I came back to reality like cold honey being poured through a funnel.

  At first, all I could smell was dirt. Horse? It was cold. Then, I felt like I was floating… Finally, I smelled smoke. Incense?

  I tried to open my eyes. They hurt. Everything was hazy. Then, everything went dark again.

  ***

  I woke up. I was lying on something soft. Was I in a bed? How did I get home? I tried to turn my head, but my neck was killing me. What did I do last night?

  I opened my eyes. The ceiling above me had thick wooden rafters. The walls were stone. No. I couldn't be home. This definitely wasn't my bed.

  Groaning like an old man, I tried to sit up, but that wasn’t happening. My head spun. I felt like I was on a boat. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and waited for the sensation to pass. Instead of my eyes, I tuned in to my other senses.

  The air smelled fresh, with a pleasant tinge to it... almost like flowers and wood smoke. Lavender? The sheets were coarse, but the bed was comfortable. Kind of lumpy, but in a good way. My arm itched, but I couldn’t reach it. I could just make out the sound of some kind of animal in the distance. And… children?

  Where was I?

  My brain felt like mush. I remembered being injured. I hurt my arm walking home. Didn't my car break down? That was going to suck. I really didn't have enough money to deal with unexpected repairs right now. I just bought new tires for the thing. Where did I leave my car again?

  I opened my eyes. The spinning hadn’t passed, so I closed them again and waited. As the minutes ticked by, I felt like I had to do something. I started to move my body, carefully testing which parts of me worked and which were broken. I remembered learning somewhere that you always start from the bottom, so I wiggled my toes.

  The sheets were scratchy. They felt like they were made out of some sort of wool, but they felt good and kept my feet warm from the cool, damp air of... wherever I was. I pumped my feet. A sharp pain shot from my right foot into my leg. Damn that hurt. I sucked in air, trying to manage the pain, which subsided a moment later.

  I gathered my confidence and tried again. I tried to move my legs, but my right knee screamed at me and refused to budge. My torso hurt everywhere, but at least I could move, if only a little. I twisted and bent as much as I felt able, which wasn't much. My back protested every movement. My right arm felt fine, probably better than any other part of me, but my left was numb and wouldn't move no matter what I did.

  I reached over to touch it. There were strips of cloth or some kind of primitive bandages sticking to my arm. They felt like they were stuck to my skin. A quick tug told me to leave them be. Instead, I moved my head side to side, slowly so as to not trigger the vertigo. I got hit with the spins again, so I stopped. Once I had limbered what muscles I could, I opened my eyes and took in the room around me. Being a little more limber, I was able to take in more of the room this time.

  Where the hell was I?

  I was in a dimly lit room. The air was heavy with what was definitely some kind of incense. The room was made from stone, with large blocks stacked one on another, separated by kind of dark grey mortar. The walls were sparsely decorated, with only a few small paintings of people I didn't recognize, and there was a large symbol carved into the wall opposite my bed. It was an eight-pointed star with a golden circle in the center. The circle was gold, and each of the points was a different color. I had no idea what that meant. Sunlight filtered through a small window to my right, falling directly on the star, which sparkled in the light.

  Despite my protesting neck, I turned and peered out the window. The bright light outside made my eyes blur, but they slowly adjusted to the sunlight. I could make out simple shapes outside. It looked like a field. They were large brown blobs that clarified into... sheep? Several high-pitched voices were calling to one another farther out in the field, where there was what looked like a cornfield. Their small heads poked out here and there from the crops, only to disappear in them again when their friends chased after them.

  They were children, playing some game.

  Did some Amish people find me in the street and bring me here?

  Oh yeah… There was a storm. That was crazy.

  Using my good arm to sit up a little more, I enjoyed the simplicity of the fields outside. My brain was mush, so that was the best I could do. The sheep were slowly munching on grass, and the laughter of the children was nice. As I watched, I saw some farmers, all of whom were wearing brown robes, working the fields. Was this a cult?

