Melissa waved her hands around for a little while. They went through the air, which was suddenly cool to the touch. A breeze bellowed gently down the hall, ruffling her robe and causing strands of her hair to trail invisibly behind her. But other than the chill, her hands touched nothing. She felt the natural tension of her wrists and elbows as she strained for the wall.

She connected with something nobbly. Her left hand rested on a series of ornate bumps that felt like carved wood. And with that, she was off, loping slowly down the hall, maintaining intermittent contact with the carvings on the wall.

"Hello?" she called out, to no one in particular. No one in particular answered. She walked on.

Soon, her eyes adjusted to the darkness. It was still dark as tar, but she began to enjoy the solitude. Melissa's hand touched the wall less and less often, and she found herself happy to slowly march down into the gloom with her hands extended and legs stepping daintily, ready for a curb or a hole that just didn't seem to feel like showing up.

The ground got cold, and slightly damp, and it took on the texture of benign sandpaper, lightly scratching against her slippers as she moved forward.

After an hour or so, she sat down. She felt suddenly tired, and the ground was comforting to her palms, which were slick from the nervous anticipation that had been slowly and almost imperceptibly building during her long procession.

"Erskine?" she called, quietly. Perhaps he would just appear.

"Erskine?" she called.

"Ryan?" she called, her voice trembling. She pulled her legs in toward her body. She felt the presence of dead people — dead eyes, souls on ice, invisible bodies sliding silently through the damp cave air of heaven.

"Erik?" she called, her voice choking and sputtering. "Erik?"

The air had picked up speed now, and it whooshed past her ears like a thousand exhalations, a voice expressing an existential sigh or a groan of impatience. Melissa curled up into a ball, and someone touched her hand.

She stood up, and lurched backward. She fell onto the wall, which was cold and slick and carved like jade. Her hands went into jade mouths, slipping into jade throats of dragons wrought from precious stones. She jumped forward into the corridor, which was still dark as a closet. She twirled around, gasping, stumbling backward into the other wall, and falling into a silent fountain. The water was black and cold.

Melissa screamed: "FUCK fuuuuUUCK GOD DAMN IT FUUUUCK GET AWAY FUCK FUCK FUCK!" She jumped out of the fountain.

"Hey, hold on," said a voice.

It was female, and very quiet. It was warm and dry and husky. It sounded like incense, or sandalwood.

"Uh, what?" asked Melissa, soaking wet. "What are you?"

"I'm a friend," said the voice, advancing on Melissa. She felt hands on her shoulders. They were soft, and, unlike the air around her, they were warm and steady. They peeled off her wet robe. Without warning, Melissa was in the embrace of another woman, a small woman, dressed in something velvet soft and ornately tailored.

Melissa froze. The embrace continued. There was nothing to suggest a lascivious attack. The hands simply sat on her shoulders. Water dripped off of Melissa's bare body, and the woman's clothing soaked some off of her flesh. After a while, Melissa put her hands around the woman. The woman's cheek rested against Melissa's. It was smooth, and her breath smelled faintly of peanut butter.

Minutes ticked by. Melissa stopped trembling, though the cold air and cold water had brought her temperature down. "Let me get you something to wear," said the voice.

Melissa thought she heard footsteps. Then a door. Then the same door again, then the same footsteps: Very fast, very measured and precise, very delicate.

Melissa felt something heavy around her shoulders. The hands were draping her in a new robe, a heavy fabric that was somewhere between velvet and leather. She snuggled into it, and the hands cinched the robe's belt around Melissa's waist.

"Can you tell me what's going on here?" Melissa asked.

"Not really," said the voice. "My name is Shelley. I represent a different faction."

"Ah," said Melissa.

"A different faction than yours," asserted the voice, gently.

"I don't HAVE a faction," said Melissa.

"That's not what I meant," laughed the voice. "Not Johnson and his people. I know you're not with them."

"God fucking dammit," sighed Melissa, sitting down on the edge of the still fountain. It felt as though it were made of slate. Shelley sat down in Melissa's lap and draped her arms around Melissa's neck. She couldn't have weighed more than 100 pounds.

"I'm not here to make a pitch," said Shelley, speaking quietly into Melissa's right ear. "But I would like to try to explain what I know."

"Okay," said Melissa. "I just wish I could see."

"No dice," said the voice, sadly. "Let's say you want to put souls in eternal communion with God. How does that work?"

"It doesn't, I don't think," said Melissa bitterly.

"Well it can," said Shelley. "Would you give up who you are to be happy, forever?"

"What's the point of being happy if my personality is eviscerated?"

"Your soul would remain."

"Hmm," said Melissa. "Can the two be peeled apart?"

"They can," said Shelley. "And some people make that choice. I think it's the right choice for us to make."

"Why don't you, then?" asked Melissa, more sharply than she had anticipated.

"I'm afraid to," said Shelley. "I'm trying to find someone to do it with me. To make that leap."

"How does one do it?" asked Melissa, her eyes straining against the darkness to see Shelley's form.

"There's an angel you can see," said Shelley. "A woman named Callie. She's enormous, luminous, almost silent, terribly terrifying. I've heard she's dealt directly with God."

"Why don't you see her, then?"

"I don't want to fade away any more than I already have. But an eternity of happiness... will you come with me to see her?"

"Sure," said Melissa. "How do we get there?"

"This way," said Shelley. Her left hand slipped into Melissa's right, and the two of them rose from the fountain. Soon, Melissa and Shelley were walking briskly into the breeze, which was picking up steadily. It felt like a storm was beginning to gather. The corridor was getting wider now, and the walls felt further and further away. There were swirls and eddies in the breeze as it cascaded off stone imperfections. Melissa felt her heartbeat rise.

After hours of walking, the breeze was nearly a gale. Melissa and Shelley walked arm in arm now, using their free arms to hold their flapping robes tightly to their bodies. The cavern felt like an underground football stadium; the breeze was making dramatic vertical swoops that made Melissa think of formations of crazy bats.

And, far away, a tiny light made itself visible against the darkness and rushing air. The light had little strands of light blowing around its head, and Shelley and Melissa made straight for it.

After ten minutes of walking, the light was still tiny. The wind was making Melissa's legs buckle, and she suddenly stepped off into a big, looming nothing. Her right leg swung helplessly through empty air, and she felt her body pitching off what was suddenly revealed as a narrow stone causeway.

Shelley pulled her back from the edge, with surprising strength and focus. Melissa sat down, and caught her breath. The wind picked up another notch. It reminded her of the heart of a Midwestern thunderstorm.

Miles away, something made of light stood motionless, its hair blowing in the subterranean storm.

chapter twenty: opt out? >>>