Alana still remembered trick-or-treating on Halloween night, but that had been a long time ago. She hadn’t even put on a costume to pass out candy in the last few years. She was told that time heals all wounds, that she’d one day get over Mia’s death and move on with her life. She didn’t, of course. It was hard to forget someone when they meant everything to you.
Mia’s death occurred on Halloween night. It had been her favorite holiday, and she celebrated every year like she was a grown woman with a pagan’s soul and a child’s heart. She was only twenty-eight on the night her life ended.
“Five years,” Alana sighed. “You’ve been gone five years, Mia.” She placed her hand on the cold tombstone. The heat left her body, rushing into the cold granite slab. “I miss you so much. Please, if you’re still here, speak to me.”
Alana moved her hand from the tombstone and reached into her backpack. She took out the candles and placed them on the ground around Mia’s grave. She sat cross-legged. She had been practicing meditation techniques, all to call to Mia’s spirit on the night she had died. Mia had believed and practiced stuff like this. Alana had watched, but she read more about it after Mia’s passing, trying to learn all she could for a single purpose.
“Please, Mia. Come back to me.”
Halloween night was the best time to commune with those who’d passed onto the next world. Mia had believed this, so Alana felt this was the best night to find her. She thought about getting a Ouija board, but she’d heard too many myths about people summoning spirits or demons they hadn’t meant to summon. Besides, Mia’d likely be more than happy to respond without one.
“What’cha doin’?” a voice asked from the branches above Alana’s head.
Alana made a startled jump and looked upward. There was figure there. It was wearing a black hoodie and old jeans. It was a boy, sitting on the tree branch. His face was a mask of white, seen in the glow of the candles. It was a skull with two bright blue eyes in its sockets. That wasn’t the oddest thing about the boy either. He was a cartoon, and Alana already knew his name.
“Hel?”
The boy swung and jumped from the branch, landing behind Alana. “Mia Amelia?” he asked, reading from the tombstone. “That’s a funny name. Mia Amelia. Mia Amelia!”
“Stop saying her name!” Alana snapped. She stood and turned toward Hel, who was only three feet tall. “What the hell is going on here? Cartoons don’t exist.”
“I don’t?” Hel asked. “That sucks.” He poked at his chest with his pointer finger. “It really feels like I exist, though. But that’s just my perception.”
Alana closed her eyes and took a breath. Hel Psychopomp wasn’t real. Cartoons weren’t real. They didn’t come jumping behind you in the middle of cemeteries at eleven o’clock at night. So when Alana opened her eyes, she didn’t expect Hel to still be standing there.
“I was dreaming.” She was so sure she had fallen asleep for a minute, and her mind had conjured the image of a cartoon she knew from her childhood. When she opened her eyes, she was shocked to see Hel was still there. She shook her head and sighed.
“What?” Hel asked.
“You’re not supposed to be real!” Alana snapped.
“You said that already,” Hel said. “Remember? I poked myself and everything. Maybe you’re not real.”
“I’m not a cartoon!”
“Touché.”
Alana didn’t know what to make of Hel Psychopomp standing in the middle of a cemetery and having a conversation like it was nothing out of the ordinary. She wondered if her mind had finally snapped from the years of mourning Mia and living in her lonely world.
Hel was staring at her, waiting for her to say something. “What do you want?” she asked.
“I’m just so bored!” Hel replied. “I’m looking for something to do, and you looked like fun.”
Hel Psychopomp hadn’t been a normal cartoon show. It was dark, especially for something that came on right when Alana was getting out of school. Hel was the Grim Reaper’s son, and most of his adventures tended to revolve around death, the occult, ghosts, and a whole slew of things a group of catholic parents had protested in a vain attempt to get Hel Psychopomp taking off the air, especially after the episode titled “Dirt Nap” ruffled more than its share of feathers.
“Hello?” Hel asked. “You there?”
“I’m here,” Alana replied. “What did you say you wanted?”
“I don’t know. What do you want?”
Alana knew what she was supposed to ask. Tears swam in her eyes. She knew from watching countless hours of Hel Psychopomp that he had the ability to traverse the world of the living and the dead. His father was Death himself, and his mother was a human schoolteacher. He was always discovering new powers about himself like any pubescent teenager with supernatural parentage would.
“Can you take me to see Mia?” Alana asked.
“Mia Amelia?” Hel asked in return.
“Yeah. Mia Amelia. Can you take me to the world of the dead so I can find her?”
Hel smiled, which shouldn’t have been possible seeing his face was a skull. But cartoon logic isn’t something that can’t be described as “logical.”
“Sure,” Hel said. “I know just where to start.”
* * *
“Hel Psychopomp”
Season 3, Episode 11: Dirt Nap
Act I
The sun rose, a yellow circle against a blue backdrop. Below the blue sky was a small home at the end of a dead-end street surrounded by bright green grass. It wasn’t the type of house where you’d expect the son of the Grim Reaper to live, but looks, as always, can be deceiving.