  After watching and smelling and listening for a while, I looked around the room a bit more and saw the floor under my bed was covered by a simple blue and gold woven rug. There was a small wooden table with two chairs in the far corner of the room. A pillar of smoke was rising from a small bowl in the center. That’s where the incense was coming from.

  I couldn’t help but smile. It was all so chill. I couldn't remember the last time I was somewhere this peaceful. It sure as hell beat being at work…

  "Oh shit! I forgot to text Devon!" I reached under the covers to pull out my phone, but there was no phone. Or pants. Or underwear.

  I was naked.

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  At exactly that moment, the events of the previous night rushed back into my head. My Pathfinder fell into a sinkhole! And I got struck by lightning! Twice?! My heart raced as all the memories hit me hard. I should be dead. One hundred percent dead. D. E. A. D. Toast. Charcoal in the street. Not sitting in some idyllic pastoral heaven filled with incense and sheep.

  Wait...

  ...I fucking died.

  That was the only logical explanation.

  Was I in heaven?

  That had to be it. There were sheep outside. Sheep for the shepherd. God was a shepherd, right? Something, something lambs and the meek and all that. Oh God, I know we never talked before, but please let this be heaven and not the other place. I was good, I swear!

  A gentle knock sounded on the door.

  I froze. I hadn’t been bad, but I wasn’t exactly a saint either. It was fifty-fifty. Was there an angel or a demon at the door? This was the moment of truth. I looked for any weapon I could find. The best I could do was a pillow. Holding the pillow between me and the door, I readied myself for what came next.

  The heavy wooden door swung open. A large matronly woman with heavy, tired eyes and a wide, professional smile entered the room, her greying hair pulled back in a bun. Her ample body was covered in a blue and gold robe of some rough-looking material. Probably wool. Sheep. Shepherd. God. I was in heaven. I relaxed and put the pillow down as she entered the room.

  She didn't look at me. Her motions seemed automatic, like she was merely going through the motions of entering the room and performing her duties. She walked to the incense burner, lit another stick, then turned to walk toward me. She pulled my sheets down and tightened the corners, then walked to the end table and moved some flowers I hadn’t noticed were in a vase by my bed. She shuffled to the other side of the bed, and only then did she look up and realize I was awake.

  Her eyes opened slightly, and she spoke in a melodic language I didn't recognize: "Ho, vi estas veka! Bone. Tre bone. Sankte!" Her eyes lifted to the ceiling, and she clasped her hands in front of her very large breasts. No one could say she wasn’t gifted. I mean, the things were like watermelons. Between them, an amulet rested on her chest. It was an eight-pointed star made out of silver with a diamond. The thing looked like it was glowing with some internal light, but that was impossible.

  When I didn’t respond, she dropped her hands and said, "Kiel vi fartas?" The woman smiled brightly, well-worn laugh lines appearing around her eyes. She seemed nice. I was getting more confident that I ended up in the good place.

  I shook my head, which caused my brain to spin. I didn't understand a word of what she said. "I don't know what you're saying, ma'am. Does anyone in heaven speak English?" I tried to speak slowly so she could understand me. That never worked, but it would work this time, right?

  "Pardonu min, sinjoro. Mi ne komprenas viajn vortojn." She shook her head and patted my cheek. " Vi estis grave vundita kiam Na-Ya trovis vin, mia filo. Vi sekuras nun." Her voice was strong, gentle. Comforting. She stepped closer and handed me a glass of water from my end table. "Trinku."

  I didn't realize how thirsty I was. I downed the glass in one go. The water tasted fabulous. So pure and cool. Like that premium bottled stuff that came in glass bottles that only rich people drank.

