mannequin. I frowned and looked back in the direction I was heading. I understood what the sudden change was now. I was completely alone. The shops were pristine but empty. The houses were well-kept but shuttered. No wind blew through the orchards on the boulevards, and no songbirds sang. I took another bite of my pretzel and took my first step into solitude. I never did find that tea shop.

On the eighth day, I slept alone in an empty tavern. The fire was roaring and the bar was stocked, and though my drinks were ready for me every time I walked out for one, there was no bartender. On the ninth day, I noticed that my footsteps were becoming quieter. They plodded mutedly along the silent street until they were gone completely. I stomped and barely heard a dull thud. Somehow, this singular difference between the eighth day and the ninth day was starker than when everyone else had vanished. The persistent plodding of my feet was an unappreciated comfort, and now it was gone. I snapped my fingers next to my ear and heard nothing. I continued snapping my fingers as I walked backward, but the sound never came back to me. I looked up. The pyramid was so close now that I could not see the ends of it, but I could still somehow see the top. The skies were clear and blue, and though the upper half of the great monolith pierced the very cosmos, the glow of the spiritual realm highlighted its edges, gleaming off its point deep into space. With the hyperbolic curve of the world, the perspective from this spot in the city felt like the pyramid was planar with the ground itself. It didn't seem "up," but appeared as a pathway that narrowed with distance until it converged to some unknowable destination in the darkness. It was an arrow, and it pointed me in the only direction I could go.

On the eleventh day, the fog began to roll in. I could barely see the shops down the street, but the black pyramid was easily visible above me. It was so much closer now. On the twelfth day, all the fires were gone. The streets were unlit, the hearths were cold, and the candles in the taverns were just for decoration. I sat on the foot of the bed and drank whisky in complete silent darkness. I knew there would be no sleep for me. I hadn't slept in five days. I screamed, and no sound came out. I threw the glass against the wall, but no crash came. On the thirteenth day, I was sprinting as hard as I could. I had to stop every hundred feet to catch my breath, but I didn't care. I couldn't see where I was going anyway, but I could see the pyramid looming above me. I just had to get there. Whatever waited, no matter how horrible, at least it would be something. I would gladly hold company with the most sadistic torturers in the world than exist one more day like this!

I ran until my shoes cracked and the soles wore out. I didn't bother changing them. My bloodied feet slipped against the harsh cobblestones, but I was beyond caring. There was no end to the fog. I couldn't even see the sides of the street anymore. I didn't know if there were even shops at my flank, or if I was running across a vast plain of cobblestones, for I never saw another building. I never saw more than three feet in front of me. On the fourteenth night, I rested in the middle of the road. I didn't sleep or even blink. I just stared into the fog. My eyes were bloodshot and felt like they'd been dragged across sandpaper. No ghostly apparitions came to me. No grinning smiles or evil eyes. My mind wouldn't even hallucinate them. Though I was beyond exhaustion, I was alert and lucid. I wished I could go mad. Madness was a mercy for those who could not cope, and I was at my wit's end. The only thing that kept me from total despair, was the ominous top of the pyramid visible high above me. The only thing I could see, for on the fifteenth day, I could not even deduce my hands before my eyes.

And then, everything was there. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, the streets were vibrant with green trees that lined the charming boulevards. I was still alone, but that didn't matter. I had my senses back. I blinked for the first time in two days and turned around. Behind me, the streets wound in a cozy little bend, and the shop glass twinkled in the light. No sign of the fog. I turned back around, and a woman was standing at the end of the street. Diamond Gendian was smiling kindly, and holding open a small iron door at the base of the massive pyramid. I let out a cry of relief and sprinted over to the devil. She threw out her arms for me, and I charged into her embrace and squeezed her with a sob.

"It's alright, Justina," she whispered, holding me with all her love. "I've got you. I'm going to take such good care of you."

I clung to her desperately as she guided me into the darkness, and shut the iron door behind us with a clang.

I was standing in a windowless room lit by red torches. The flames danced off the obsidian statues of people in various positions of torment. What was being down to them was beyond grotesque, but though their bodies were tensed and knotted with agony, their faces bore such expressions of euphoria. These statues flanked the side of the room, and in the middle of the room, was a plain wooden chair.

"Would you sit, please?" Diamond asked, patting me gently. She somehow felt like a reassuring presence in this place. Everything here was by her design, and yet, I felt like she was defending me against it.

"That's a misnomer of perception," she chuckled. "I am not protecting you from this place, Justina. What you feel is a sense of home. I want you to feel at home here. Please, sit."

I walked to the center of the room and sat on the chair. Though it was cold and hard against my naked buttocks, it did not feel uncomfortable.