“Good morning!” young Hel exclaimed, running down the stairs and jumping to the kitchen table. He was dressed in his best black hoodie and jeans as always. His bottom jaw was all that moved when he spoke. “What’s for breakfast?”
Hel’s mother was cooking on the stove. Whatever was in the pan was smoking, but she ignored it. Smoke billowed above her head.
“I think it’s done,” Hel said
His mother didn’t acknowledge him. Her focus was on the stove and the burning breakfast.
“Mom?” Hel asked. He was worried, so he jumped off his chair and walked to her. He pulled on her apron. “Mom? Are you okay?”
Hel’s mother turned toward him. Her face was slack, her eyes were sunken, and her mouth was open. A line of drool dripped from the corner. There was an unmistakable zombie bite on her neck. She let out a loud groan.
“You burnt the eggs!” Hel exclaimed.
A ghost materialized in the kitchen with a puff of white smoke. He was the same size and age as Hel. Instead of legs, a trail of white floated just above the ground. “Good morning, Hel.”
“Mornin’ Orlando.”
The ghost looked toward Hel’s slack-jawed mother. “Hel… You mother… She’s…”
“Yeah,” Hel said, rolling his eyes. “She burnt breakfast again. Why aren’t you haunting the school?”
“It’s Saturday,” Orlando replied. “Even ghosts get the weekend off. Chelsea told me to come get you. She found something you gotta see.”
“Okay. It’s not as if these eggs are getting any more edible.”
Hel’s mother moaned, a bubble of spittle popping from her mouth. “BRAINS!”
“Mom, you’re embarrassing me in front of my friend!” Hel groaned.
Orlando looked at her again. “Are you sure you don’t want to -”
“Let’s go see Chelsea!” Hel exclaimed, pointing a finger in the air. Orlando nodded, and they both teleported out of the kitchen just before the smoking breakfast burst into flames behind Hel’s mother.
A moment later, Hel and Orlando both materialized in a forest. Hel looked around himself, spinning in a circle. “What’s Chelsea doing way out here?”
“She was doing some divining, and she wound up here in the forest. She’s right over by that mound of dirt!”
Hel turned to see his human friend Chelsea Grinn. She was a ginger girl from his class. She was the only one not perpetually frightened of him because of his appearance. She was poking the mound of dirt with a stick when Hel and Orlando made their way toward her.
“What are you doing?” Hel asked.
“Poking this man-shaped mound of dirt I found,” Chelsea answered. “What do you suppose he’s doing?”
“He’s napping,” Orlando replied.
“But who naps underground?” Chelsea asked.
“What?” Hel asked in return. “Haven’t you ever heard of taking a dirt nap?” He looked around the mound. “Now that’s odd…”
“What?” Orlando and Chelsea asked in unison.
“This guy’s soul wasn’t brought to the Underworld yet. He’s still wandering around somewhere. My father must not have come to collect him.”
“What should we do?” Chelsea asked.
“We shouldn’t do anything,” Orlando said, answering instead of Hel. “I never made my way to the Underworld, and I’m perfectly fine.”
Chelsea sighed. “You haunt a school, and Hel and I are the only two who even know you’re there. Why would you think that’s ‘perfectly fine?’”
Orlando shrugged.
“Let’s find get this guy’s soul and get him to the Underworld!” Hel proclaimed. “If my dad can do it, so can I!”
“Um…” Chelsea said.
“What?” Hel asked. “Don’t tell me I shouldn’t be doing it!”
“It’s just that your dad has been ushering souls to the Underworld for thousands of years, and you’re twelve.”
“Twelve and a half!” Hel snapped. “I’ve been to the Underworld plenty of times. If we find this guy, I’ll bring him to the other side and show you both.”
“Fine,” Chelsea sighed. “If it’ll shut you up.”
Hel nodded. “Okay then. Where did the dead guy go?”
Chelsea and Orlando looked at each other and shrugged.
* * *
The softball field was empty. Alana felt weird being there. She remembered it full of her friends and their parents, all there to watch their kids to play. That’s where she had first met Mia when they were both only twelve years old.
Alana jogged away from her team’s dugout after the game, her backpack of softball gear strapped to her back. She thought she heard someone calling for her, so she turned. She never found out if anyone was or if it was just her imagination. She ran right into another girl, who was also not looking straight ahead.
“Oh my God,” Alana said, getting off her butt and standing. “I’m so sorry.” She reached down, grabbed the hand of the other girl, and pulled her up.
The other girl stood, rubbing her forehead. “Am I bleeding?”
Alana looked at her. “I don’t see any blood. Do you still have to play today, or did you play in the morning?”
“I still have to play.”
“I just finished. I’ll walk with you to your field.”
The girl nodded and walked toward the same field Alana had just left. “I’m Alanna, by the way. Not sure if I said that.”