  "Bone, filo. Vi ne veki?is dum tri semajnoj. Ni ne sciis se vi travivos. Na-Ya, Renard, kaj mi resanigis vin multajn fojojn ?i tiujn pasintajn semajnojn. Mi ?ojas, ke vi estas veka." She smiled again and took my glass. She moved across the room and placed it on the desk in the far corner, then returned to the bedside.

  "Yeah... totally." I didn't know what to say. She seemed to be talking as much to herself as to me. Her words felt sincere but practiced, like an overworked ER nurse talking to patients or a teacher speaking to students. She must be a priestess up here in heaven. Why didn't God teach people up here English? Worse, why was I all torn up? I always thought I'd hit the pearly gates in great shape, but I guess it made sense that our souls would have to heal for a bit. Also, what the fuck? Why did Earth suck so much? Once I met that God guy, I was going to give him a lashing for making such a shitty world before this one.

  "Vi devas pli da resanigo. Pardonu min, filo. ?i tio doloros," she said gravely, a shadow crossing over her face. She reached down and grasped my left hand in hers. She began inspecting my hand, moving my fingers, rotating my arm and wrist while murmuring to herself. She traced her fingers up and down my charred skin. Between the bandages, red lines snaked up and down my arm.

  Blood. That was blood. The lines were probably where my skin had split from the lightning. They even looked kind of jagged, like lightning. That had to be it. I’d seen the pictures.

  She started rubbing her fingers up the lines. Not cool. "Um, could you maybe use gloves? Or some antiseptic? Alcohol? Wet wipes?" I didn't know where her hands had been. "At least wash your hands or something."

  I knew she didn't understand me, but as the last word left my mouth, she pulled a vial of what looked like water or alcohol out of her wide belt, dripped it on her hands, and rubbed it into her skin. She whispered some kind of chant as she did. Then, she closed her eyes and began singing in a soft, melodic tone. It sounded like prayer.

  "I really don't need to be saved today, thanks." Her voice was nice, but this was weird. "Seriously, it's cool."

  And that's when I noticed her hands were starting to glow white.

  "The hell?"

  Before I could stop her, she pressed her hands onto my left arm. At first, she simply placed them on the bandages, but slowly she began working down my arm to my wrist and ending at my fingers. I didn't feel anything at first, but once she did that motions a couple times, I could feel a slight tingling in my shoulder. With another pass, I felt more. My heart skipped a beat.

  With every pass, more and more sensation filled my arm as she massaged that weird white light coming from her hands up my arm and into my shoulder and neck. Every time, she ended at my fingers and returned to my shoulder and neck. Eyes closed and lips chanting, she worked with precision.

  It was weird, but by the fifth pass of this routine, I could wiggle my fingers, and my arm was starting to itch.

  "Ohh... that's so much better..." I groaned as my arm came back to life. My throat caught as I wiggled my fingers more. They didn't move a lot, but they moved.

  “Silentu, filo.” She kept doing this routine, and with every pass of her hands down my arm, I gained more sensation and movement.

  However, something else came with it… pain. By the seventh pass, it didn't feel good anymore. It hurt. A lot. "Um... that's okay. That feels great. Thank you. Really. I think we're good now." I tried to move away from her, but her hands were like vice grips.

  She started her eighth pass.

  This time, I gained much more sensation, and some of the burns on my arm began to feel like, well, burns. My arm felt like it was on fire. "Okay. That's enough. Seriously. I'm good now! Thanks!" I squirmed in the bed, tried to shimmy out the other side, but her firm hands kept me exactly where I was lying. I reached out and grabbed the far bed post. Pulling with all my strength, I didn't budge at all. Her grip was steel.

  "Pardonu min. Ne movi?u. Vi bezonas ?i tion," she said sternly, holding me in place. How was she so strong?

  “Nope. All good. We’re done now!”

  She didn’t listen.

  By the tenth pass, I was screaming. By the fifteenth pass, I was an incoherent blob of flesh. By the twentieth pass of her infernal glowing demon-light hands, I realized I wasn't in heaven—I was in hell.