The Afterlife?

I did die, I was happy to discover. It was rather uneventful, not much to report.

What I was very unhappy to find, however, was that I still had emotions. Or feelings. Any kind of senses. Dead people do not have those, I had always believed.

"Welcome!"

…

Nope. I'm still happy to lie in bed staring out the window at the sky. I don't need anything that requires work. I had a good life, now I want a peaceful death. I'm an atheist. I firmly believe in nothing. When humans die, the neurons stop firing and that's it. Cremate my body and let the earth take it for a good ole recycling.

"Oooooh, don't ignore me!" I realized that I had eyes and that I had been tightly closing them when four cold fingers pried open my eyelids. Very cold and very green fingers that were attached to an equally green face sporting a disgustingly cheerful grin.

"All right," I said. "I won't ignore you. Can you let go of my eyes, now?"

"Yes, yes! Oh, this is good." He…she…it…rubbed their hands together. Their gaze swept from my head to my feet with increasing satisfaction. "I don't usually get the chance to mess around with death. We're going to have fun together!"

"Hold on." I rubbed at my eyes, trying to remove the lingering coldness. "Who are you?"

"Farrelly!"

Well, that was surprisingly Irish. Green = Irish?

"No, no. I can be scarlet or black or orchre or peach or ruby or olive or violet or fawn or lilac or gold or chocolate or mauve—"

"I got it. You can be a whole ton of colors." I hesitated for a moment, and they seemed to allow me it, even spreading their arms in an obvious gesture of 'Here, look at me!' I looked, and the more confused I became.

They were a head shorter than me, with leaf green skin and completely hairless. Darker green veins ran along the exposed surfaces, and continued under a gray robe, which fastened around their neck and dropped loosely to the ground. The robe was sleeveless and cinched at the shoulders. Though they were standing still, the robe seemed to be in constant motion even as it wasn't actually moving. It was almost taunting, as if no matter how much I studied it, I would never understand it. Worse, the ground was the same color. If I stared too long, I was sure I would start to believe that clothes are only an extension of one's environment, and that it begged the question of their existence, and thus my existence, and the existence of life and death and…

"Are you God?" I blurted.

They hummed lightly, their eyes flickering a bright yellow. "Not sure," they said.

I frowned. "Isn't God all-knowing?"

They clapped happily. "Then I guess I'm not God!" They chuckled at my deepening confusion. "Not important, not important. It's a cycle! Chicken and eggs, me and humans. Maybe a god created humans, maybe humans created gods, or maybe God came and created us all. Or maybe we created each other simultaneously! Or, even better, we were all born from chickens!" They stepped forward and poked a long finger into my shoulder. "Do you like chickens?"

This was so nonsensical. This must be Little Genie's fault. Could this be considered worse than turning into a zombie? I hated the Alice in Wonderland rambling. I was the type that when it came to the caterpillar, I would rather be lost forever than ask for his help. Or maybe I had asked the wrong question. That must be it.

"So is this—"

"Eh-HEM." The disapproving tone sent shivers down my spine. I quickly changed my initial evaluation of them. Not nonsensical. Very serious. Very important.

"Eh-HEM." The yellow in their eyes darkened into a molten gold.

How had I upset them? I quickly thought back to the nonsense.

"I…yes, I like chickens."

"Eeeeexcellent!" They clapped their hands again, curled their lips into a smirk and stepped back. With a wave of their hand, two chairs appeared. "Sit, sit. We have much to discuss before we fiddle."

I sat gingerly. The chair was solid. "Can I ask a question?"

"YES! I never get to answer questions. Ask!" Their chair was splayed in all directions, like an egg smashed on the floor and then supported on stilts. The longer than possible with too many joints fingers kneaded the armrests. "You must ask interesting questions."

"I don't know if I can do that… first, am I dead?"

"NO! But not alive either. In transition!"

"Is this because of my grand-niece's wish?"

"Hoooooh, yes! She always makes good wishes. It's always a fun challenge to solve them."

That sounded important. "You're the one granting her wishes? Wait… are you the one behind all of the powers?!"

They pounded their hands against the chair. "Yes, yes, yes! You got it! BING, BING! Remember me??" Their gaze was expectant.

"Remember… who are you?!" I stood up and stomped over to stand over them. Placing my hands on my hips, I did my best impression of an angry mom. "What exactly is your deal?"

