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Felix Slater woke up dead. Or at least, that’s what the man in the electric-blue suit told him. The room smelled of burnt toast and lemon polish, which felt strangely appropriate for what appeared to be a divine waiting lounge. A flickering neon sign above the desk read:
“AFTERLIFE PROCESSING—TAKE A NUMBER”
He didn’t know how he end up here. One sec, he was stepping off the curb, phone in hand, then—gone. No truck. No crash. No pain. Just this… emptiness, like something had been erased. His breath, maybe. His heartbeat.
Felix patted himself down. He still had arms, legs, and the same cheap suit he had worn to work every day. But his pockets were empty. No wallet. No keys. Just a small slip of paper crumpled in his palm. A lottery ticket.
“Number seventy-three!”
A bored voice cut through the low hum of murmuring souls. Felix turned toward the counter, where a man in thick glasses tapped a clipboard.
“That’s me,” Felix said, stepping forward.
The man sighed. “Lucky you.” He gestured to a massive golden wheel behind him. Its sections gleamed in the fluorescent light: Celestial Bliss, Eternal Damnation, and—ominously—Customer Service Representative.
Felix’s stomach twisted. “So… what? The afterlife is a lottery?”
The man scoffed. “What’d you expect, a merit system? Too much paperwork. Spin the wheel.”
Felix hesitated. The people around him seemed eerily calm, some clutching their own tickets with a quiet resignation. No one fought. No one ran. That alone told him something was off.
“Wait,” Felix said. “What if I refuse?”
The man laughed. “Refuse? Buddy, you’re already here. What’s your alternative?”
Felix looked around. No doors. No windows. Just an endless line of people waiting for their turn.
“Fine,” he muttered and grabbed the wheel.
It spun with a metallic clatter, the ticking sound loud in the stillness. Faster. Faster. Slowing. Felix felt his nonexistent heartbeat hammer as the arrow inched toward Celestial Bliss, then jerked sharply and landed on—
Reassignment.
The room hushed. A woman behind him whispered, “Oh, that’s unlucky.”
The man at the desk whistled. “Oof. Tough break.”
Felix frowned. “What does that mean?”
The man’s lips curled up as he nudged the clipboard forward, its metal clip clacking against the desk. “Congratulations. You’re our new Grim Reaper.”
Felix’s mouth went dry. “You’re joking.”
“I wish.”
His fingers trembled as he grabbed the paper. The letters twisted, shifting under his gaze. His name faded, replaced with a title:
GRIM REAPER #75492
Before he could argue, his body convulsed. Pain—sharp, electric—ripped through him. His skin withered, fingers thinning into bone. A scythe materialized in his grip, its black handle worn smooth by countless hands before him.
Felix barely had time to scream before the universe yanked him into his new job.
* * *
The first thing Felix noticed was the silence.
No hum of traffic. No buzzing fluorescent lights. Just an endless stretch of fog-drenched cobblestones beneath his feet.
He turned, disoriented. Buildings loomed in the mist, their architecture shifting—a cathedral one second, a decrepit hospital the next. Everything felt wrong, like a dream where the details refused to settle.
Then he saw the door.
It stood alone in the fog, wooden and cracked, with a brass nameplate that read:
“Felix Slater, Reaper in Training.”
His stomach knotted. This was real.
A voice cleared behind him. “Took you long enough.”
Felix spun. A woman lounged against a streetlamp, arms folded tight. Her black coat draped over her like shadow, silver hair glinting under the weak light.
“Who—?”
“Eris,” she cut in. “Your mentor. Try an’ keep up.”
She brushed past him, pushing the door wide. No golden gates, no holy light—just a maze of gray cubicles, dim screens blinking, and the thick, burnt scent of coffee long past its prime.
Felix hovered at the entrance. “This… this is where the afterlife gets managed?”
“Some of it,” Eris muttered. “Not the grand place you pictured, huh?”
“I wasn’t planning on dying today.”
She let out a short laugh. “No one ever does.”
