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| Choices Chapter Two |
"You love your daughter more than anything," the woman sitting across the table
from Carter said. She was no doubt beautiful, and Carter was amazed that he could
even have that opinion when he was in the afterlife. The room was sterile, a color
that was not quite white but could not be sufficiently described as anything else.
The light came from nowhere, and everywhere - something that Carter was familiar
with from science fiction books.
It looked much more astounding than had been described; it is easy to imagine a
well lit room that has no source of illumination, but imagination would invariably fall
short. Only now did Carter realize how short.
Carter blinked. The woman sitting across from him had short dark hair cut in a bob,
and straight dark eyebrows. She was in a form fitting dress, which was befitting
enough for one of the damned - what Carter had not expected was a small room
which he was sure was air-conditioned. There was a TV behind the woman, large
and ultra modern looking. Carter did not trust the sight of that TV, though the screen
was blank. He did not trust the sight of it at all.
"You love your daughter more than anything," the woman said, and once again it
did not sound like a question; this time Carter decided to treat it as such.
"Of course I do."
"You sacrificed your soul for her - you believe that don't you?"
Carter swallowed, and flexed his hands - they felt completely real, as did his throat
when he swallowed. "Yes, I know that. What is this place?"
"It is the first of many," the woman said. She had dark blue eye shadow on, and
brilliant red lipstick. Carter decided to be bold, and to defy his fate - after all, he was
not denying it to God, but to the minions of the devil. He had not expected the
minions of the devil to smell so nice, though.
That simply made his voice rougher, and even harsher than he had intended;
"What kind of jezebel whore of Satan are you, to tempt me even after death? To
wear such a uniform?" he said, expecting her face to turn into a monsters face. This
was some kind of trick. Hell was not a small sterile room with a beautiful woman
asking him questions!
She did not turn into a monster, but she did manage to look surprised. Carter
wondered how long she had had to work on that to perfect that stunned,
disbelieving look. He was not buying it.
"Do you really think I'm beautiful?" she asked.
"My God, can you read even my mind?"
"Nooo . . ." she said slowly - "You said I tempted you - I would not do that, I think,
unless I looked beautiful. But I am not certain. This is not how I used to look."
Carter shook his head. He was losing his mind - he could remember - he could
remember . . . everything.
Calling the guard, and the interminable minutes trickling by like hours. Finally, the
sound of footsteps in the hallway, the door sliding open, and McKenna stepping
into the room. The gun he held was small, and the silencer screwed into the barrel
was equally small.
"I didn't really care, Carter, which way you chose - but I will keep my word. Your
brother chose to save his soul, and sacrifice his family. He watched them die with a
smile on his face. I knew you were the better man."
Then McKenna had said goodbye, and raised the gun.
Carter remembered the flash of light, and then he was sitting here with nothing but
perhaps a small flash of blankness. It seemed simply as though he had blinked his
eyes, and when they opened he was here.
He realized he was gripping the edge of the table tightly, that he could actually feel
his pulse in his fingers. "I don't understand what is going on."
"It can be rather startling," the woman agreed, her eyes piercing his. They were a
deep, warm brown with flecks of gold hidden within them, and an understanding
that he immediately began to dislike intensely. What hell was this? What was going
on?
Carter felt as though his heart were going to explode, and he should not even
possess a heart anymore. "There should be a lake of fire," he said softly, and tears
leaked from the corners of his eyes. "There should be a lake of fire."
He did not even realize he was speaking aloud until the woman answered him, all
trace of smile now gone from her features. She was even more beautiful because of
it. "Do you expect so little from your god? Did you not sacrifice yourself for your
daughter?"
"You know that I did!" Carter cried, his voice cracking and loud in the little room. He
wiped the tears from his face, suddenly going cold, suddenly realizing what she had
said - "Do you expect so little from your God?". It chilled him to the bone, those
words, for they were seductive words.
That was their ploy then, to test him further, to see how far he would give up God.
