Dead.

  Zephaniah was surely dead.

  He died in the dark pit of an impossibly large creature.

  Some might say he died when a dark umbral blade was plunged into his chest.

  He might have been good as dead from when his wrist was torn off and way too much blood was pouring from his arm.

  Some might even claim he was dead the moment he listened to that voice and decided to turn around to go back to Jodie's house.

  No matter which way you look at it, Zeph was nonetheless dead.

  Shortly after his death, he found himself staring dumbly at a bright, white landscape. A stark contrast to the netherly underworld he just died in.

  Above was an endless expanse of rolling white clouds with the light of an obscured golden sun warmly hugging their edges. The clouds tumbled and spilled despite lacking the slightest of breezes.

  The ground was even more wondrous in that it appeared to be a near-perfect mirror of the sky above it. It was like the surface of a still body of water that stretched further than the eye could see. It reflected the spectacular rolling cotton above him without error with the exception of occasional ripples that intersected without origin.

  Bewilderment soon waned to anxiety. His eyes darted in every direction, spinning around, hoping to find some sort of landmark or feature. Every which way he looked was empty and indistinguishable from the last. Looking at the sky, he was unable to pinpoint where the source of the light was coming from. The clouds plumed and billowed, obscuring the elusory light behind them. Without a sun to follow, there was absolutely no sense of direction.

  He was lost.

  "Welcome to Heaven." A voice came from behind and above him.

  "Ah!" Zephaniah started and turned around to find the source of the voice.

  He looked up at the person standing atop an all-too-tall podium, barely peering over the edge back down at him. The structure was some sort of stone like marble with ornate carvings that made it look ancient but brand new at the same time. Zeph couldn't get a look of the podium-person from the angle he had at the base, but he was pretty sure they weren't threatening. He was also certain this structure was not behind him a moment ago.

  "Wooah. Jumpy one. You must have had a rough trip. Exciting!" the head frosty white hair bounced with the syllables over the top edge of the podium, flashing a little more of the crystal blue eyes that remained locked on Zeph.

  He wasn't sure which aspect of their beauty stood out more to him. The flawless androgynous pale face, the snowy white hair, or the sky blue eyes that all seemed so other-wordly. Matching white lashes blinked on those cheerful eyes, needing no help for the still obscured mouth to show that they were smiling.

  "Oh yes, I know you." The podium man began before unleashing a torrent of jubilated sentiments. "You're late! Oof, very late. Still, welcome-welcome-Welcome! Better late than never, I always say. Believe me, I know a good guy when I see one. Congratulations! You did it. You weren't a dick."

  "Who are you?" Zephaniah broke his focus on the podium to take in the sight of the sky once again. "And what is this place?"

  The man rolled back on his heels to also take in the beauty of the realm around them, putting him completely out of sight once again. "This, Zephaniah Rios, is Heaven. Well, sort of. This is actually the front gates but it's more like a formality. It's pretty much Heaven. We basically just need to check a few boxes and you can be on your way to the afterlife! As for your other question..." He peeked over the edge again and paused for an effect that was lost on Zephaniah but still earned his attention.

  He grinned an illustrious pearly white smile and introduced himself.

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  "You can call me Pete."

  "Am I dead?" Zeph responded.

  "Not a requirement, but yes, you are quite dead. Weird how everyone asks that..." Pete trailed off before starting again. "Doesn't matter now! Welcome to the Gates of Heaven. Like I was saying, it's pretty much a formality. We just need to verify your sanctity and cause of death."

  Pete disappeared again and flipped some papers just out of view. "Ooh, babysitting? Self-sacrifice to save an innocent? Never double parked, not even once? This is practically open and shut. You should have no pro-"

  Something Pete saw stopped his verbal onslaught.

  It was like the speeding train Zeph was on suddenly came to a complete stop. "What?"

  A few more seconds passed and a sense of worry found him. "Why did you stop?"

  "That can't be right..." Pete trailed off again but this time it didn't seem like he was talking to Zeph.

  "What's wrong?" Zeph's voice cracked. The realm they were in was unlike anything he had ever experienced but something in Pete's voice gave him an eerily familiar feeling.

  "But he- How could he be-?" Pete began to ramble and the feeling in Zeph's chest grew to a panic.