A faint rustling came from his left. Felix turned—and his breath caught. A figure hunched over a desk, skeletal fingers gliding over the pages of a thick ledger. It wasn’t wrapped in skin, not really. More like shifting darkness, restless and writhing, bound together in the rough shape of something that had once been human. Its hollow sockets locked onto Felix, its mouth curling into something that almost resembled a grin.
“New recruit?” it rasped.
Eris nodded. “He drew Reassignment.”
The creature chuckled. “Unlucky.”
Felix clenched his fists. “Alright, enough with that. What does a reaper even do?”
Eris arched a brow.
“Well?” Felix let out a slow breath.
The creature exhaled slowly. “I take souls.”
“Not just take them,” she corrected. “Guide them. Some go easy. Others fight. Your job is to ensure they end up where they belong.”
Felix swallowed. “And if I don’t?”
The creature at the desk chuckled. “They don’t leave.”
The weight of that settled in his gut. He turned back to Eris. “And where exactly do they go?”
She glanced at a nearby monitor. The screen flickered with static before flashing a single name:
“Harold Keating, Age 72. Time of Death: 11:46 P.M.”
Eris grabbed a file from the desk and tossed it to Felix. “You’re up, rookie.”
His fingers tightened around the folder. The name felt heavier than it should.
Eris smirked. “Welcome to the job.”
* * *
Felix hovered at the edge of the hospital bed.
The old man barely moved, each breath a struggle. The machines hummed, their slow beeps marking time he no longer had. Beyond the window, the city shone on, indifferent.
Felix tightened his hold on the scythe. “So… what do I do?”
Eris leaned against the wall. “Cut the tether.”
“Tether?”
She pointed. Felix traced her stare—and his gut twisted.
A thin, flickering thread reached out from the old man’s chest, trembling in the void. Its light wavered—unsteady, fragile—like a candle struggling against a restless breeze.
Felix hesitated. “And then what?”
Eris tilted her head. “Depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether he’s ready.”
Felix’s grip tightened. Something in the air shifted—the old man’s eyes fluttered. He saw them.
Felix stepped forward. “Harold?”
The man blinked blearily. His lips parted, voice hoarse.
“…I thought it would hurt.”
Felix hesitated. “Does it?”
Harold smiled faintly. “No.”
His eyes softened. The tension in his body eased. Felix knew, without being told, that he was ready.
With a slow breath, Felix lifted the scythe.
The tether snapped.
A rush of air filled the room—silent, powerful, like an exhale from something beyond. Harold’s body stilled. His soul shimmered, weightless, before dissolving into light.
Felix let out a shaky breath. “That’s it?”
Eris nodded. “That’s it.”
Felix turned away from the bed, his chest heavy with something he couldn’t name.
Eris clapped him on the back. “You did good, rookie.”
Felix didn’t feel like it.
Because, as Harold’s soul faded, something else stirred in the shadows.
Something watching.
Something waiting.
And for the first time, Felix realized—
This job was going to be much more than just taking souls.
Felix didn’t even get a chance to take in what he’d just done before the hospital room twisted away. Walls sagged like melting wax, the floor gave out like brittle paper, and then—he wasn’t there anymore.
It hit hard—one moment, a dying man’s bedside, the next, his back smacking against cold pavement in some alley that stank of rain and garbage.
He let out a groan and dragged himself upright, wincing. “What the hell?”
“Welcome to the in-between,” Eris said, offering no further explanation.
Felix blinked. The alley seemed to stretch without end, bending and warping like a trick of the light. Dark shapes flickered at the edges, shifting when nothing should have moved. The structures—if they even deserved that name—felt more like distant memories, their edges blurred and unraveling. The air held a restless hum, as if reality itself was on the verge of slipping apart.
His throat felt dry. “Where… are we?”
Eris let out a slow breath. “The waiting place. For those who refuse to leave.”
Felix swallowed. “So… ghosts?”
She gave him a pointed look. “Ghosts? Just souls that won’t let go. Some got things left undone. Others… they ain’t even realized they’re gone.”
A slow shiver ran down Felix’s back. “So… what happens to them?”
Eris didn’t speak immediately. Instead, she dug into her coat and pulled out a worn book, its leather cover peeling at the edges. The pages, fragile and yellowed, rustled softly as she turned them.
