Elias wasn’t upset about dying. He’d gone out like a boss after all, no regrets in sight. The only thing he was even a little upset about was that his swift exit hadn’t given him enough time to properly appreciate just how awesome his final goodbye had been. If the afterlife had the internet and he could’ve gone online to read the review of his final masterpiece then he would’ve been truly at peace.

  So, when instead of pearly gates or the endless darkness of the void, the first thing he saw upon dying what a desk with a computer his heartbeat skipped with hope. It was a hope that only lasted a few moments however, fading into confusion when he realized just how familiar said desk and computer was. He looked around. Familiar chairs, familiar bookshelves, familiar carpet. When he looked down and saw the familiar body lying at his feet, he couldn’t help feeling more bemusement than he thought was fair for a dead man to have to deal with. He had been in this room just a short time ago, been the one to put that body on the floor (yes, he’d killed Kevin. He wasn’t sorry about killing Kevin. Kevin deserved to die. Fuck Kevin), and had left it to face certain death, sure in the knowledge he would never return again.

  Standing there, Elias got the distinct impression that he had fallen into the restful arms of death, only for death to unceremoniously toss him right back out again. He wasn’t sure how to handle that kind of rejection.

  For a brief time his head spun with theories and thoughts, each wilder than the last. Was he in a death loop? Did he have to do all that all over again? That would be terrible. There wasn’t anything he wanted to fix and you don’t add strokes to a masterpiece, so it could only get worse from here. Was this divine punishment for being too awesome?

  Then his senses caught up with his mind and told him this wasn’t real. The room didn’t have the familiar scent of cigars he knew and hated so well and the body at his feet didn’t smell either. The closer he looked the more the whole scene gave off a feeling of artificiality. A feeling that was only enforced when he noticed the haziness of the view outside the windows. Where there used to be familiar sights there was now only a dull, dark void that made him feel like this room was the only thing that existed in a vastness of nothing. A precarious lifeboat in an unending ocean.

  And that’s when he noticed the little girl.

  She was sitting on the desk, watching him while kicking her legs out playfully. She was small, only tall enough to make it to his waist. Small and thin. Her hair was the color of dark chocolate, easily mistaken for black and her eyes a deep indigo that reminded him of the night sky, both standing out starkly to her pale skin. It didn’t escape him that her appearance matched his own, making her look like the little sister he didn’t have.

  Seeing her gave him the immediate feeling that she had been there the entire time, but that he was only now able to notice. He looked around again. Familiar room. Dead body. Strange magical girl. This sure was a peculiar postmortem hallucination.

  The girl tilted her head and a child's voice whispered in his mind. Who says I’m a hallucination?

  Elias raised an eyebrow at the only possible source and the little girl stared back, blinking her eyes innocently like she hadn’t just proven she could both speak into his mind and read his thoughts.

  Elias had questions. So many questions. Also, some complaints. Because if this was how his afterlife was supposed to go, with a little girl playing his lost innocence while confronting him with his greatest sin, then he was sorry, but that’s some bullshit.

  The girl giggled and he narrowed his eyes at her. That was the second time she’d reacted to something he hadn’t said. He really didn’t like that. In fact, the more he studied her, the more he didn’t like her at all.

  Her long hair hung loose and messy, like it hadn’t been brushed in a while and there was dirt smudged on her face. She wore a plain blue dress a couple sizes too big, one side in constant danger of falling off her tiny shoulder and lending her a neglected, pitiful air.

  Everything about her set him on edge, not because she felt threatening but because she felt perfectly designed not to. Her small size, delicate frame and neglected, familiar appearance, while normally disarming, had the exact opposite effect on him for three reasons.

  For one, she was here in his post death debrief (where she definitely didn’t belong). Second, she could clearly read his mind so innocent, helpless child she was not. And third, her entire appearance was so perfectly suited to play on his sympathies that her appearance had to be by design.

  Perhaps it was due to his dream-like situation, but without any context other than what he saw before him he was suddenly certain she was wasn’t a child at all. That this was only the chosen face of something he didn’t understand, having already dug around in his head to find out the best appearance to use against him.

  Not use against. The girl’s mind-voice protested, her little hands waving in denial, yet not denying his other suspicions. You distrust most people on sight, but you’re slightly more lenient with children. I believed this was the best form to take to get you to talk with me. Was I wrong?

  Elias was pretty sure it didn’t matter what face the thing wore if everything else about it was suspicious as fuck, but he supposed it did have a point. Here it was, being super suspicious, and he hadn’t even tried to kill it yet. Maybe the child look really did work against him. Elias mentally shook his head at the little girl. Looking through his mind was bad enough, but then using that ill-gotten knowledge to make valid points was just rude.

  He felt a surge of irritation followed by an unwillingness to further engage with someone who didn’t actually speak with him and who was currently reading him like a book. Trying to trick him into talking with her? Ha! Just see if it works!

  Sorry dear, I can’t help it. The little girl shrugs, looking the perfect picture of innocence. You are an open book to my eyes. I simply cannot see you in any other way. As for how I speak to you, I commune with you like this because it is gentler. If I did actually speak to you, your soul would likely disintegrate from the impact.