They leaned back and shook a finger at me. "Oh, no, no, oh. We met when you were just a little tiny little child. Remember?" Those yellow irises seemed even brighter, circling mesmerizingly. "Just a tiny little tiny child. With tiny brother and little brother. Couldn't catch them before they left, no, but caught you, right, Gr'aunty?"

"I'm not your Gr'aunty," I muttered as I stared into the circles. "So, you met the three of us, and then our children had powers?"

"And your grandchildren, and their children, and their children, and their children, and, well, too many, right? Then someday the earth is over and no more powers. But until then, we'll all have fun, right?"

"But why did you give them powers? How did we meet?" I pressed them.

They opened one palm. "You helped me." They opened the other palm. "I help you!"

"But it wasn't us that you "helped". It was our children."

"Can't do anything to humans already made." They shrugged. "Need to weave it in the making. So, help to children."

"It's like a folktale." Their face was feeling more familiar, but perhaps I had been staring so long that I was starting to imagine it. "You couldn't have just given us a bag of gold?"

They scoffed. "What's the point of that? So boring, so. Weave the powers in, humans make a mess. Much more interesting, right?"

"That's one way to think about it." I paced back to my chair. "If each generation really does get powers, it's going to be more than a mess. It's going to be a catastrophe." I ran my fingers through my hair, a habit that had followed me through life. We had managed to stay on top of the first generation, but the second generation was already getting out of control. What was the third generation going to be like? The fourth?

"Oh, it's going to be even more fun! A villain will be born!"

I froze and turned. "A villain?" They were smirking again. "You can see the future?"

"Oh no, oh, that would be boring. Unfortunately, I can predict the future. Also, boring. Unavoidable. Lived too long, seen too much, remember everything. Villains arise from interesting chaos, so, villain born." They rubbed their hands again.

"Can you stop it? Would you stop giving them powers?" If I had to go on my hands and knees to beg for my family's peace of mind, I would. Maybe they had nothing else to keep them entertained, but life was entertaining enough without abilities.

"Can't."

"What? Why not?"

"Can't. Already promised. Powers for aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaall generations! Little tiny little you agreed. Tiny brother agreed. Little brother agreed. Set. Done. Can't."

"I'm okay with you breaking your promise. I'm sure my brothers would agree also."

"Oh no, no oh." They scratched at a rather pointy chin. "Brothers not here, can't agree. No proxy without consent, right? No consent without knowledge. No knowledge if not present. Not present since dead."

"Then just break it without their consent!"

"You want Earth to end sooner? Topsy turvy cycle of chicken, egg, and connections. Like the mutation in the germline, take it away and you get cancer."

"Is there any way to stop it?"

Their ear touched their shoulder as they tilted their head far to the right. "Why do you care? You're gone."

They had a point. If not for Little Genie, I wouldn't even know about it. Thanks, Little Genie, great parting gift you gave me there. Maybe I'll bite your parents after all.

I sighed. "It's the rational thing to do. Yeah, the powers are fun, but it's not quite the right place for them."

"Oooh?" I was starting to resent that grin. "Then I can bring them to another, better place? Not as interesting as on Earth, but still interesting."

"No!" I flapped my hands frantically. "They're fine on Earth. Leave them there!" I didn't want to play around with the randomness of where they would end up if I entered into that agreement.

"Good, good. Can't do it anyway. Well," they murmured slyly, "there is one way you can change things."

"How?"

"Return. That grand niece of yours… Little Genie? She can make the wish. Boring, but she can."

That made a strange sort of sense. "Then, I can return as a ghost and tell her what to say?"

"Ho, no! It's not THAT easy. I can't put you there, and you can't go there from here. But you can go there from your new life."

"My new life?"

"She doesn't want you to die, right? Sorry, no zombies on Earth. You may find some in your new world, though." Again, that grin. It was a little creepier this time. "Maybe you can bite them then."

"Wait, where am I going to live? How do I get to Earth from there? What—"

"Nope. All questions from here on out are going to be boring. I don't feel like answering anymore. Too bad, I'm disappointed." They closed their eyes, and all the light disappeared. "If you don't want a villain, though, better hurry. Time keeps on going and soon one will die and the other will be born. Hurry, hurry. But be fun about it. Go."

I went.