Her finger stopped on a name.
Marlene Hastings, Age 29. Time of Death: 12:07 A.M.
With a sharp snap, she shut the book. “Guess we’re about to see.”
* * *
Marlene was there, right in the alley where she’d fallen.
She paced back and forth, her figure flickering between real and… something else. Her hands quivered, fingers jerking like they were chasing a thought slipping away. Words spilled out, frantic, uneven, barely stitched together. Her blouse—torn, soaked in blood—clung to her like the past refusing to fade. A gash split open just below her ribs, raw and gaping, but she didn’t even flinch.
Felix sucked in a breath. She had no idea.
Eris elbowed him. “Go on! Your job, rookie.”
Felix stepped forward cautiously. “Marlene?”
Marlene went still. Her eyes met his, wide and searching. For a moment, she seemed… normal. Just someone lost, stranded in a place she didn’t understand.
“Who—who are you?” Her voice trembled, each word unsteady, as if they might collapse under their own weight.
Felix hesitated, stealing a glance at Eris. She didn’t offer guidance, just lifted a brow. Your problem. Deal with it.
He sucked in a breath, forcing himself to face Marlene again. “I… I think you’re lost.”
Her expression darkened. “I’m not lost. I’m waiting.”
Felix hesitated. “Waiting for what?”
Marlene’s fingers clenched, nails digging into her palms. “For him. He promised he’d be here. But he never showed.”
A sharp unease twisted in Felix’s gut. Something wasn’t right. “Who was supposed to meet you?”
Her head shook slightly, her gaze distant, unreadable. “It doesn’t matter. I just need to wait a little longer.”
Eris stepped beside him, lowering her voice. “She’s stuck in a loop.”
Felix frowned. “A loop?”
Eris nodded toward Marlene. “She died here, and her mind won’t accept it. Some souls replay their final moments like a broken record, hoping to mend what’s already shattered.”
Felix swallowed hard. “And if she never realizes?”
Eris let out a slow breath. “She’ll stay stuck. Until… something else comes for her.”
A chill scraped down Felix’s spine. Something about the way she said it made his skin crawl.
He stepped closer. “Listen, I know this doesn’t make sense, but—”
A sound ripped through the alley—a low, guttural growl, deep enough to vibrate in his chest.
Marlene went rigid.
Felix’s pulse spiked. “What was that?”
Eris cursed under her breath. “We need to move. Now.”
Felix barely had a moment to process before something clawed its way out of the void.
At first, it seemed like just another shadow, stretched thin and restless. But then it moved—jerky, unnatural—dragging itself upright on limbs that bent the wrong way. Its form was jagged, incomplete, shifting wrongly, as if reality refused to settle on what it should be. Its eyes—if they could even be called that—were nothing but empty voids, swallowing the light around them.
Marlene gasped. “He found me.”
Felix’s blood ran cold. “Who—”
She turned, her expression contorted with something between relief and horror. “I told you he’d come.”
And then she ran toward it.
Felix lunged forward. “No, wait—!”
Too late.
The thing’s limbs snapped out, dragging her into the darkness.
Marlene didn’t scream. She laughed.
And then she was gone.
The alley was silent.
Felix stood stiff, his heartbeat hammering against his ribs. “What the hell was that?”
Eris exhaled, slow and measured. “Some souls don’t wanna be found.”
Felix spun to face her, hands trembling. “You knew this could happen, didn’t you?”
Eris held his stare, unreadable. “I knew it could.”
His teeth ground together. “So that’s it? She’s just—gone?”
Eris’s eyes flickered to the spot where Marlene had vanished. For the tiniest fraction of a second—so quick it might’ve been a trick of the light—something unreadable crossed her face. Regret? Guilt? It vanished before he could be sure.
“No one truly knows,” she muttered.
“But whatever takes them… it’s older than us.”
Felix shuddered. “And what if it comes for me?”
Eris smiled grimly. “Then you run.”
* * *
Felix didn’t sleep that night.
Not that he expected to.
