The Dead Tenants

Ramiel heads down in fresh clothes after he’s showered and relocated them from the closet in the entrance to the one in his room. It was rather easy as there weren’t many clothes in there still, but all of them seemed fitting and like something he wound wear – mainly shirts in all variations and grandfather sweaters – and coats in different colours, all of them nearly same as the one he’s been wearing when he was killed.

He doesn’t take any of them, thought – the sky’s not blue, but it doesn’t look like it will rain, either, so he dresses lightly. The building itself is rather warm, even with his window open. He closes it before he goes out and he notices the metal plate on slides and hinges, but he’s not sure of the purpose. It might be nothing. He’ll ask Moe about it anyway.

She waits near the elevator and he follows her to a hallway he didn’t see when he was getting in – the elevator is on the right and this hallway, although short, on the left. It leads straight to the double door. Moe pulls the first one open and Ramiel holds them until she pushes the second one and then passes through, unwilling to push himself and struggle with her in the small space between the first and second door.

Then, they’re in – the yard is empty, but it has a small fountain, lots of plants, some of them shrivelled and some of them looking like somebody’s planted them there. He’s attention is mainly caught by the benches scattered around and Moe heads for one of them and sits down, then stretches her hand out. Behind her is a fence that divides yard in equal parts; he hasn’t seen it before.

Ramiel focuses back on the woman and he can see that she’s offering him the paper bag.

“I actually already ate.” She says with a shrug. “But Charlie said you might want to eat something. We need more time to get hungry than when we were alive, but you know... You’ve just gotten here so we thought you might be hungrier than the rest. Normally we eat only once a day.”

Ramiel thinks about it all, concludes that he’ll probably feel all of these things she’s telling him of on his own and then smiles and takes the bag from her. It contains cheese-flavoured rolls and he thanks her before speaking of anything else. He didn’t even realise he was hungry – it was just something that slipped his mind.

“Thanks.” He says again. “It’s nice of the two of you.” He stops for a moment, takes another roll before continuing. “Who’s Charlie?”

“He’s another resident. He’s out at the moment.” She does a vague movement that’s supposed to show to the outside and Ramiel looks slightly worried.

“Is it okay for him to be out?” Of course, he had luck and he’s found Moe outside as well, but he wasn’t sure if they made this a habit. “Will he be alright?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. As long as he comes back before the nightfall, otherwise he has really high chances of getting caught and becoming one of them. But it’s a theory – it’s never happened to anybody before, except for a guy who entered and the afterlife hadn’t accepted him.”

“Interesting.” It is, really. He wasn’t sure what else to say, or what to ask first. “So, just to make sure—I have died and this is the afterlife.” The woman nods. “And this is where some people live, in the afterlife. Only certain souls.” The woman nods both times. “And the rest are monsters who attack us.”

The woman nods, but shrugs as well, and she lets Ramiel finish eating his rolls and throw the paper bag away before she continues speaking.

“They attack each other too.” She doesn’t seem to terribly concerned. “But light harms them mainly and they become even more disfigured or they burn. Only those in early stages of mutations can come out at light.” Ramiel’s not sure what he’s seen, but he’s pretty sure early is not it. “Charlie would be safe anyway because if they did catch him and trapped him, all he would have to do is get to a point where sun will reach and they’ll just die, we’ll find him and that’s it.” She talks about this like it’s easy.

“In theory that sounds great.” He says, but he’s not feeling relieved at all.

“In practice, it’s never happened, so that’s even better.” He nods, not sure of what way to agree with her other than give her a smile.

“How many of us is here?” He tries with that question again, wording a little differently. The woman looks at him, back at the part of the complex where they came from and she seems a bit thoughtful, but when she looks at him she looks like she knew the answer all along.

“Including you and me – seven.” Seven. Seven.

“Only?” He doesn’t want to sound so disappointed. It just exits his mouth before he can stop it and he looks vaguely guilty, but she doesn’t seem to think this needs to be corrected or scolded in any way. Instead, she shows to a fence running along the yard and he only then notices there are no gates or any other entrances on any part of it. Then, she shows to other entrances to the building. The fence is preventing them from getting to them. “Other people live there?”

“Maybe, Ramiel, maybe.” Moe shrugs. She doesn’t sound like somebody who wastes time thinking about it. “I’ve once jumped over the fence—here.” She shows to the point right across from then. “And then I landed – here.” Then she points to the bench they’re sitting on with her finger. “They call it Moe’s Bench, you know.”

Ramiel laughs.

He’s nervous, really, and only now becoming so, because he’s not sure how he’ll fit it. These six people, they know each other – they’re a small community and know each other’s habits and quirks and he’s not sure how he’ll manage to squeeze in there. He’s not sure if they want him to do that all, if they’ll let him or if he’ll manage and if he does, how much time is it going to take?

He supposes he has time. He’s just died after all.