But from this point he would not budge. Whatever was going to happen to his
daughter had already happened. He had no doubt he was now in the afterlife - he
should not have a body, not really, but he swallowed, and his hands sweated, and
he stared defiantly at the woman sitting across the table form him, tears still leaking
down his eyes. "I will not question the will of God, or His decision to send me here,
you demon in human form - I will withstand the temptations that you show me, and I
will not help you in any way. Do you understand me?"
The words were spoken evenly, but there was the force of will there that the girl
could not deny; nor did she rebuke him or taunt him, as he had expected her to do.
"I do not want you to do anything against your heart, Carter," she said softly, and
turned both hands so that they were face up on the table. She stretched them out
slightly, so he could grasp them if he wanted to. He merely stared at them, and tried
to believe that the hurt in her eyes was the fakery of the demon kind.
She left her hands there, outstretched upon the table, and stared at him with her
round, magical eyes for what was only a moment, though it seemed an hour to
Carter. At the end, a single tear leaked from the corner of her eye. She did not brush
it away; she did not acknowledge it at all, and for some reason that twisted Carter=s
heart again.
"I'm sorry your life has been so hard," the girl said, and the tear dripped from the
corner of her jaw to the table. "I'm sorry that you think you deserve hell for trying to
save your daughter." She drew her hands back slowly, and blinked at him, her eyes
large. He realized she was trying with every ounce of strength she possessed not to
shed another tear; to keep her brow and her full lips from wrinkling and trembling.
"You cannot seduce me with your fakery."
"I don't think that I can help you any more," the girl said, and got up and left the
room.
The next man to talk to Carter did not come into the room; Carter twisted and turned
in his seat, and every once in a while he would get up and walk around the room,
staring at the walls, marveling at how much they looked like the walls back on earth;
how much they felt like them. If this was hell, he began to think that an eternity of
this would turn out to be an eternity worse than constant torture.
He would have been wrong, of course.
Carter turned around one time, and there was a slim man sitting at the table where
the girl had been. The man had black hair, and sharp features with sharp brown
eyes that gleamed in the well lit room.
Well lit, but discreetly lit; there was still no light source to make the man's eyes
shine like that; the shine had to come from the inside, which meant that Carter had
now drawn the attention of someone very high up.
"I thought Christians were supposed to be nice to people."
"I don't have to be nice to demonspawn, or their human dupes," Carter said, trying
to keep his voice from shaking. He was not sure whether it was shaking from fear or
anger - but he was learning that those two emotions were becoming more and more
blurred.
"You were almost ruined," the man said, speaking as though he had almost gotten
the flu. "If you have hurt her to badly . . ." the man's voice trailed off, and then he
looked up. "I don't think that you have, though. ShiaT'han is a very strong person. I
suspected you would be difficult, but even I did not realize the depths of your faith."
The sharp featured man blew out a plume of smoke, and tapped the cigarette into an
ashtray that had appeared.
Carter tried not to goggle; cigarette and ashtray had appeared just as quickly and
with as little fuss as the man himself. He tried to tell himself that the man was doing
it to impress or frighten him, but he did not believe that. The man was smoking
casually, looking across the room through his brown, hooded eyes. The spark of
light was still there, and it still chilled Carter's soul. He didn't think trying to beat the
man up would be a good idea, nor did he think it would do him any good even if it
could be accomplished.
"Still, though," the man said, "Think about this for a moment - she could be serving
her own sentence in this hell of yours - then you would be the torturer. Even if she
deserves the punishment you caused her, do you take joy in that? It's not hellfire
and a whip, but you aren't getting what you expected at all either."
"It is not my Hell; it is as with everything else, God's will. I do not understand what is
happening here." Carter tried to keep his voice from shaking, and almost managed
it. The slim man paid no heed to Carter's nervousness, or his pacing.
"ShiaT'han was trying to help you - you've hurt her confidence, and hurt her
feelings. I can sense easily enough that you would do nothing to help me; but you
do not have to go out of your way to be cruel to those around you."
"You've got to be kidding," Carter said, his head spinning. He could not have heard
the man right - the glowing eyed demon was chastising him for being impolite!