After seeing Marlene’s terrible fate—if that’s even what it was—his mind wouldn’t shut up. Every time he blinked, it replayed like a bad dream. The way she ran toward that… thing. The way it pulled her in like she had always belonged to it. The way she laughed just before the darkness swallowed her.
And worst of all—Eris wasn’t surprised.
She knew. Maybe not everything, but enough. Enough to stand back, let it happen, and call it a possibility.
Felix perched on the edge of his bed, eyes fixed on the floor.
Questions crowded his head—too many, none that really mattered in the end.
By morning, Eris was already there, leaning against a rusted streetlamp like she had all the time in the world.
Felix stepped outside, blinking at her. “You ever sleep?”
Eris smirked. “Not when I don’t have to.”
Felix ran a hand through his hair. “So, what now? More lost souls for me to watch get eaten?”
Eris studied him for a moment, then shook her head. “Not today. Today, you need answers.”
Felix folded his arms. “Finally.”
She motioned for him to follow.
They walked the streets without a word, but an unease crept up Felix’s spine.
It took him a second to notice—no one else was around.
Empty sidewalks. Deserted coffee shops. Bus stops without a soul. Even the usual blaring horns and morning traffic had vanished.
Felix halted. “What the hell is this?”
Eris didn’t even turn. “You’re not in the real city anymore.”
His stomach dropped. “Excuse me?”
She finally glanced back, her expression unreadable. “You’re in the space between.”
Felix swallowed hard. “You mean like that alley?”
Eris nodded. “Except bigger. More stable. You could call it… a training ground.”
Felix exhaled sharply. “Training for what?”
Eris tilted her head. “For what comes next.”
Before Felix could ask what the hell that meant, the world shifted.
The empty street folded in on itself, twisting, warping—rearranging. Buildings unbuilt and rebuilt in the span of a blink. The pavement shuddered beneath him.
Then, like a rug yanked from beneath him, the world bent.
Felix stumbled, grabbing a lamppost before his knees could buckle.
A train station.
Except… it wasn’t right.
The tracks stretched into nowhere. The signs were blank. The benches held figures that weren’t quite people—blurry shapes, hollowed-out forms, shifting like smudges on glass.
Felix’s chest tightened. “What is this place?”
Eris’s voice was quiet. “A crossing point.”
Felix turned to her. “For what?”
She met his gaze. “For them.”
Felix looked back at the figures. They weren’t moving. Weren’t speaking. Just sitting. Waiting.
Then he noticed it.
The lottery machine.
It stood at the center of the station—an old, rusted contraption with a single lever and a glass dome filled with numbered balls.
Felix took a step forward. “What the hell is that doing here?”
Eris didn’t answer.
Instead, she reached into her coat and pulled out the leather-bound book again. She flipped to a page and sighed. “Pick a number.”
Felix frowned. “What?”
Eris nodded toward the machine. “Pick. A. Number.”
Felix hesitated. “And if I don’t?”
Eris glanced at the figures on the benches. “Then they’ll stay. Forever.”
Felix’s mouth went dry.
Felix swallowed hard, his pulse drumming in his ears.
The machine roared to life.
Gears groaned. Glass rattled. Numbers tumbled like shaken bones in a gambler’s cup.
The machine groaned awake. Gears scraped. The glass dome whirled. Inside, numbers clattered like restless bones in a shaking jar.
Then… click.
One rolled out.
Felix picked it up. His pulse pounded in his ears as he read the number: 26.
The station went still.
Eris exhaled. “Well. Let’s see who gets a second chance.”
Felix turned to the benches, watching as one of the blurred figures shifted.
Then—it stood.
The rest remained seated, unmoving.
The chosen one took a slow, careful step forward.
Then another.
And as it walked, the blur around it peeled away.
A woman.
Early fifties. Short, dark hair. A weary expression, like someone who had lived too many lives in too little time.
Her gaze met Felix’s. “Am I… leaving?”
Felix swallowed hard. “I think so.”
The woman exhaled. “Good.”
She stepped past him, toward the station’s edge… toward a door that wasn’t there a second ago.
It opened without a sound.
Beyond it was light.
The woman stepped through.