“So it loops.” She raises her tone when she says it, eyes wide and shrug over-exaggerated – it’s a joke and he laughs; this time it’s genuine. “But there might be other people, in some different spaceline or timeline, but you know, whatever—we’ve been through this place high and wide and we’ve found souls that weren’t supposed to be here, but they died quickly. Normally they just turn into those things, but we’ve let one stay in our building, for the kindness of it and it burned to death and then turned into a monster. We would’ve probably been maimed if it hadn’t been for Zero.”

“Zero killed it?” It’s strange that she calls Ramiel and Charlie by their names, but not Zero. He doesn’t ask.

Moe makes a sound of confirmation: “Broke her door down, barged in. She shot it on the spot, then shoved it out of the window until it burned. It wasn’t even the night when the transformation happened. She was thinking quick, otherwise we would’ve all been in a lot of pain. We don’t know what happens when somebody is exposed to the prolonged torture.”

“Never happened before.” He echoes her earlier words and she nods. “How do you know when somebody’s supposed to be here?”

“Your apartment has your number and your position – Zeta.” So he’s seventh. Sixth letter in the alphabet, seventh person to appear here. “All apartments are open. Only one part of the building is open. We normally patrol it each morning. If a door’s locked, the number appears and the order is written out beneath. We know what number each door is, though—we numbered them ourselves.” They’ve caught on to the pattern. Smart, this lot.

“So only when it’s officially branded, you know somebody new is supposed to come?” Moe makes another sound, another confirmation and he thinks he’s starting to understand. The afterlife is long but they’re not going to let it do whatever – they’re not questioning, but they’re also taking the control as much as they can into their own hands.

“Yours appeared this morning. You probably died recently, if it was unexpected? I don’t know. Simon’s showed up weeks before he did and he’s only recently said that he’s spent a lot of time in the hospital before he died, but that it was nearly certain.”

Which, basically, meant that Ramiel could’ve, somehow, prevented his own death – but he’s not sure how and when he tries to think about it, he feels empty. He’s dead anyway; what’s the point of thinking it over?

“So basically—do whatever you want, there’s only seven of us and be careful during the day.” It was basically it, of the things he understood, but he decided to give it another thought. He was sure he’d be seeing Moe around a lot – only seven of them – but he still didn’t want to bother her more than he needed to.

For a while they sit in silence, right before he remembers his windows and the metal plates on them; they were not fixed when he came but he has noticed he could slide them open and closed as he wished, and he still wasn’t sure of their purpose. He asks, then – Moe gives him a surprised look and let lets out an oooh.

“I forgot about it, oh my god—You would’ve noticed it tonight anyway, but still...” She does look genuinely guilty, but he doesn’t blame her. He would’ve probably forgotten too. “They’re mainly unneeded, but we put them up anyway. You know how monsters just pass by us? They truly do. It’s more for our own comfort.”

“How so?” From what he could gather, the plates are rather heavy – no light can go past the metal, surely, and they must make a lot of noise. Still, it might be safer with them on.

“Well, you know—We can turn on the light, do whatever, I don’t know... when the monsters are out in the city and all. But as I said, they attack each other, too. It’s disgusting and—it usually ruins our fun and all. Looking at it... Natasha has once even gotten sick, you know, so we try not to look. And it’s hard not to look at something when it’s basically calling for your attention. You don’t have to close the window that leads on the inner yard. Just the ones in your hallway.”

“Of course. I understand.” He says, voice honest. “It’s hard to ignore them when they’re moving.”

Moe hums, then sighs. She seems a bit down with the topic; he wished he didn’t ask, but there’s a part of him that told him he has the right to know. This conversation would be held either way.

“Besides.” She adds, on the afterthought. “They’re really loud. It’s disgusting to hear as well—the shrieks, screams, scraping and yelling. The sun scorches them by the morning. It’s like they know, you know? So they just quickly retreat to their own hiding spots. Charlie once managed to move them out. A whole lot of them – and they all burned down.”

“Charlie’s a bit of a catalyst, I would say?” He asks then and Moe shrugs.

“I thought Simon would be. But he’s very quiet, you know. Sometimes they go out together. It’ll be nice when you get to meet them.” Ramiel thanks her – says he wishes her words would be his good luck charm.

They have small talk then. Ramiel finds out the monsters don’t enter the shops at all even though they’re open at all times and that money is not needed her since only the seven of them are here. They take what they want, when they want, and stores resupply for them the next day, with ways unknown to them. Same thing happens with the apartments – they stay same in shape, but needed supplies are always there, with the condition that you exit and then enter the room again. Ramiel thinks it’s neat.

If something burns, he is told not to fret. He should see if any of them burned anything. Apparently he should stop by apartment 5 first, and then everything else. He mentally remembers that apartment 5 is on first floor, three apartments to the left of his own.

They don’t talk about anything significant – no dynamics within the tiny group, no questions about death anymore and most certainly no questions about the life before. It’s a pleasant conversation.

Soon, Ramiel bids Moe goodnight. He doesn’t to his apartment, lays down and realises – this is the life, now. He can’t die, but this is his life. He’s going to have to think of something to fill the eternity with.