"You will notice that there are no restraints on this chair," Diamond said. She sat cross-legged on the floor before me so that she had to look up to address me. "You can leave whenever you want. You will not have to travel through the city; you'll be in the gardens outside." A kindly smile came across her lips. "But nobody has ever chosen to leave under my care. Not until their journey is finished."

"What is my journey?" I asked.

"People who come here do so because they are in the midst of change. Something is torturing them, and they want it to stop. What I do, is give them the strength to bear that pain so that they can change like they're supposed to. Much of the time, pain itself is the threshold they must breach, so I have become a master of inflicting it. I know when to be sensual with pain, and when to be sexual. I know when horror and mutilation should be imparted, and when I should exact unspeakable agony without leaving a mark. Angela and Willowbud have both undergone this metamorphosis, and now they are masters of their pain. Now, they can find love in it."

She steepled her fingers in front of her, and I marveled at how small and delicate those hands were. The kind of hands that could move with such care and precision to exact the perfect sensation. "You are terrified of pain, but that is not the threshold you breached in Chaos. I will not torture you."

"Then what is my journey?"

"When you left Chaos, you had transcended the barrier of cruelty. It was something you avoided as God, for you feared what it would mean to enjoy your control over those less powerful than yourself. That is the thread we must pull here. If we do not, then you will not understand your desire, and you will seek to fulfill it in ways that would be detrimental to all." She smiled. "Needless to say, I've never had a client like you. Petranumen has come here many times, but she is very in-tune with her mind and soul. You are just a baby compared to her, and you control the universe."

She opened her steepled fingers and clapped her hands. More torches ignited down the stone pillars, hinting at the great immensity of this place. The torches stopped a hundred feet away from me, illuminating a single figure. Lucilla was sitting in a chair much like mine, her hands gripping the armrests with white knuckles, but there was an anticipatory smile upon her face.

"You made Lucilla the object of your control for nearly a century," Diamond said, standing up and bidding me do the same. "The two of you developed a very intimate symbiosis. It was almost love. She almost loved you for the power you had over her, and you almost loved her for the power she gave so generously."

"She didn't give it; I took it," I hissed.

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong," Diamond chuckled, and slid her evil little hands down my back, sending wonderful shivers up my spine. "Power can't be stolen, or it wouldn't be power. The power comes from the surrender--the giving. She gave, and gave, and gave, but she didn't give enough." Diamond planted a kiss on my throat. "She came here to give you everything, and you came to receive it."

BRANDON

The others had put their spectacular marks on Freedom. Julia had created mountains that uprooted from the earth and made great bridges across the sky. Willowbud had made enormous trees whose hollows could house cities. Diamond--the overachiever that she was--had made luminous rainbows that acted as highways across thousands of miles. All of it was a feast to behold, but to me, it was dimmer than I remembered. Not darker, but just less vivid. I tried to find the shadows that would bring out the light. For two thousand years in Chaos and Hell, I had tried to understand darkness, but I had failed. By the time I got to Heaven, I'd been sapped of my will.

I took a deep inhale of the fresh air and sighed. At least here, I did not have to suffer under expectations. For the next thousand years, I could be at peace with my complacency, and just ride the tides of time. It was strange how they seemed to accelerate. Perhaps I was just moving slower. My thoughts were becoming longer, my perception was becoming wider. Days ticked by like minutes, months ticked by like hours. A decade would pass before I even completed a single tangent of myself, and then a century would be gone before I could comprehend the next. They melted together, moving like a blur that passed me by, leaving me bewildered upon my bearings. Sometimes I wondered if I was missing something, or if it was everyone else who had gone mad chasing change. Even Justina was swept into the journey of self-understanding. All of it baffled me. What was there to find?

I took a peek into my sister's mind and tried to grasp what she saw. One look was all I needed to know that I would never understand. Objectively, I could grapple with the idea that pain and horror were vices to the undead. Deconstruction of the flesh and body were experiences to be had now, but I could not fathom to what end. They thought themselves to be wizened by their journey of darkness, they thought that I was immature for my lack of comprehension, but they could not see what I saw. They would come out of this eventually. They would return to a center. Perhaps it would be skewed differently, but it would be where they were before. Around and around the circle they would go, going nowhere. Chasing their tails. Chasing their tales; trying to find a narrative.

"Why are you here?" I asked Petranumen.

She sat beside me atop the mushroom and enjoyed the view. "I was listening to your train of thought, and decided to interrupt it."

"Does it scare you?"

She inclined her head from side to side. "Not really. I've had these existential moments as well, and I've realized that they lead to nowhere."

"Everything leads to nowhere now."

"Everything always did."

I took a hit from my blunt. "Why are you really here?"