And then—she was gone.
Felix stood frozen, his mind racing. “What just happened?”
Eris flipped her book shut. “A soul got another shot.”
Felix turned to her. “And the rest?”
Eris didn’t answer.
The station faded.
And suddenly, they were back on the empty city street.
Felix’s stomach twisted. “You’re telling me that was some kind of… of cosmic lottery? You just pull a number, and one of them gets to move on? Just like that?”
Her gaze flickered with something unreadable. “You think you’re the first to say that?”
Felix clenched his fists. “And what happened to them?”
Eris sighed. “Most gave up.”
Felix swallowed hard. “And the ones who didn’t?”
For the first time, her expression shifted… just slightly. A flicker of something almost like regret.
“They became part of the machine. Why do you think I brought you here?”
Felix blinked. “What?”
She offered a small, almost wistful, smile.
“Because if anyone’s going to find another way, it’s you.”
Felix didn’t like what Eris was implying.
That he was supposed to fix this. That he was supposed to come up with some alternative to a system that had existed… who knew how long? Centuries? Millennia?
It was ridiculous.
Except…
The alternative was worse.
Felix exhaled sharply. “Fine. Say I believe you. Say this isn’t just some elaborate fever dream and I really am standing at the crossroads of life and death, pulling numbers for people who can’t move on.”
Eris waited.
Felix turned sharply, his fists tightening. “Then tell me: What happens to the ones who don’t get picked?”
Eris hesitated. Just for a second.
And that hesitation said everything.
A heavy weight settled in Felix’s stomach. “They don’t wait forever, do they?”
Eris hesitated. Then, quietly, “No.”
Felix’s mouth went dry.
He thought back to Marlene. To the way she had vanished into that writhing darkness. The way she had laughed, as if some invisible hand had already decided her fate.
Felix inhaled sharply. “Where do they go?”
Eris’s eyes flickered. “You don’t want to know.”
Felix’s pulse hammered. He did want to know. He needed to know.
But something in Eris’s voice made him pause.
Not fear.
Not even hesitation.
Guilt.
Felix stared at her. “You do this often?”
Eris nodded once. “Every day.”
“And you’ve never…” He shook his head. “Never thought to stop?”
Eris exhaled. “Stopping isn’t an option.”
Felix scoffed. “It’s always an option.”
Eris’s expression darkened. “You think I haven’t tried? You think I haven’t fought this? I was like you once, Felix. I believed things could change.”
Felix frowned. “And?”
Eris hesitated. Then—softer—“And then I saw what happens when you fight something bigger than yourself.”
Felix studied her. “You lost.”
Eris’s jaw tightened. “I survived.”
Felix exhaled. His mind raced.
If she had tried before and failed, then what chance did he have?
And yet… something in him refused to accept this.
He had spent his whole life feeling powerless. Feeling like a passenger in his own story. But now… now he was standing at a threshold most people never even knew existed.
Maybe he couldn’t stop it.
But he could try.
Felix squared his shoulders. “Show me another crossing point.”
Eris blinked. “What?”
Felix clenched his fists. “I want to see more. I want to understand how this works.”
Eris hesitated. “Felix—”
“You said it yourself,” he cut in. “If anyone’s going to find another way, it’s me.”
Eris exhaled. Then, finally… ”Alright.”
The world shifted again.
This time when the city peeled away, they weren’t in a train station.
They were in a classroom.
Except—it wasn’t quite right.
The blackboard had no writing. The desks were too clean. The windows showed nothing but white.
And the students…
Felix’s stomach twisted.
They weren’t moving.
They weren’t breathing.
They were just… sitting.
Waiting.
Eris stepped forward. “This is one of the older crossings.”
Felix swallowed hard. “How long have they been here?”
Eris studied the unmoving figures. “Some? Decades.”
Felix’s chest tightened.
Decades.
Just sitting here.
Waiting for a number that might never come.
Felix gritted his teeth. “This isn’t right.”
Eris didn’t say a word.
At the front of the classroom, the lottery machine waited, its glass dome reflecting the dim light.
Felix stepped forward.
His fingers hovered over the lever, trembling.
