Afterlife Chronicles

Taking Flight

I fall.

The wind howls past my ears as the world above disappears, swallowed by distance and shadow. My heart is lodged somewhere in my throat, pounding so violently it feels like it might burst out of my chest.

I don’t even know if I’m praying anymore.

Just… thinking. Hoping.

Begging.

Please—anything—anyone—just let me survive this.

A roar erupts from above, distant but powerful, echoing through the air like something monstrous has been denied its prey. My stomach twists, but relief follows quickly after.

Whatever was chasing me… I escaped it.

But now—

Where am I falling to?

I force myself to look down.

And immediately regret it.

Sharp rocks.

Endless, jagged, merciless spikes waiting below like open jaws.

My breath catches.

“Oh God…”

Am I about to die… again?

“Fly.”

The voice cuts through everything.

Clear. Commanding.

I freeze mid-panic, my eyes darting wildly around.

“Hello?” My voice trembles. “Who said that?”

Nothing.

Just the rushing wind.

Then again—

“Fly.”

“What?” I gasp, panic rising. “With what?!”

There’s no answer.

The ground is getting closer.

Too close.

My mind spirals, struggling to process anything beyond the sheer terror clawing at my chest.

And then—

“Use your imagination,” the voice says, calmer this time. Closer. “Your willpower—whatever you humans like to call it. Just… stop yourself from falling.”

I let out a shaky, breathless laugh.

“That’s not how physics works!”

No response.

No correction.

Just the ground rushing up to meet me.

I don’t have time to argue.

I squeeze my eyes shut, my entire body trembling as I focus—really focus—for the first time since all of this started.

Stop.

Just stop.

I imagine it.

My body suspended in the air. Weightless. Still.

But nothing changes.

The wind still screams past me.

The rocks still rise.

“It’s not working!” I shout, panic cracking my voice.

Closer.

Closer.

I try again.

This time, I don’t think about stopping.

I think about floating.

Light.

Weightless.

Free.

The image forms in my mind—clearer, stronger, more desperate.

And suddenly—

The wind… stops.

Silence crashes over me.

My eyes snap open.

I’m hovering.

Just inches above the spikes.

A broken gasp escapes me as fear, relief, and disbelief collide all at once. My body trembles violently as I stare down at the rocks beneath me—so close I can almost feel them tearing through me.

“Oh my God…”

“Wonderful.”

The voice again.

But this time—it’s right behind me.

I whip around.

And freeze.

Wings.

Massive, feathered, impossibly real wings stretch out behind him, catching the light like they belong to something not meant for this world. His golden hair is slicked back effortlessly, matching the sharp lines of his brows and the neatly shaped facial hair framing his jaw. A goatee. A mustache. His face is… perfect. Too perfect.

Not human.

Not even close.

An angel.

“Don’t be afraid,” he says smoothly—

Then immediately breaks into laughter.

“Oh—wait, no. That’s the part where I’m supposed to be comforting, right?” he adds, waving a hand dismissively. “Terrible habit. Ignore that.”

I blink at him.

He’s still laughing.

“You should absolutely be afraid,” he continues, grinning. “After what you’ve just been through? I’d be terrified. Honestly, I would’ve cried halfway down and accepted my fate. You, though?” He tilts his head, studying me. “You’ve got spirit. I like that.”

I just stare at him.

Because this—

This is not what I imagined.

Angels weren’t supposed to sound like this.

Weren’t supposed to act like this.

He keeps talking, but the words blur together as my thoughts spiral out of control.

Dead.

Am I really…?

The word echoes in my mind, louder this time.

My chest tightens.

My head spins.

None of this makes sense.

None of this feels real.

“Where am I?” I finally manage, my voice quieter now. Smaller.

That gets his attention.

He stops talking.

Really looks at me.

And something in his expression shifts.

Softens.

“Oh,” he says gently. “Right. That part.”

He exhales, rubbing the back of his neck like he’s done this a thousand times.

“I know it’s a lot,” he says, his tone calmer now. “But… you’re in heaven.”

My breath stops.

“You’re dead,” he adds, not unkindly. “And the sooner you accept that, the easier this will be for you.”

Something in me snaps.

“What do you mean I’m dead?” I shoot back instantly, my voice sharp, defensive.

He sighs.

“Ah. One of those.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” he says, stepping closer, “you’re not taking this well.”

“Of course I’m not taking it well!” I snap. “I was just— I was driving and— and—”

My voice breaks.

I can’t even finish the sentence.

He watches me quietly for a moment.

Then leans in slightly, lowering his voice.

“Quick advice,” he murmurs. “It doesn’t always end well for the veilborns who don't accept this truth.”

My heart stutters.

“The… what?”

But he’s already pulling back, wings shifting as he lifts slightly into the air.

“Come along,” he calls casually. “We’re running late, and trust me—you don’t want to miss this.”

“Miss what?” I demand, pushing myself upward—only to realize, with a jolt, that I can move like this now.

I’m flying.

The realization hits me mid-air, but there’s no time to process it.

“The initiation,” he replies simply.

Initiation?

Before I can ask anything else, we descend.

And then I see it.

I stop mid-air.

Because—

There’s no way.

A massive gate towers before us, stretching impossibly high, its structure carved with intricate designs that seem to shift the longer I stare. Beyond it—

A city.

No.

Something more.

Buildings rise into the sky, vast and breathtaking, their architecture unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Figures with wings move through the air effortlessly, crossing paths like this is the most normal thing in the world.

My breath leaves me completely.

“This is…”

“Welcome,” the angel says, his voice carrying a quiet pride now, “to the Citadel.”

I don’t respond.

I can’t.

Because as I stare at it—really stare—it finally settles in.

I don’t know how I died.

I don’t know why I’m here.

I don’t even know what any of this means.

But one thing is becoming painfully clear—

This isn’t the end.

It’s the beginning of something else.

Something I don’t understand yet.

And whether I like it or not…

I’m already part of it.