“I didn’t catch it while you were ramming me over. I’m Mia. You play for Paulie’s Pizza?”
“Yeah.”
“Is it true you get free pizza?”
Alana laughed. “Only one slice if I go there in my uniform.”
“Still,” Mia said. “I’m on Crown Ford, and we don’t get free cars. Pizza is still something.”
“You can come with me. We’re going for lunch, and I’ll share my pizza.”
“One slice for the two of us?” Mia asked with a laugh. “Besides, I have my game.”
“Oh yeah. I think we’re playing you next week.”
“Yeah. I think so too.”
There was silence between the two. Alana didn’t like it. She felt guilty for slamming into Mia and hoped it didn’t affect her playing. She wanted to say something else, but she was nervous. The worst part about it all was that she didn’t know why.
“That’s a cool tattoo,” Mia said. “Where’d you get it?”
“It was in a box of cereal,” Alana replied. She looked at the temporary tattoo on her forearm of her favorite cartoon character. He was sitting right on her arm in his signature black hoodie. “Do you watch Hel Psychopomp?”
“Only every day!” Mia exclaimed. “My mom hates it!”
“So does mine! You should come over and watch it sometime. I’ve taped a bunch of episodes.”
“Cool. I will.”
“MIA!” the coach of the Crown Ford team shouted. “Get your glove and get on the field!”
“I gotta run,” Mia said. “I’ll see you next week. We’ll set it up and exchange numbers.”
“Yeah,” Alana said. “See you.”
“You there?” Hel asked. “Earth to Alana!”
Alana shook her head. It wasn’t a bright spring Saturday morning. It was a foggy, dreary Halloween night. It was silent; too late for trick-or-treaters, and there wasn’t even any traffic on the roads. “Sorry, Hel. I got lost in my own head I guess.”
“Well you better find your way out. We’re not going to find your friend if you’re not even on the right plane of existence.”
“I’m fine,” Alana said. “Why’d you bring me here anyway? Is Mia here?”
Hel shook his head. “We still have a ways to go. We need to take the river.”
“What river?”
“The River of the Dead.”
Alana sighed. “I hate to break it to you, but the River of the Dead doesn’t pass through the softball field.”
“How could it?” Hel asked. “All the girls would drown trying to round second base if it did. That wouldn’t be good at all.”
“So where is it?”
“Back there.” Hel pointed toward field five. It was the worst field, and Alana remembered it, even now. They had all hated when they had to play there, especially when they had to use the dugout closest to the line of trees. There were wetlands a dozen feet or so behind the field, and the stink of swamp would assault them on hot days. The mosquitoes would attack in great clouds.
“That’s the River of the Dead?” Alana asked. “In the swamp behind field five?”
“Yup,” Hel replied. “Well, not exactly. It’s an inlet that leads to the River of the Dead. But same difference, really. Ready to go?”
“I came this far,” Alana sighed. She walked toward field five. Hel ran to catch up.
“That’s the spirit! You’ll be reunited in no time!”
A silence passed between Alana and her cartoon companion. She knew it would look ridiculous to anyone who may come by and see, and she wondered if it was all in her head. Mia had often said that Halloween is the night where the veil between the living and dead was its thinnest. But did that include cartoon characters?
“She must have been important to you,” Hel said as they walked down a path between the trees. “Mia Amelia, I mean.”
“I loved her more than anyone or anything. So, yes. She was important to me.”
Hel nodded. “That’s good. I just want to make sure because the next leg of our journey is going to be scary. The River of the Dead isn’t an easy path to take. You need to be really sure you want to take it.”
The thoughts of Mia sprang in Alana’s head again. There was no doubt she’d follow Hel to the end of the Underworld if it meant seeing her long, lost lover one last time. “I want to go.”
“Okay.”
Alana had spent years playing softball at these fields, but she’d never once dared to venture into the woods behind field five. It led nowhere, not that she had ever wanted to find out. Even if a foul ball got lobbed far enough, no one ever wanted to go in and get it. If the entrance to the River of the Dead had to be anywhere, the woods behind field five seemed like the perfect spot for it.
“Here we are,” Hel said. He stood next to an old, wooden boat next to a river Alana never knew existed. It was half in the water and half stuck in the mud. “Your majestic ferry awaits, m’lady Alana.”
“And this won’t sink?”
“I didn’t say that.”
Alana rolled her eyes. “Okay. Fine. Ferry me to the River of the Dead.”
“As you wish.” Hel climbed into the boat and stood near the front, watching the foggy water. After a couple of moments, he turned back toward Alana. “You going to push this thing into the water or stand there all night?”
“Right,” Alana sighed as she pushed the boat into the water with a heave. She jogged through the knee-deep water and jumped into it behind Hel. It rocked as it floated away from the muddy shore, heading into the fog with nothing propelling it.