Then…
A voice.
Soft. Small.
“Is it my turn?”
His breath caught.
Slowly, he turned.
One of the students—a girl, no older than twelve—was looking at him.
She was the only one moving.
The rest sat motionless, their faces empty.
Felix swallowed hard. “What’s your name?”
The girl hesitated. Then—so quietly he almost didn’t hear it—“I don’t remember.”
Felix’s breath caught.
She looked down at her hands. “I used to, I think. But… it’s been a long time.”
Felix turned to Eris. “She’s not supposed to talk, is she?”
Eris’s expression was unreadable. “No.”
Felix’s pulse pounded. “Then why—”
“She’s close,” Eris murmured.
Felix frowned. “Close to what?”
Eris hesitated. Then… softer, “To disappearing.”
Felix’s stomach dropped.
He turned back to the girl. Her outline was flickering. Faint. Like a candle burning its last.
Felix clenched his fists. “Then she’s the one.”
Eris exhaled. “Felix—”
“I’m pulling the damn number,” he snapped.
And before Eris could stop him—he did.
The machine whirred.
The glass dome spun.
Numbers rattled.
Then… click.
Felix grabbed the ball.
His pulse hammered as he read the number: 47.
He turned to the girl.
And… nothing.
She didn’t move.
Didn’t change.
Didn’t wake up.
Felix’s breath caught.
He turned to Eris. “What’s wrong?”
Eris’s expression was unreadable.
Felix’s chest tightened. “Why isn’t she moving?”
Eris hesitated. Then… quietly, “Because it wasn’t her number.”
Felix froze.
The girl was still looking at him. Still waiting.
But her outline was growing thinner.
She exhaled softly. “Maybe next time.”
Felix’s stomach lurched. “Wait—”
She smiled.
And then—
She was gone.
Vanished.
Like she had never been there at all.
Felix’s breath hitched. He stumbled back, staring at the empty seat.
His hands shook.
He turned to Eris, rage and grief twisting in his chest. “What the hell just happened?”
Eris didn’t answer.
Felix’s voice rose, “WHERE DID SHE GO?”
Eris closed her eyes. Then… softly, “Somewhere you can’t follow.”
Felix’s breath hitched, coming in uneven gasps.
This was wrong.
This was all wrong.
The classroom faded.
And suddenly, they were back in the city.
Felix fell to his knees.
For the first time since this nightmare started…
He wanted out.
But something told him…
He was already in too deep.
Eris didn’t answer right away. She stared down at him, her expression unreadable.
Finally, she crouched beside him, resting her elbows on her knees. “You keep saying that,” she said quietly. “Like the world cares what you want.”
Felix let out a sharp breath. “And you just accept it? This… this system that chews people up and spits them out?”
Eris’s lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “I accept reality. You’re the one still fighting ghosts.”
Felix shook his head. “No. Not this time.”
He pushed himself to his feet. “If the machine runs on rules, then rules can be broken.”
Eris studied him, her expression cautious, almost amused. “And what exactly do you plan to do, Felix?”
He met her gaze, resolve hardening in his chest. “Find a way to break it.”
She exhaled. “There isn’t.”
Felix shook his head. “Bullshit.”
Eris flinched. It was the first real reaction she had shown.
Felix pushed himself to his feet, his hands still trembling. “I don’t believe in ‘this is just the way things are.’ I never have. There’s always a way. Always.”
Eris studied him. “And if there isn’t?”
Felix clenched his fists. “Then I’ll make one.”
Eris let out a slow breath. “You sound like me.”
Felix met her gaze. “What happened when you tried?”
Eris looked away.
Felix exhaled sharply. “You did try, right?”
She hesitated. Then… softly, ”Yes.”
Felix watched her. “And?”
Eris’s jaw tightened. “And I failed.”
Felix frowned. “How?”
She hesitated again. But then, in a voice like crushed glass, she whispered, “Because I pulled the wrong number.”
Felix froze.
His pulse pounded in his ears.
Eris exhaled shakily. “I was like you once. Angry. Stubborn. I thought I could change the rules. I found someone—someone I thought I could save.”
