I re-entered the stream of my meditation, allowing the current of memories to guide me through my life since reincarnating as a ghost.

  My arrival in Hell after meeting the Supreme Ruler, could mildly be described as culture shock.

  I awoke from unconsciousness to a unfinished dirt ceiling.

  “You’re finally awake” came a rasping voice from the darkness.

  My attention now shifting to the room, my eyes adjusting to the dim lighting. I was in an infirmary, white curtains on both sides and an old man at the foot of my bed. He was hunched over a cane, robes dishevelled and beard, long and grey. Just above his bushy eyebrows and squinting eyes were two curling horns of obsidian.

  With surprising speed, the old man approached my bedside and reached towards my torso, my eyes following his movement. I recoiled as I saw a massive leech-like insect affixed to my stomach. Its body was slimy and transparent, its organs visible through the opaque skin. A purple liquid was being siphoned from my abdomen into the core of the leech.

  “Gentle now” crooned the man, “my precious slime will only burrow deeper the more it senses fear.”

  “Well that’s not helping”, I retorted, the rising panic accompanied with the slime’s teeth starting to shift.

  Before any sensation of pain could settle in, the old man deftly twisted the leech from my abdomen cradling the two-foot-long abomination in his arms.

  Purple liquid seeped from the wound left by the slime. I was left unattended while he carried the slug to a cradle on the opposite side of the room, humming a lullaby that sounded like a familiar tune but in a flat scale. My oozing gut wound did not seem to be a priority or bother to him.

  I coughed imploringly, which only seemed to further slow the old man’s movements. Those devilish horns seemingly less out of place as his piss poor personality unveiled itself. By the time the old man returned with a salve and bandages, the bed beneath me was tinged purple.

  “Taking your bloody time”, I complained.

  “You ghosts are made of tougher stuff than my precious slime”, the old man grumbled while bandaging me.

  Despite the initial shock, there was no pain and the horned nurse’s administrations were gentle.

  “What is a slime?” I asked as he tidied up the equipment.

  “Something you should get comfortable with, as it's the fastest way to cleanse impurities from the soul.”

  More confused than before, I filed away the information to unpack later when things settle down.

  “What am I doing here?”

  “I guess you could call it an initiation rite?” The old Demon replied, “Everyone get’s knocked out.”

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  “What do you mean?”

  “When a soul descends to the Hells, they all go through the same initiation. They meet the God of Hell and he shows them a glimpse of the Cosmos, and consequently they lose consciousness (some die, but that's rare). To be honest, most of the time the initiation is held in groups of 100. You, however, had the honour of meeting our God one-on-one. Honestly, I am surprised you recovered so quickly. But alas, you ghosts truly are hardy things.”

  Turning on his heels before I could interrogate him further, he disappeared behind the curtains which blocked my view. The sound of curses and drawers slamming gave me the impression he was searching, unsuccessfully, for something.

  As I awaited the nurse’s return, I noticed a red bar and a blue bar hovering just outside my vision to the left. When I focused on them, the bars came into view. They were two status bars indicating my health (in red) and soul (in blue). Currently my health was 180/200 and my soul bar was barely filled with only 10/150. Logic told me that this must reflect my current wellbeing; the health status was self-explanatory, whereas the soul status was not.

  “What’s this “soul” status I can see?” I called out to the nurse.

  “Ummm”, he shouted back, returning to my bedside with something under his arm. “That’s what ghosts use for magic. I don’t really know all the mechanics.” As if to answer any follow up questions, he handed me a pile from under his arm.

  I started unwrapping the brown package.

  “What’s th… A uniform?!” I asked incredulously.

  “As you just demonstrated”, the old Demon snorted, “you’re far lacking in ghostly education.”

  “You gotta be kidding me. I’m two decades too old for school.”

  “You were…” corrected the nurse, clearly unphased and familiar with this exact scenario.

  I felt my blood boiling and decided to make a hasty exit before I let the impulse to beat up the unbothered geezer take over.

  “Thank you..” I managed through clenched teeth and stormed out of the infirmary.

  I should have asked for directions, but after my dramatic departure, I couldn’t go back without tarnishing my dwindling sense of dignity.

  “School?” I groused, the thought bringing back memories of loneliness and mild bullying.

  Thus, I roamed the halls of this foreign place - descending deeper into a maze that I was realising might be my demise. Of course, the pathways in Hell would be labyrinthian.

  —

  After several minutes (or perhaps hours passed, spending time within the confines of a maze had a way of bending time), I decided to try a more innovative approach.

  I yelled for help.

  My voice boomed through the hallways, their emptiness allowing the sound to carry far in every direction.

  Several moments later, a terrifying cinematic moment unfolded. The likes only seen in the best of Japanese horror films. What initially caught my attention was a barely audible dripping of water on stone floor. I turned (very cautiously) in the direction of the noise. As if all my fears had come to life, I saw the tattered form of a pale girl at the far end of the hallway. As much as a trope can be overdone - hallways and little girls in ANY universe are scary.

  She blended into the shadows, only visible when she drifted past the lamps illuminating the hallways. Her hair fell across her face in streaks of oily black, and her feet, which were bruised and bleeding, did not touch the ground.

  Drip.. drip.. drip..

  “Well, running seems to never work in the movies, right?” I asked myself. “I mean, this is Hell after all. Could just be a kind citizen trying to help me out?”

  Despite trying to rationalize my fears, I couldn’t help but take a few steps back.

  The girl let out a heavy sigh, as if facing a repeatedly irritating problem. She brushed her hand through her hair revealing a pale, yet beautiful face. Thin eyebrows perfectly shaped, petite button nose freckled faintly. She had rosy cheeks that would have been plump if the flesh on half her face was not missing. Exposed muscles rippled while a maggot peeked from behind a tendon.

  To my embarrassment, for a second time since entering this maze I screamed for help.