  "Hey!" His shout was followed by a sudden rustle of paper, seeming to startle Pete. "What's going on up there, huh? Is there some sort of problem?"

  "Uh, it's okay, Zephaniah. I just- I just need someone else to take a look at this. Hold on!" With a wave of his hand that Zeph couldn't see, a tall grizzled man walked close to Zeph from his side.

  Zeph jumped. A second before, he could swear he was alone at the base of the towering podium. The new man leaned over to examine Zeph closely. Zeph was 6 foot 1 inches when he was alive but now was staring up at the man like a child.

  The stranger was somewhat ragged, and aged, wearing creases at the corner of eyes and on his forehead. It was like he had seen too much and didn't like what he saw. His hair was an unkempt dirty brown with a few stray grays riddle throughout. Even his clothes screamed noir with a dark brown trench coat and drab white collar shirt with a matching cigar, leaking smoke into the air above him. Despite the tobacco smoke, Zeph noticed he smelt surprisingly sweet, like cinnamon and maple.

  "What is it, Peter?" The man turned to his right where the podium was, but when Zeph followed his gaze, the imposing structure had shrunk to a simple and meager size. As meager as a solid marble podium could be. Next to it stood Pete, now sharing the floor as Zeph and the cigar-man, carrying an open, ornate hard bound book.

  "This soul, here. Zephaniah. Look at this!" Pete lifts the book with book hands, angling the right page so as to present that side in favor of the other. The cigar-man took a couple steps and leaned over to read the area of concern.

  "Well, that can't be right." The man leans in as if there was something hiding between the lines on the page that he might have missed.

  "That's what I said! But this-" Pete jabs his finger into the text audibly for emphasis. "This is never wrong. It can't be wrong! It's immutable!"

  Both men turned their heads up to inspect Zeph once again. Zeph tried to decipher the look that spreads across both men's faces, picking up notes of confusion and a little distrust. "Will one of you just tell me what the fuck is going on? Oop... can I cuss here?"

  The grizzled man takes a long drag from his cigar before billowing out a smog that he breaks immediately by walking past the other two. He stops only a few feet away, leaving an open area between him and Zeph. "It's probably better shown. I need to see what happened before you died that caused this."

  Pete coughed while swatting away the smoke that the man left behind. "I really wish you wouldn't smoke."

  "What's it going to do? Kill you?" He didn't say it as a joke. It seemed he meant the words with more point and disdain than should be appropriate given the setting. "Look, now, kid. The reflection pool."

  Zephaniah did so, looking at the area of the floor that the man was now gesturing toward. The rippling but otherwise perfect mirror of the heavenly sky darkened to deep gray clouds, a somber contrast to the bright white and gold clouds still above them.

  After all the sudden changes and the experiences he had been having, seeing the image of the dark clouds part and reveal the late evening street of Jodie's neighborhood couldn't surprise him. But it did chill him. It was like seeing a movie unfold on the liquid surface they stood on. A movie in which he happened to star in.

  The image on the watery grew rapidly as it zoomed on from overhead Jodie's house. It locked onto the front door as it opened, painting the lawn in rich yellow light. Then the image started to emit sound, causing ripples to form at its edges.

  "Sorry, Jodie! I forgot I-uhh - have someplace to be! See you guys tomorrow. Tell booger I said 'Good night!" And a nervous Zephaniah escaped from the house, slamming the door in a way that made both the image version and real-Zeph wince.

  The real Zephaniah watched, transfixed on the recording of him. It felt so real to him- almost alive but surely it was just reflection in water. He watched his copy walk down the driveway and continue over the sidewalk. The view stayed locked on the house and the little image-Zeph walked to the edge of its frame before disappearing in a small stray ripple.

  The real-Zeph watched that ripple curiously, wondering how such a thing could work. He continued to follow the ripples till they would meet his feet. Though they didn't meet his feet. Instead, the ripples met the edges of a soft gelatinous appendage that he somehow immediately recognized as part of him.

  "AH!" Zeph's startled scream caught the attention of the two men who seemed to be muttering to each other over the image before they were so rudely interrupted. Zeph stumbled backwards falling on what he now considered to be his backside but is more aptly described as more of the same gelatinous fluid. "My body! I'm- I'm a slime!"