Felix’s breath caught. “And?”
Eris’s expression darkened.
“I was given a choice. Take my place, or let the system keep going.”
Felix’s stomach twisted. “You—”
“I chose to survive,” Eris whispered.
Felix’s mind reeled.
The weight of it—the cruel, sickening design of it all…
Felix’s chest ached.
He turned away, his throat tight.
It made sense now. The way she spoke, the way she looked at him.
Eris wasn’t just a messenger.
She was a warning.
Felix exhaled, his breath shaky. “Then it’s a rigged game.”
Eris didn’t argue.
Felix stared out at the city, his mind a wildfire of half-formed ideas and unrelenting fury.
Then, quietly… “I don’t care.”
Eris stiffened. “Felix—”
Felix held her gaze, searching for something—an answer, a crack in her resolve, anything. But whatever choice she had made, whatever past she carried, she wasn’t going to offer it up.
Fine. He didn’t need her to.
He turned away, fists clenched. “I’ll find my own way.”
Eris didn’t stop him as he walked off into the neon-lit streets. But just before he disappeared into the fog, she spoke, “Be careful, Felix.”
Something in her voice made him pause. Not a warning. Not a threat.
A plea.
But he kept walking.
Felix’s throat burned, but he held his ground.
A decision had been made.
There was no turning back.
He was going to break the system.
Even if it destroyed him.
* * *
The next crossing point wasn’t a train station. Or a classroom.
It was a hospital.
Felix hesitated, every instinct screaming at him to turn back. But he forced his feet to move, one step at a time, toward the door. The number on the plaque was faded, the edges worn smooth.
Inside, the air was heavier. Stale.
A single hospital bed sat in the center of the room, sheets crisp and untouched. Machines lined the walls, their screens blank, their wires snaking across the floor like veins.
And then he saw him.
A man—frail, unmoving, eyes closed as if merely asleep. But the longer Felix stared, the more wrong it felt. His skin was paper-thin, stretched too tight over bones that looked barely strong enough to hold him together. A faint, silvery strand trailed from his chest, pulsing weakly, stretching into nothingness.
Felix’s throat tightened. “Who is he?”
Eris didn’t respond right away. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. “You don’t recognize him?”
Felix’s stomach twisted.
Because now that she said it, he did.
Felix stepped forward.
The door creaked open.
And inside…
A man lay in a hospital bed.
Thin. Pale. His eyes open, staring at the ceiling.
Felix’s breath caught.
The monitors beside the bed flickered.
But they weren’t tracking anything. No heart rate. No vitals.
The man wasn’t alive.
But he wasn’t dead either.
Felix turned to Eris. “Who is he?”
Eris hesitated. Then… softly, “He’s the one who built the lottery.”
Felix’s blood ran cold.
He turned back to the man, his mind racing.
“This… this is the guy who started it all?”
Eris nodded.
Felix swallowed hard. “Then he can stop it.”
Eris exhaled. “No. He’s been like this for a long time.”
Felix frowned. “What do you mean?”
Eris hesitated. Then, almost reluctantly, “He never passed on.”
Felix’s chest tightened. “What?”
Eris looked at the unmoving man. “He created the system, Felix. But he never gave himself a number.”
Felix stared at her.
“He was the first,” she whispered. “The first to pull. The first to decide. And in the end… he never left.”
Felix turned back to the bed, his breath unsteady.
The man’s empty eyes stared at the ceiling.
Waiting.
Felix’s fingers curled into fists. “Then let’s end it.”
Eris inhaled sharply. “Felix—”
But Felix was already moving.
He reached for the lottery machine beside the bed.
His hands shook as he gripped the lever.
Then… he pulled.
The machine whirred.
Numbers rattled.
Felix’s pulse pounded.
Then… click.
A single ball rolled forward.
Felix grabbed it.
The number burned into his mind.
001.
Felix turned to the man in the bed.
And… for the first time…
His eyes moved.
Felix’s breath hitched.
The man turned his head, his expression unreadable.
Felix froze.
The monitors flickered.
Then… without a sound…
The man smiled.
And just like that…
The lottery machine shattered.