“Keep your hands and legs in the boat at all times,” Hel said. “Secure all loose items, backpacks, and cellphones. Anything lost on the River of the Dead will not be retrieved, and that includes souls and wills to live. Enjoy your ride.”
“Thanks,” Alana muttered. She rubbed her arms to get the chill out of her skin. She knew she was crazy for what she was doing, but it would be worth it once she saw Mia.
* * *
“Hel Psychopomp”
Season 3, Episode 11: Dirt Nap
Act II
“Where is that guy?!” Hel exclaimed. “He couldn’t have gotten far with his body under the dirt like that.”
“I find that offensive,” Orlando said. “I’ve been dead for God knows how long, and I get around just fine.”
“No you don’t,” Chelsea retorted. “You’re always haunting the school and knocking kids’ pencils off their desks. If it wasn’t for Hel and I being able to see you, you would have never left.”
“I get lost easily,” Orlando muttered. “It helps to have someone to follow.”
The trio was walking through the woods. Hel was looking with a frantic air around him, his head whipping back and forth every time he passed a tree. “Here, dead guy! Where are you, dead guy?”
“Really.” Orlando rolled his eyes. “Do you even hear how offensive you’re being to ghosts? We’re not puppies.”
“How do you think he died?” Chelsea asked.
“Who?” Hel asked in return. “Orlando?
“No,” Chelsea sighed. “The dead guy. Something had to have killed him, right?”
“Well, he is dead,” Hel said. “Makes sense. I’ll ask him if we ever find him.”
It was then that they finally found the ghost that used to belong to the corpse that had been buried in a shallow grave. He stood near a cliff, staring off into a wooded valley. “Death is fleeting,” he said, “or so they say.”
“Who says that?” Hel asked.
“They,” the ghost said, he turned around. “Are you Death? Are you here for me?”
Hel shrugged. “Sort of.”
“He’s Death’s son,” Chelsea said.
“But I’m still here for you. Are you ready to go to the Underworld?”
“Underworld?” the ghost asked. “What about Heaven?”
“What about it?”
“Can you take me to Heaven?”
“No.”
The ghost-man blinked a few times. “Why not? I was a devout Catholic my whole life.”
“Here we go,” Chelsea said with a sigh. She strode away.
“Heaven is just a construct invented by Hallmark corporations,” Hel explained. “It’s as American as apple pie, meaning it was first cooked up by some unknown chef thousands of years ago.”
“That is not how apple pie was invented,” Orlando added.
“What about Heaven?” the ghost-man asked.
“I wouldn’t know,” Orlando replied. “I’ve never been.”
“It’s all just a conspiracy theory,” Chelsea added, making herself heard from the edge of the tree line. “Hel’s only repeating what he heard from his uncle, and half of what he’s heard is questionable.”
“What’s the other half?” the ghost-man asked.
“Nonsense.”
“Look,” Hel said, “you’re going to the other side whether you like it or not. There’s really only two other choices, and they’re both a pain in the -”
“What are my other choices?” the ghost-man asked.
“Well,” Hel replied with a sigh, “you can stay a ghost and haunt this forest forever, or I can put you back into your body?”
“You can do that?” Orlando asked.
Hel turned toward Orlando. “Yes, but your body is long gone, buried somewhere under the foundation of our school.”
Orlando hung his head low. “That crazy janitor never gave me a chance.”
“What about me?” the ghost man asked.
“His plot looked fresh,” Chelsea added. “You said yourself that he was just taking a dirt nap, remember?”
Hel sighed. “I know the theory of reanimation, but I’ve never actually done it before. What if something goes wrong? What if I accidentally open a portal to the Underworld and let a demon or two into your reality?”
“I’ll take full responsibility,” the ghost-man replied. “I’m an adult after all. That means you won’t get in trouble if something goes wrong.”
“I’m sold,” Hel said, smiling. “Let’s get back to your body and bring you back from the dead!”
“That was much too easy,” Orlando said.
Chelsea sighed. “You know Hel. He’s ever the opportunist.”
The trio stood around the ghost-man’s bod a few minutes later. “Ready?” Hel asked.
“Yes,” the ghost-man replied. “It’s going to be great to be back in my body. When those teens killed me, I thought I’d never get another chance to make amends with my estranged family.”
“Why did those teens kill you?” Orlando asked.
“That’s not important.” The ghost-man turned toward Hel. “Get me back in my body!”
“Give me a minute to set up,” Hel said. He gave a small fist pump, and kid-sized scythe appeared in his hand in a puff of gray smoke. He used the end of the handle to draw on the ground around the buried body, making a many-pointed star surrounded by ruins. When he was done with the diagram, he turned his attention to the tree near the head of the grave. He used the scythe to carve it into the form of a demon with a goat’s head.
“I don’t think you should be doing this, Hel,” Orlando said.
“I’m going to agree with Orlando on this one,” Chelsea added. “I’m getting a lot of bad vibes from this whole thing.”
“There,” Hel panted, ignoring his friends’ concerns. “The hard part is done.”