Carter opened his mouth to curse the smug, sharp featured man sitting across from
him, but before he could say anything . . . things . . .
shifted . . .
again . . .
from Carter said. She was no doubt beautiful, and Carter was amazed that he could
even have that opinion when he was in the afterlife. The room was sterile, a color
that was not quite white but could not be sufficiently described as anything else.
The light came from nowhere, and everywhere - something that Carter was familiar
with from science fiction books.
It looked much more astounding than had been described; it is easy to imagine a
well lit room that has no source of illumination, but imagination would invariably fall
short. Only now did Carter realize how short.
Carter blinked. The woman sitting across from him had short dark hair cut in a bob,
and straight dark eyebrows. She was in a form fitting dress, which was befitting
enough for one of the damned - what Carter had not expected was a small room
which he was sure was air-conditioned. There was a TV behind the woman, large
and ultra modern looking. Carter did not trust the sight of that TV, though the screen
was blank. He did not trust the sight of it at all.
"You love your daughter more than anything," the woman said, and once again it
did not sound like a question; this time Carter decided to treat it as such.
"Of course I do."
"You sacrificed your soul for her - you believe that don't you?"
Carter swallowed, and flexed his hands - they felt completely real, as did his throat
when he swallowed. "Yes, I know that. What is this place?"
"It is the first of many," the woman said. She had dark blue eye shadow on, and
brilliant red lipstick. Carter decided to be bold, and to defy his fate - after all, he was
not denying it to God, but to the minions of the devil. He had not expected the
minions of the devil to smell so nice, though.
That simply made his voice rougher, and even harsher than he had intended;
"What kind of jezebel whore of Satan are you, to tempt me even after death? To
wear such a uniform?" he said, expecting her face to turn into a monsters face. This
was some kind of trick. Hell was not a small sterile room with a beautiful woman
asking him questions!
She did not turn into a monster, but she did manage to look surprised. Carter
wondered how long she had had to work on that to perfect that stunned,
disbelieving look. He was not buying it.
"Do you really think I'm beautiful?" she asked.
"My God, can you read even my mind?"
"Nooo . . ." she said slowly - "You said I tempted you - I would not do that, I think,
unless I looked beautiful. But I am not certain. This is not how I used to look."
Carter shook his head. He was losing his mind - he could remember - he could
remember . . . everything.
Calling the guard, and the interminable minutes trickling by like hours. Finally, the
sound of footsteps in the hallway, the door sliding open, and McKenna stepping
into the room. The gun he held was small, and the silencer screwed into the barrel
was equally small.
"I didn't really care, Carter, which way you chose - but I will keep my word. Your
brother chose to save his soul, and sacrifice his family. He watched them die with a
smile on his face. I knew you were the better man."
Then McKenna had said goodbye, and raised the gun.
Carter remembered the flash of light, and then he was sitting here with nothing but
perhaps a small flash of blankness. It seemed simply as though he had blinked his
eyes, and when they opened he was here.
He realized he was gripping the edge of the table tightly, that he could actually feel
his pulse in his fingers. "I don't understand what is going on."
"It can be rather startling," the woman agreed, her eyes piercing his. They were a
deep, warm brown with flecks of gold hidden within them, and an understanding
that he immediately began to dislike intensely. What hell was this? What was going
on?
Carter felt as though his heart were going to explode, and he should not even
possess a heart anymore. "There should be a lake of fire," he said softly, and tears
leaked from the corners of his eyes. "There should be a lake of fire."
He did not even realize he was speaking aloud until the woman answered him, all
trace of smile now gone from her features. She was even more beautiful because of
it. "Do you expect so little from your god? Did you not sacrifice yourself for your
daughter?"
"You know that I did!" Carter cried, his voice cracking and loud in the little room. He
wiped the tears from his face, suddenly going cold, suddenly realizing what she had
said - "Do you expect so little from your God?". It chilled him to the bone, those
words, for they were seductive words.
That was their ploy then, to test him further, to see how far he would give up God.