Felix’s vision exploded.
The walls cracked. The floor gave way.
And then…
Everything went dark.
* * *
Felix gasped awake.
He was somewhere else.
The city was gone.
The hospital, the stations, the numbers—all of it had vanished.
Felix’s heart pounded. “Eris?”
Silence.
Felix’s breath came fast and ragged.
Then… a voice.
Not Eris.
Not the man.
Something else.
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
Felix turned.
And his blood ran cold.
There—standing just beyond the edge of the dark…
Was something watching him.
Not human.
Not anything.
Felix’s pulse screamed.
Then—
The voice spoke again, “Your turn.”
Felix’s world collapsed.
The final number had been pulled.
And this time…
It was his.
Final Part—The Unseen Number
Felix’s breath came in short, ragged gasps.
The darkness around him wasn’t empty.
Shapes moved within it—shifting, twisting. He couldn’t tell if they had faces. Or if they were just… watching.
His heartbeat was a frantic drum.
The voice—the thing—spoke again, “Your turn.”
Felix’s stomach lurched. His fingers curled into fists.
“No,” he whispered. “I didn’t agree to this.”
A low chuckle slithered through the air.
“You pulled the final number. The game is over. Now, you take his place.”
Felix’s mind reeled. His pulse screamed. “No. No, that’s not how this works.”
The thing moved closer.
Felix still couldn’t see its face.
“You still don’t understand,” it whispered. “You never did.”
Felix’s hands shook. “I broke the system.”
The darkness laughed. “You did.”
Felix’s stomach twisted. “So why am I still here?”
Silence.
Then… “Because the system was never about the numbers.”
Felix’s breath caught. “What?”
A ripple ran through the dark.
“The numbers were an illusion. A game played to make people feel like their fate wasn’t already decided.”
Felix’s mind screamed. “Then what was it about?”
Another whisper. “Choice.”
Felix’s chest ached. He had been so focused on breaking the machine, pulling the number, undoing the system…
He never stopped to think about what came next.
The game wasn’t about who was chosen.
It was about who decided.
And now…
Felix had decided.
He had chosen.
And in doing so…
He had taken the Creator’s place.
Felix’s stomach dropped. “No,” he whispered. “No, I won’t do it.”
The darkness shuddered. “You already did.”
Felix turned. He wanted to run.
But the moment his foot moved…
The shadows closed in.
And then…
Felix was somewhere else.
* * *
The city looked the same.
Neon lights. Fog-covered streets. People moving, unaware.
But something was… wrong.
Felix stood in the center of the street.
People walked past him as if he wasn’t there.
He turned.
And froze.
There—standing at the edge of the sidewalk—
Was Eris.
She wasn’t looking at him.
She was looking through him.
Felix’s breath hitched. “Eris?”
She didn’t react.
Felix’s pulse thundered.
He took a step forward…
And his reflection appeared in the glass window beside him.
Felix’s breath stopped.
The face staring back at him…
Wasn’t his.
It was the Creator’s.
The man from the hospital. The one who had been trapped in the system. The one Felix had tried to erase.
The one who had never passed on.
Felix’s hands shook.
His skin was no longer his own. His face, his body…
They weren’t real.
Felix gasped.
He hadn’t broken the system.
He had become it.
Eris finally turned.
Her eyes locked onto his.
And, in a whisper…
She pulled a number.
Felix opened his mouth to scream.
But the machine had already started.
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AUTHOR BIO:
Fendy is a writer and music producer based in Malang, Indonesia. His fiction and creative writing delve into the intersections of culture and imagination, while his music—released as Nep Kid—weaves ambient storytelling through sound. Find his work on all major platforms.
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WHY WE CHOSE TO PUBLISH “Lottery of the Departed”:
We’ve published a number of heaven, hell, and after-life stories in past issues of the magazine. Just when we thought we’d seen all the possible story variants, author Fendy Tulodo proved us wrong. There’s not much else to say about this one other than it hit all the right notes for us: different, unexpected, a well-done character-based story. And despite it being a rather somber piece, he managed to sprinkle in some bits of humor. Perfect.