The ghost-man floated over his body. “What do I do now?”
“Wait.” Hel raised his arms, his scythe over his head. He started chanting in the Language of the Damned. The sky turned black, and the shadows stretched around Hel. His friends all backed away. Orlando made the sign of the cross as a funnel of black clouds came from the sky.
The spectral form of the ghost-man laughed with a maniacal rage as it turned into its own funnel formation, being sucked into his shallow dirt mound by an invisible force.
“I still have a very bad feeling about this,” Orlando said.
The dirt mound exploded, and the reanimated corpse of the ghost-man emerged like a decomposed jack in the box.
* * *
The small boat floated atop the water, making its way where Hel was guiding it. There were oars, but he wasn’t steering. It just obeyed whatever silent order the Son of Death was telling it. There were no stars in the sky, only the dank gray of low clouds.
“Are we there?” Alana asked.
“Where?” Hel asked in return. “I mean, we’re here, if you’re referring to ‘here’ as a relative term. If not, I don’t know what you mean.”
“The Underworld,” Alana said. “Is this it, or are we still on Earth?”
“Who said the Underworld isn’t part of Earth?”
Alana sighed and looked ahead. All she could see was water and more fog. All she could hear was the water moving around the boat. Either the autumn night had become way drearier, or Hel had brought her into the Underworld. Hel said it would be dangerous, but it was almost like a slow boat ride at Disney World so far, except there were no singing puppets. Without wanting to think about much of anything, Alana sat back and closed her eyes, allowing Hel to steer the boat with whatever otherworldly power he was using to do it.
“Would you ever want to get married?”
“What?” Alana opened her eyes. She had drifted to sleep on her couch while staying up late to watch anime. Mia had woken her with the most random and provocative question. “Did you just propose to me?”
Mia laughed. “Oh shit. Were you asleep?”
“Kind of.” Alana checked her mouth for drool and sat up. The episode of Naruto they had been watching was paused. Mia must had done it before she popped the question.
“Sorry,” Mia said.
“Don’t be sorry. Just tell me if you were proposing or not.”
“I was just wondering is all. Would you, if someone were to ask, get married?”
Alana sighed. “I don’t know. I’ve never been asked. Would you?”
“I’ve never been asked either.”
The two sat in silence, watching the unmoving scene on the TV. They had been together since they were young, but the subject of marriage had never come up before.
“Why are you asking?” Alana asked. “Do you want to get married?”
“I don’t know. It’s just…” Mia sighed. “My mom was telling me I need to date a man and have a marriage and all that garbage. I figured marrying you would really show her.”
“You’re proposing a spite-marriage?”
“Why not? What would your parents think?”
“My parents love you, Mia. They’d be thrilled if we actually got married.”
Mia laughed and moved a couple of feet down the couch, putting her arm around Alana. She leaned closer, and the two shared a tender kiss. “Should we table this discussion?” she asked once their lips were apart.
“For now,” Alana agreed. She smiled, put her arms around Mia’s neck, and kissed her again. They never got married. The words weren’t important. They had each other, and they both knew what they had was a “forever” kind of love. They didn’t need any minister or justice of the peace to pronounce them anything. Everything was perfect the way was.
The sound of windchimes brought Alana back to reality, or whatever the inlet that led to the River of the Dead was considered. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, rocking the boat a little. She looked over the edge. The water wasn’t water anymore.
“Is that… Is that blood?”
“It’s the River of the Dead,” Hel replied. “What did you expect?”
“So this is the Underworld.” Alana looked around. The fog was gone now that they had crossed over, and the clouds were darker. Shivers of dim light peeked through from the Underworld’s moon. “How much longer until I can see Mia?”
“Not long now.” Hel’s demeanor had changed. There was no long that joking smirk in his voice. He stood, observing the waterway ahead of the boat. He started to hum a tune. It took Alana a moment to grasp what it was.
“That’s your theme song.”
Hel turned toward her. “My what?”
“Your theme song. It played at the beginning of your show. I even remember the lyrics.”
“It’s just a ditty. There are no lyrics to this song.”
“Sure there are.” Alana sat up straight and cleared her throat. “He’s the Son of Death, a suburban boy,” she sung to the tune Hel had been humming. “Hel Psychopomp! He’ll reap your soul and bring you joy. Hel Psychopomp! His friends are a ghost and a human girl. He’s not a swine, he’s not a pearl. Hel Psychopomp. You’ll laugh till you cry. You’ll laugh till you die. He’s Hel Psychopomp!”
“That can’t be my song,” Hel complained. “It’s entirely too self-serving, and I’m much too modest for a theme song like that.”
Alana was going to argue that it was the theme song to Hel Psychopomp’s self-titled cartoon show from the nineties, but the boat hit a shore. She lurched forward, grabbing the sides of the boat with both of her hands. “What’s happening?” she asked.
Hel looked at her. “We’re here.”