  He looked away. That did sound like a pretty legit reason, but like hell did he want to admit that. He just met her, she could totally be lying for all he knew.

  When he looked back the girl was smiling at him and he tried not to think anything, unwilling to play along. Seeming to recognize this, she hopped down off the desk and went to stand next to body on the ground. She crouched down, hugging her knees and peering at it before reaching out and lightly poking at it. Then she looked up at him curiously.

  Did you know who was giving him his orders when you killed him?

  He gave her a flat look. If he was really an open book then she knew damn well what his answer was. She huffed and rested her tiny chin on her knees, looking pouty and wronged.

  Since I can’t help but know your insides, asking you questions instead of acting on knowledge you didn’t give me is the best I can do. She finally said in response to his earlier unspoken challenge, her mental tone sounding just the right mix of self-righteous and defensive.

  He didn’t love the phrasing about his insides, but he supposed it was as good a reason as he could think of. She was attempting to be considerate despite the odd situation, and he supposed he could attempt to appreciate that.

  “Why am I here?” He asked, choosing to play along and verbalize the question he was sure she was already aware he had. As for tricking him to talk with her? Well, fine, it worked. Happy?

  She tilted her head at him in a way that made him certain he wasn’t going to get an immediate answer. I haven’t introduced myself yet, have I? Hello Elias, you may call me Mother.

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  “Excuse me?” He looked the tiny little girl over to make sure she was still a tiny little girl, his eyebrows shooting up.

  Most people call me Mercy. When she thought the word Mercy at him there was a faint trembling to the world that felt like thunder in the distance, giving him a feeling of power rather than benevolence. He thought he could almost hear the distant sound of screaming and someone begging for help before the sensation faded, reminding him of an older kind of mercy where a rock to the head to put a person out of their misery was the greatest kindness they could hope for. The moment left him with an intensely ominous feeling, yet he remained abnormally calm. Perks of being dead, he supposed.

  The girl, Mercy, stood up to her full height, the top of her head level with his belly button and her eyes fixated on him in a way that struck him as a touch too interested. To answer your question, you are here because I wanted to meet you. You would not know it, but I have observed your life, and your death, and I have decided to take you in as my ward. Therefore, as one of my children, you may call me Mother.

  Unlike her other name, the word Mother had a sense of actual benevolence to it. It was a subtle sensation, which was probably why he hadn’t noticed it the first time, but compared to \her other name it now stood out by sheer contrast. There was a warmth and affection to the title that was all-encompassing. As though he were being offered something unconditional. Which, ironically, made him even warier than her name Mercy had. Power, violence and danger were easily recognized, but he knew manipulation and control tended to come in more welcoming packages.

  “What does it mean to be your ward? And do I have a choice?” He asked his apparent stalker. Putting aside for the moment the absurdity of getting adopted even after he died, a gift he couldn’t refuse was no gift at all.

  Mercy stepped over the dead body to get closer to him. Being my ward has much meaning, but all you currently need to know is that, as my ward, I will give you a second chance at life in a different world. I can’t guarantee everything will end well for you there one way or the other, and I won’t intervene casually for you, but it does mean you will have the chance to make something more of your life than you could here. She then shook her head at him. And no, you don’t have a choice. No child ever has had a choice about who their Mother was.

  See? No gift at all. It might all sound nice, but he was damn sure there were unseen strings attached. And here she was, shoving those on him like a tiny little street thug offering suspicious loans without telling him the interest rate.

  Looking down at Mercy and taking in her slightly imperious expression, Elias quietly resolved to never call her Mother.

  That said, it was another chance at life. Elias couldn’t deny he found the thought appealing. Sure, he had no regrets about dying—he’d gone out exactly as he wanted to after all—but that wasn’t to say he would turn his nose up at getting another go around. And it would be in an entirely new world so he wouldn’t even have to deal with all those annoying people.

  Thinking it all over, he couldn’t help but study her again. There was nothing that really gave her away as inhuman when she just stood there like that, but the more he looked at her the more he got the feeling that she very much wasn’t human and that if he were anyone but one of her chosen children this wouldn’t be near as pleasant an experience for him.

  For a flash of a moment he got an intense feeling that instead of vast darkness outside this room there was actually a monster so gargantuan, so primal and supremely terrible his mind would break at first glance, all wrapped around this one tiny safe space created just for him. And it was looking inside while the little girl in front of him was the finger puppet it used to act out its desires to interact with him.

  His head ached at the thought and he shrunk from it, suddenly aware that he was dead and if his head was hurting then it was actually his soul that was in trouble. When the feeling faded he found Mercy staring up at him with an all too knowing look.

  “What are you?” Maybe it was that dead person thing again, but he didn’t feel afraid of her despite her turning out to be some eldritch void god. With the brief glimpse he’d gotten came the certainty that, while she could and had done terrible things to many people, he would never be one of them. Perks of nepotism, he supposed. For whatever reason, she was his monster as he was her chosen child. He could cling to his wariness, but it wouldn’t change the fact that the safest place for him was right by her side.