She pulled out a scroll and donned a pair of spectacles. "To give you your performance review. We've officially completed our first afterlife cycle, and I'm grading all our employees."

"I know I'm the worst. You don't need the theatrics."

She smirked. "But I enjoy them. Anyway, customer service feedback graded you five out of ten in Chaos, zero out of ten in Hell, and four out of ten in Heaven. You did receive a generous eight of ten in Freedom, but I doubt that rating will hold after this cycle." She pulled off her glasses and eyed me. "Brandon, Brandon, Brandon... what am I going to do with you?"

I snorted. "Just fucking fire me."

"That's not my choice to make."

"You're the interim manager for the foreseeable future." I frowned at what I saw in Hell. "For the far future."

"It's not her choice to make either."

I glanced at her. "You think I want to quit?"

"I think you need a vacation."

I gestured broadly at Freedom. "This doesn't count?"

"Doesn't look like it."

"If living in paradise isn't a vacation then I don't know what the fuck is."

"Was Heaven paradise for you, Brandon?" She chewed on the temple of her spectacles as she regarded me. "If you plant a seed in different soil, it will bloom to reflect its environment, but if you plant a pebble..."

"A pebble," I glowered at her. "This coming from the Elemental of earth. For eons, you outlasted them all. The Elemental of Life was uprooted and replanted ad nauseum, but you stayed rooted." I leaned in. "If I opened you up like Angela did to Willowbud, would I find the rings of a tree or the layers of geology?"

"Poetic."

"Don't lecture me about unchanging."

"Don't tell me that you're happy as you are."

"Happy?" I barked. "Are we in fucking preschool?"

"You're lost, Brandon."

"No, I'm not. Everyone else is."

"Is that why you're so miserable?"

"Fuck you."

"If you don't like what you've found, then abandon it and keep searching." She scowled at me. "Why do I keep having this conversation with you and Julia?"

"I guess we're just a couple of stubborn pebbles," I growled back and leaned closer. "We don't shine like you want us to, but if you think we'll be the first ones to cross the bridge, just know that diamonds aren't really forever."

She slapped me. "Shut your fucking mouth!"

I blinked in shock and touched a hand to my cheek. By the aghast expression on Petranumen's face, I gathered that she was equally stunned.

"I'm... I'm sorry, Brandon," she whispered and folded her hands into her lap.

"Wow," I mumbled. "That's the first time I've seen you freak out since... since before forever." I looked to the distant glow of the furthest plane. "You're really feeling it now, aren't you?"

She nodded.

"You've done this whole afterlife thing before. Surely this must've come up then." I leaned in. "Didn't it?"

She swallowed, and her bottom lip trembled. "It did."

I leaned closer. "What happened?"

"The elders of the cognizant winds... those who existed long enough to watch mountains grow... they did not speak. They simply washed across the world. The last time we heard them was when the planes split. Through the screams of terror, we heard them exalt. Where do they go? Why do they go?" She looked up at me. "We could not answer that question, Brandon. We just knew that they all walked willingly into the light."

"I was on the other side of the sun. Everyone walked willingly into the light; even the children. Petra, we all assumed there was a method to your madness, but if you have no idea what you're doing...."

"I know that if you let time eat at you, you will fall prey to it."

"It eats us all. Julia and I are just taking it slower than the others."

"That's not how it works."

"How do you know?"

"I know you don't."

"Then I guess we'll both know in time."

"What kind of fucking idea is that?!" she snapped. "Why do you have it so stuck in your mind that the end is inevitable?!"

"Why don't you?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

I leaned in until our noses were practically touching. "Petra... why don't you?"

"What?!" she hissed back, her eyes quivering. Those ancient eyes that had seen the dawn of sentience; those eternal eyes that had watched the earth grow and die a hundred times; those child's eyes that could not comprehend the nature of her parents. It hit me at that moment. Petranumen was born from the mind of man. An idea of rock formed to sentience, of timeliness, of everlasting, but that was all just a veneer for the truth. The Holy Mother had only ever been the Holy Child, and a child could not comprehend inevitability. It was something they learned through the ravages of time as they grew into their flesh and felt the mortality within it. Petranumen had never walked the earth in flesh. She shared the minds of thousands of hosts, but she had never--could never--comprehend the simplest truth we all knew. We were born for one thing. It was in our very essence, but not in hers. As she stared into my mind and saw these thoughts play across it, she came no closer to understanding what I knew to be the only grounded truth. She was millions of years my senior, but I was older than her. I'd been older since the day I was born. Her lip trembled and her eyes welled, and I saw the uncomprehending child that she was. And like the father she needed, I wrapped her in my arms and held her tightly.