* * *
“Hel Psychopomp”
Season 3, Episode 11: Dirt Nap
Act III
A guttural shriek erupted in an otherwise quiet neighborhood. A monster in man-skin ran through from the woods. He was nude, and the glow of hellfire glowed through the cuts and cracks in his skin. He was followed by Hel, Chelsea, and Orlando.
“What did you do?!” Orlando said as he hovered behind Hel.
“I put him back in his body,” Hel replied. “It’s what he wanted. I don’t recall you telling me not to do it.”
“I most certainly told you not to do it!” Orlando retorted.
“In any case,” Chelsea breathed, “we need to get his ghost out of his body.”
“You mean kill him?” Hel asked.
“No,” Chelsea replied.
“I don’t know how else to make a ghost come out of a body,” Hel said. “Unless you know another option, I’m going with that plan. He’s already dead, so it’s not like it’s murder.”
“That’s…” Orlando stammered. “That actually makes sense.”
The ghost-man, who was now a reanimated man, wandered around the town. People saw him and backed away, giving him a wide berth.
“What?!” the reanimated man snapped, turning around. “You never saw a ghost possessing his own dead body before?”
“Abomination!” a priest shouted, brandishing a crucifix. “Begone!”
The reanimated man turned on the priest, a sneer on his face. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“May the light of Heaven bring you home!” the priest exclaimed.
“Heaven?” The reanimated man took slow and steady steps to the priest. “I have it on good authority that there may not even be a Heaven.”
“Blaspheme!”
The reanimated man slapped the priest, knocking him to the ground. He climbed on top of him, slapping him in the face, over and over. “I’m tired of your lies! It’s time you learned the truth.”
Hel, Chelsea, and Orlando caught up to the reanimated man as he pinned the priest to the ground. “This isn’t good,” Orlando said. “He’s not scoring many points with the man upstairs, is he?”
Hel shrugged. “Not that it matters.”
“Hel!” Chelsea shouted. “Stop him.”
“How?” Hel asked. “He seems pretty strong and mad. I say we just let him rampage for a bit. He’ll eventually tire himself out.”
“He’s not a toddler,” Chelsea scolded. “You need to take care of him before you father finds out what you’ve done.”
Hel sighed. “You’re right, I guess.”
The reanimated man realized he was being watched, and he climbed off the fallen priest. “You kids again? I thank you for giving me a second chance, but I don’t need you anymore. Run back to your mothers before you get grounded.”
“Now I can see why those teens killed you,” Orlando said, rolling his eyes.
“This town is mine!” the reanimated mine shouted. “I’ve cheated death!”
Hel’s face changed. His eyes turned red, and the scythe returned to his hands. “No one cheats death on my watch, except me.”
He made a single slice, cutting the reanimated man in half up the middle. The two pieces of the corpse fell to either side, leaving the ghost-man floating above the ground.
“Oh,” the ghost man said, looking down. “I guess I’m a ghost again.”
“And you’re going to stay that way!” Hel retorted. “I’m going to make sure you haunt a toilet!”
“Hel,” Chelsea groaned.
Hel looked at her and sighed at the concerned look on her face. His eyes turned blue once again. He raised his left hand, fingers pointed toward the sky. A portal opened under the ghost-man, and it sucked him into the ground.
“Wait!” the ghost man shouted. “What’s with all the fire and lava?! Am I in -”
The hole closed, and the ghost-man’s voice was gone. “That has to be the most successful exorcism I’ve ever seen,” Hel said. He walked to the priest and helped him to his feet. “Sorry, Father Clifford.”
“I should have known this was all your fault,” Father Clifford blustered. “This town has suffered your existence long enough, Hel Psychopomp! When I tell your mother what you’ve done…”
“Uh-oh,” Orlando said. “Here she comes!”
Hel’s mother lumbered over. “Brains!” she groaned.
“What’s happened to your mother?!” Chelsea exclaimed.
“She’s having a rough morning,” Hel replied. “She must’ve switched to decaf or something.”
Father Clifford turned toward Hel’s mother, holding out his crucifix. “May the power of -”
Hel’s mother tackled Father Clifford, and they fell to the ground together.
“He should really watch what he says,” Hel said. “He’s really going to offend someone one of these days.”
* * *
“What are you waiting for?” Hel asked. He jumped from the front of the boat, landing onto the sandy shore. “Don’t you want to see Mia Amelia?”
“Yeah,” Alana replied. “I’m ready.”
“You sure you’re ready to go home?” a younger Alana asked Mia. They were leaving their friend Dave’s house on Halloween night. They were both dressed as generic witches, wearing store-bought cloaks and pointy hats. It was their go-to ironic Halloween costume.
“It’s Samhain,” Mia replied. “You know I have rituals to do tonight. You can stay if you want.”
“I don’t want to stay if you’re not.” She smiled. “Besides, I like your rituals. Will you read my cards later?”