  Not that he wanted to stay there.

  Even if I told you, you wouldn’t understand. But you’ll figure out the basics soon with where you’re going, so don’t worry too much about it. You’ll be able to learn all sorts of new things there. She tilted her head and looked up at him almost hesitantly, her body gently twisting from side to side like a real little girl might. Can I hug you?

  His eyebrows went up again. No. The answer was no. Yet he was pretty sure her asking permission fell into the same category of intentionally acted out politeness as asking questions she already knew the answer to. “Can I say no?”

  She smiled in answer and wrapped her stick thin arms around him. Somehow, he could feel it then, her fondness for him. It was an unprincipled thing of vague origins full of inexplicable dotting that made him uncomfortable. There was more to this creature and what she wanted from him than he could figure out on his own, and it left him feeling out played from the start.

  He pulled back after a couple seconds, now uncomfortably aware that he could do that only because she allowed it. He wasn’t sure if he was more bothered by how nice her undeserved affection felt or how uneasy it made him. Mostly, he just felt tricked and it chagrined. If only she weren’t a small, defenseless looking child he was sure he would've had better defenses against her.

  “Where are you sending me?” Elias wondered if he would have a family in his new life. He wasn’t sure if he wanted one given how his last one had turned out.

  The little girl raised herself up on her tip toes in excitement, eyes sparkling. Telling you would ruin the surprise! Don’t you want to discover it all for yourself?

  No, of course not. Going into the unknown with no information sounded like a terrible idea.

  Mercy giggled and held up three fingers. Alright, I’ll let know you three things. Your new home has monsters, magic and a lot of fun things for you to explore.

  She dropped a finger with each named thing, giving Elias the absurd desire to smack her hand down at the unhelpful explanation. Monsters, magic and things to explore? How was that helpful? The same could be said about his old world! “But where are you sending me? What will my life be like?”

  That’s all the time we have for today I’m afraid, time for you to go! She spread her arms wide open, eyes sparking. Wherever you end up, always remember that Mother loves you the most!

  He didn’t have time to say anything, much less protest, before he found himself surrounded by the darkness he had expected to see after dying. He tried moving and looking around, but with everything being just blackness he couldn’t tell if he succeeded or not. Thankfully, he wasn’t alone in the dark for long.

  Welcome, Elias, to Nachten Gard

  The words come from nowhere, spelling themselves out in flowing golden script in the darkness where Elias thought he left his mind. Or, maybe it was inside his mind and he only thought he could see it floating there. It was hard to say when he wasn’t even sure if he had a body at the moment.

  He could tell immediately that the words weren’t written in a language he should know, the letters more beautiful and brutal then the ones he grew up learning. Yet he could read them just fine.

  Elias didn’t have much time to ponder the words before they faded, leaving him only the darkness again. Something that was again thankfully temporary. He didn’t even have time to start thinking how long he’d be there before sensation returned to him.

  It was a sensation he was familiar with, even one he was expecting. Pain. Which seemed about right to his confused mind until he realized his pain was in all the wrong places. This wasn’t the pain of the wounds that stole his life. It was more a pain that encompassed everything, like electricity scoured his body and left his veins throbbing, or the way someone would feel after training until they literally dropped.

  Rubbed raw and exhausted. Aching and stinging all over, skin too sensitive to touch air without wanting to flinch away. So, in the grand scheme of things, not really all that bad.

  Elias wiggled all his new fingers and toes to confirm he had a body, but it was the pain that convinced him he was alive. He hadn’t been sure how Mercy meant to give him another life, thinking perhaps he would have to start again from the beginning or that he might even lose his memories. Yet, here he was, in a body that was clearly not his own and definitely not an infant’s and, as far as he could tell, possessing all his memories.

  In fact, there was almost too much information to take in as his new lungs filled with air, so he started taking notes on his surroundings before he even tried opening his eyes. The air he breathed was cool with a slight breeze, so he was outside. He couldn’t feel the sun on him and the air had that slightly cleaner smell of night. He wasn’t lying on the ground, the surface beneath him too soft for that, though no more comfortable. There was another, more subtle scent that seemed familiar yet foreign in a way his thoughts slipped off of, putting the note aside for the moment.

  Opening his eyes, the starry sky above confirmed in a glorious, irrefutable parade of stars that it was the night sky of another world. All his familiar constellations absent, replaced by different celestial configurations that seemed more plentiful and vibrant than his last set.

  Elias casually noted that there were tree branches edging his view of the sky, telling him that he was likely in the woods somewhere. Then the odd yet familiar smell from earlier identified itself as the scent of cold meat and blood.

  That was when the feel of whatever he was lying on registered in his mind and he slowly turned his head to look at what a part of him already knew was there. It only took a slight shift in perspective to come face to face with the wide open eyes of a dead child, and the feeling under his body clicked in his mind as the lumpy, cold sensation of naked, dead flesh.

  He was lying on a pile of corpses.