Noah Haynes stood in an infinite blackness, occupied only by himself and a specter wearing a heavy hooded cloak.
Am I dead? Did that bastard Jones actually kill me?
“Who’s we?”
“You have questions. That is understandable,” the cloaked figure intoned. It’s voice filled the entire space around between them, but sounded terribly hollow.
“I just asked one,” Haynes replied pointedly, staring coldly at the unidentified figure.
“Calm yourself,” the phantasm soothed. “Everything will be explained to you in due time. But first-”
“Now seems like a pretty good time to me.” Haynes interrupted.
“You certainly are a willful one, Noah Haynes. This intractability could prove to be a problem,” the figure remarked. Haynes could hear the smirk behind the comment.
“I’m a lot more agreeable when people don't dodge my questions,” Haynes replied peevishly. “Who are you? Where are we?”
“I will answer all of your questions momentarily, but we must vacate this place immediately.” The specter urged.
“How do I know I can trust you? I don’t know where we are. This could all just be playing out in my subconscious. I just collapsed from blood loss. This could be a response to a near death experience.” Noah had been near death once before, though he didn’t remember anything like this. Back when he was with the Corps, he’d taken a bullet in the leg saving his squad. He’d almost bled to death. That was what eventually led him to leave the military and join the police academy. If he was going to die, he wanted to do it on American soil.
The figure chuckled. It was the most unsettling thing Noah had ever heard.
“You are not having a near death experience. Although I suppose you could say you are having a near Death experience.”
Noah cocked his head to the side quizzically. The shadow-person had somehow pronounced capitalization in that last sentence. He suspected his original assessment might actually be right.
“This place will not last much longer,” the figure admonished. “I must carry you to the other side, before your link to the Mather collapses, and you are lost.”
“What’s a Mather?”
“What you call the universe, in your narrow definition of the term,” the specter replied haughtily. “I can waste no more time. Please accompany me. Dragging you into the next world would be unseemly.”
“Maybe I’d be a bit more cooperative if you dropped the boogey man bit,” Haynes retorted.
“I realize my appearance may seem odd, but it is absolutely necessary for the completion of my mission,” the figure explained. “I promise you that once we cross over my appearance will be more amiable. Now I must ask you to decide.”
Haynes eyed her suspiciously for a moment.
“Alright. But only because it doesn’t look like I’ve got anywhere else to go.”
“Excellent.” Without further preamble, the specter turned and shifted its posture slightly. From within the folds of the cloak burst forth a blue white arc of light, curving slightly backwards towards the specter before jutting out into a facsimile of a wickedly curved blade. The light blade slashed downward, cutting the darkness.
A scythe? Noah wondered. Are we being this clichéd?
The blade left a rent in the darkness in its wake. This laceration seemed to hemorrhage light.
“Please enter,” the figure requested.
“Please, you first. I insist,” Haynes replied.
“I’m afraid that isn’t possible”
“Age before beauty,” Noah retorted, grinning and gesturing towards the glowing portal.
The figure sighed, then stared directly at its seemingly impossible charge and gestured forcefully towards the portal. Noah was hurled past the unearthly threshold.
“Or not. That works too.”
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