Mia returned the smile. “Sure. I’d love to do that.”
They got in the car and drove away.
“Why are you just standing around?” Hel asked in the present. “We’re almost there.”
“Oh,” Alana said. “Which way is it?”
“Follow me.” Hel led her toward the dingy yellow walls that rose high into the air on either side of the River of the Dead. There was an entrance cut into the rock like a doorway. Alana paused and looked inside. It was a long hall with a rusty metal ladder at the end of it.
“You can always join me for my rituals if you’d like,” Mia said, driving home. “It’s not a big deal. You know that.”
Alana shook her head. “That’s your thing. I’d only be getting in the way. I’m not as witchy as you.”
“You’re witchy enough, Al.”
Alana laughed. “I love you, Mia.”
The walls of the rock hallway were wet. Alana let her hand run against it, letting the condensation run to the ground. “Remember that ‘Dirt Nap’ episode?” she asked Hel.
“What?” Hel asked. “Episode of what?”
“There was this epi… this adventure you had. You, Orlando, and Chelsea found a mound of dirt in the woods with a body under it. Do you remember that?”
Hel turned toward her, his finger on his boney chin. “Rings a bell. We came across so many dead bodies, though.”
“You killed this guy in the end after he slapped a priest around,” Alana continued. “Do you remember that?”
“Oh yeah,” Hel replied. “You’re talking about the ghost that wanted to go back into his body. He was one messed up dude.”
“Where did he go after you chopped him in half?”
“He burned for all eternity in a pit of fire.”
“Oh.”
Hel nodded. “Yeah. He wasn’t a good dude. I won’t even get into why those teens killed him.”
“But there was no Heaven you said.”
“Right. My uncle had told me that, but mom said he’s just a crazy old demon and a racist.”
“But even if he was right… Hel, is there a Hell?”
Hel shrugged. “I guess if you want to call it that. What are you getting at?”
“I’m just trying to make heads or tails of all this. I want to know where Mia ended up.”
“It doesn’t really matter. It’s all the Underworld. There are good parts, and there are bad parts. I wouldn’t compare any of it to any religion’s version of Heaven or Hell. That would just be silly. The only way to avoid it for sure is to stick around the plane of the living as a ghost, and that’s no way to live.”
“If you’re a ghost, you’re not living at all.”
“That’s the spirit!”
Alana sighed. “So Mia is down this hall then?”
“Only one way to find out.”
Alana nodded at her cartoon companion and walked down the stony hallway. The dripping of water. She remembered the raindrops pelting the windshield of Mia’s car as they drove home on that fateful Halloween night. The storm had come in a sudden fury, the sky coming down in a torrent of water.
“Be careful,” Alana said.
“I’m good.” Mia looked at her lover and gave her a reassuring smile. She shouldn’t have taken her eyes off the road. She may have seen the drunk driver that blew the stop light.
The sound of crunching metal and shattering glass was Alana’s world. Gravity stopped working as the car bounded in the air, rolling off the road and down a steep hill. It didn’t come to a stop until it was lodged into a mud pit. When Alana opened her eyes, Mia was gone.
“Go on, then,” Hel said, nodding toward Alana. “Go see her.”
Alana looked at Hel for a moment, standing in the hallway with an innocent smile on his face. He had always been like that. It was that cartoonish optimism that made his show so much fun to watch.
“Thank you, Hel,” Alana said. “For everything.”
“Don’t mention it.” Hel stood there, maintaining his smile. “Hurry. She won’t wait forever.”
“Right.”
It was still Halloween night, but it wouldn’t be for long. It was already sometime after midnight, and morning was on its way. Once dawn arrived, the veil between Alana and Mia would be back in place, and the opportunity for them to speak would pass. Alana didn’t want to wait another year to make another attempt to see Mia and say all the things she wished she said before her death.
The ladder wobbled as Alana climbed up the cylindrical passage upward. The bricks around her were covered in moss and mold, like she was heading up a well or and old sewer system. The way got thinner now. She looked down to ask Hel if she should keep going, but he was gone. She realized she had forgotten to ask about going back after her meeting with Mia, but it was too late to worry about it. Besides, she was going to move forward despite the not knowing.
The bricks made way for moist soil. It fell as Alana’s body scraped against the dirt walls. She kept climbing the rusty ladder, ignoring the dirt and mud staining her clothes and skin. Her heart was pounding. She was only a few more rungs from Mia. She was there, just beyond the small opening at the top of the well. Alana took a deep breath and climbed through the dirt.
* * *
“Hel Psychopomp”
Season 3, Episode 11: Dirt Nap
Epilogue
Hel sat at his kitchen table with his two best friends. The wall is mostly gone, and what’s left was charred and burnt behind the stove.
“So,” Orlando said, “you’re just going to leave the two pieces of that guy’s dead body in front of the church?”
“They’re a church,” Hel replied, waving a hand at his ghost pal. “They deal with dead bodies all the time.”