But from this point he would not budge. Whatever was going to happen to his
daughter had already happened. He had no doubt he was now in the afterlife - he
should not have a body, not really, but he swallowed, and his hands sweated, and
he stared defiantly at the woman sitting across the table form him, tears still leaking
down his eyes. "I will not question the will of God, or His decision to send me here,
you demon in human form - I will withstand the temptations that you show me, and I
will not help you in any way. Do you understand me?"
The words were spoken evenly, but there was the force of will there that the girl
could not deny; nor did she rebuke him or taunt him, as he had expected her to do.
"I do not want you to do anything against your heart, Carter," she said softly, and
turned both hands so that they were face up on the table. She stretched them out
slightly, so he could grasp them if he wanted to. He merely stared at them, and tried
to believe that the hurt in her eyes was the fakery of the demon kind.
She left her hands there, outstretched upon the table, and stared at him with her
round, magical eyes for what was only a moment, though it seemed an hour to
Carter. At the end, a single tear leaked from the corner of her eye. She did not brush
it away; she did not acknowledge it at all, and for some reason that twisted Carter=s
heart again.
"I'm sorry your life has been so hard," the girl said, and the tear dripped from the
corner of her jaw to the table. "I'm sorry that you think you deserve hell for trying to
save your daughter." She drew her hands back slowly, and blinked at him, her eyes
large. He realized she was trying with every ounce of strength she possessed not to
shed another tear; to keep her brow and her full lips from wrinkling and trembling.
"You cannot seduce me with your fakery."
"I don't think that I can help you any more," the girl said, and got up and left the
room.
The next man to talk to Carter did not come into the room; Carter twisted and turned
in his seat, and every once in a while he would get up and walk around the room,
staring at the walls, marveling at how much they looked like the walls back on earth;
how much they felt like them. If this was hell, he began to think that an eternity of
this would turn out to be an eternity worse than constant torture.
He would have been wrong, of course.
Carter turned around one time, and there was a slim man sitting at the table where
the girl had been. The man had black hair, and sharp features with sharp brown
eyes that gleamed in the well lit room.
Well lit, but discreetly lit; there was still no light source to make the man's eyes
shine like that; the shine had to come from the inside, which meant that Carter had
now drawn the attention of someone very high up.
"I thought Christians were supposed to be nice to people."
"I don't have to be nice to demonspawn, or their human dupes," Carter said, trying
to keep his voice from shaking. He was not sure whether it was shaking from fear or
anger - but he was learning that those two emotions were becoming more and more
blurred.
"You were almost ruined," the man said, speaking as though he had almost gotten
the flu. "If you have hurt her to badly . . ." the man's voice trailed off, and then he
looked up. "I don't think that you have, though. ShiaT'han is a very strong person. I
suspected you would be difficult, but even I did not realize the depths of your faith."
The sharp featured man blew out a plume of smoke, and tapped the cigarette into an
ashtray that had appeared.
Carter tried not to goggle; cigarette and ashtray had appeared just as quickly and
with as little fuss as the man himself. He tried to tell himself that the man was doing
it to impress or frighten him, but he did not believe that. The man was smoking
casually, looking across the room through his brown, hooded eyes. The spark of
light was still there, and it still chilled Carter's soul. He didn't think trying to beat the
man up would be a good idea, nor did he think it would do him any good even if it
could be accomplished.
"Still, though," the man said, "Think about this for a moment - she could be serving
her own sentence in this hell of yours - then you would be the torturer. Even if she
deserves the punishment you caused her, do you take joy in that? It's not hellfire
and a whip, but you aren't getting what you expected at all either."
"It is not my Hell; it is as with everything else, God's will. I do not understand what is
happening here." Carter tried to keep his voice from shaking, and almost managed
it. The slim man paid no heed to Carter's nervousness, or his pacing.
"ShiaT'han was trying to help you - you've hurt her confidence, and hurt her
feelings. I can sense easily enough that you would do nothing to help me; but you
do not have to go out of your way to be cruel to those around you."
"You've got to be kidding," Carter said, his head spinning. He could not have heard
the man right - the glowing eyed demon was chastising him for being impolite!
Carter opened his mouth to curse the smug, sharp featured man sitting across from
him, but before he could say anything . . . things . . .
shifted . . .
again . . .
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