“Those are funerals,” Orlando retorted. “They aren’t dead bodies strewn about the front steps.”
“I’m sure in some cultures…”
“No.”
“At least we did some good today,” Chelsea said. “We helped a lost soul find peace.”
“No we didn’t,” Orlando added.
“You’re just not happy until everyone else is unhappy,” Hel said. “I think maybe it’s time we sent you to the Underworld.”
“What?” Orlando backed away.
Hel smiled. His scythe appeared in his hand once more. “Come on, Orlando. You’ll love it there!”
“NO! I have unfinished business!” Orlando sped off, out of the door. Hel gave chase.
“You have nothing! You’re just a lost specter! You’re lucky no one has sucked you up with a vacuum cleaner.”
Chelsea, now alone, watched them run away. She shook her head, laughed, and the episode ended.
* * *
An arm protruded from the ground, followed by another. With a great heave, Alana pulled herself upward. Her body was covered in filth, but she had done it. She had made it all the way to the end of Hel Psychopomp’s quest. His promised prize was waiting for her, too. Mia sat on the ground, cross-legged. She was surrounded by candles and various stones.
“Mia!”
Mia’s eyes opened, and she looked up. “Alana? Is that you?”
“Yes!” Alana exclaimed. She dropped to her knees in front of Mia. “It’s me.”
Mia caught her breath, putting a hand over her chest. “I can feel you, in here. I know you’re with me, Alana.”
“What are you talking about? Can you not see me? I’m right in front of you.” Alana looked around and realized she was back where she started, in front of Mia’s grave. There was a difference though. “This is… This is my grave?”
“I’ve missed you,” Mia said. “I can feel your confusion and anxieties. I’m so sorry.”
Alana’s breathing quickened. She turned to look at the gravestone and saw her own name etched into the granite, not Mia’s. “What is this?”
Their car was buried in the mud after the drunk driver had struck them on the driver’s side, sending them off the road. Mia was unconscious until the red and blue lights of the police cruisers and the ambulance flashed.
Mia’s eyes open to slits, and the pain in her body hit her all at once as she awoke. “Alana?” she asked in a hoarse whisper. “What happened?”
When there was no answer, Mia turned her head. It was painful. She had no idea what was bruised or broken, but she needed to see Alana and make sure she was alright. Her eyes grew wide when she saw that Alana’s body was submerged under the muddy water.
“No!” Mia exclaimed. She struggled with her seatbelt, trying to get it off her body so she could get Alana, but her left wrist and arm were broken. The police and paramedics were at the side of the car, getting the door open to pull her free while she fought to grasp at Alana with the right side of her body.
Present Mia put her face in her hands as she knelt in front of Alana’s grave.“I’m so sorry. You didn’t know, did you?”
Alana took a step forward and sat on the ground in front of Mia. “I’ve wanted to talk to you so much,” she said. “I’ve missed you since the accident. I didn’t know… I… I didn’t know it was me.” She reached her hand out and touched Mia’s cheek. She thought she’d shy away from the touch from a ghost, but she leaned into it.
“I can feel your touch, Al,” Mia said, smiling. “I miss you so much. I think about you every day.”
“I believe you.”
“We’ll be together again someday,” Mia said. “Until then, wait for me.”
Alana nodded. Tears ran down her cheeks, leaving streaks in the dirt and grime. “Okay, Mia. I’ll be here.”
Mia’s image faded. The spiritual connection that had brought the two together had been severed. Alana cried in the dank night, leaning against her tombstone. She curled up next to it, letting her sadness envelope her body.
“What are you going to do now?”
Alana looked toward Hel, who was standing just behind where Mia was a moment before. “I promised I’d wait for her, so I’m gonna wait.”
“That’s admirable of you.” Hel walked over and sat next to Alana, leaning against the tombstone. He let out a sigh as he relaxed. “Do you want a little company while you wait?”
Alana smiled. “Sure, Hel. That would be nice.”
Hel nodded and rested his head against the tombstone. “The Underworld is different for everyone, you know. It’s all about perception.”
“Oh yeah?” Alana asked.
“Sure is. The man who took the dirt nap saw something hellish because he believed deep down he deserved it. So, when he finally entered the land of the dead, fire and brimstone was there to meet him.”
“And when I died?”
Hel shrugged. “If I had to guess, I’d say you died confused.”
“Yeah. That’s an understatement. I didn’t even know I died.”
“A lot of people don’t,” Hel said. “It’s amazing how many people like you wander around the Underworld, thinking they’re still alive. They’re my key demographic.”
“Your… What?”
“Nothing.” Hel shook his head. “Is there anything else you want to know?”
Alana thought for a moment. There were a thousand questions she could have asked while she waited for Mia, and Hel probably had a thousand stories for each one. In the end, though, she found she appreciated the quiet of her surroundings.
“No, I don’t have any questions. Not really.”
