Before the Gate
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Trevor found himself standing on a bright white featureless plane next to an archway with two huge metal doors.
“Hello,” he shouted. His voice fell oddly flat, as though he were yelling into the fog.
He walked around the doorway now. It must be eight meters across. The doors looked to be half a meter thick. Out of curiosity, Trevor pushed hard on one of the doors. It didn’t move at all.
Upon closer inspection, he noticed the doors looked to be melted together. At about eye level there was a circular impression, as though a signet had been pressed into the metal while it was still soft. What did it mean?
“Trevor!” he heard Michael’s voice suddenly behind him.
“Michael! Am I…dead?” he inquired.
Michael thought for a moment before answering. “In a sense, I suppose so. Let’s say that you are only mostly dead.”
“What do you mean, ‘mostly dead’?” said Trevor in alarm.
“Well, it also means you are slightly alive.” Michael’s eyes twinkled at this, like there was something Trevor was missing. “Now, what is the last thing you remember?”
“Laying down on the altar, and those rings spinning around me.”
“Was there any discomfort?” Michael continued.
“I guess it was hard and a little cold,” Trevor said.
“Not so bad then. Others have found it worse.”
“Michael, where’s Tasha?” Trevor asked.
“She will be along shortly. There is only so much bandwidth available when you are passing before a gate.”
Trevor looked at the gate again. “Do we go through it, then?”
Michael stepped up to the gate, and held the medallion around his neck up to the seal. “No, no one is going through the gates again.”
When Trevor awoke he was lying flat in the center of the platform, naked as the day he was born. He felt horribly dizzy and disoriented. His muscles didn’t seem to want to respond properly as he tried to sit up.
He managed to prop himself up with his elbows behind him. As he did so, a small circle of lit traces beneath him faded away, and a cold draught descended on him, making him shiver.
“To your left you will find some clothes. Put on the first set. It will keep you warm,” informed a voice. It sounded like Michael, but had an odd quality to it.
The cold was such that he didn’t waste time looking for the source of the voice. He cast about as quickly as he could manage. The pile of clothes consisted of a robe and sandals located just outside the circle he had woken in. The robe didn’t look like much. It had the texture of thick, tight-knit wool, but felt much lighter, insofar as he could trust his senses. They felt distant, as though someone far away was doing the sensing, and he was an observer. The robe went on with surprising ease, despite his uncooperative arms. It was almost as if it was helping his enervated limbs. The robe was very long, and spread about him. Immediately he felt warmer.
The most pressing need satisfied, Trevor rolled over to try and see where the voice was coming from. It was difficult to focus his eyes. “Michael, was that you?” he asked. He could make out a figure seated on the edge of the platform by the ramp, made visible in the gloom by emanating a faint red glow.
“Near enough that I won’t complain,” came the reply. The figure hopped up and strode towards him. “How do you feel? Does the portal feel faithful?”
“I can’t move right,” Trevor complained. “Something is wrong with my body.”
“Yes, that is to be expected. Sit up now. It is your first time through a portal. How many fingers am I holding up?” Trevor tried to focus on the glowing fingers. “The portal took your very essence and passed it before the sealed gate. It then pulled it back here, far from our point of origin, and bound it to this new body. You will need time to adjust.”
“So what was that gate?” Trevor asked.
“It is the gate to the Third Hell,” Michael explained.
“Wait, this portal thing sent me to Hell?” Trevor exclaimed, alarmed.
“Not the same place as you are thinking,” Michael clarified grimly, “but close enough for those inside, I daresay. No more now, it is a subject I find distasteful.”
Michael got up and retrieved Trevor’s belongings from the circles around the periphery. While Michael was examining him, Trevor noticed that he looked much younger, with a full head of hair and an unbent back.
“Did the portal give you a new body, too?” he inquired.
Michael looked over at Trevor, as if deciding what to say. “A new Fire, yes. The form that you see, I give myself. Like I said before, the Outside is no place for the old or the weak.”
Michael set the bundle of belongings down next to Trevor. The only thing Trevor recognized was the spear given to him by the Ghost Lady.
“Where are my things?” asked Trevor, a bit miffed.
“The portal replaced them with compiler-optimized versions,” explained Michael simply. “Now, come with me into the next room so I can bring Tasha along.”
Trevor blushed and allowed Michael to help him along. Michael sat him on a bench with his sandals. “Try to tie these,” he said. “It should help you figure out how to use your hands again.”
Trevor struggled for a while to no good effect. He heard a CRACK from the room where he had awoken, and then Michael’s voice. Soon Michael appeared again with Tasha on his arm, wearing a robe similar to his.
“How is she?” Trevor asked. “Did she come through ok too?”
“It’s OK or okay,” corrected Michael absent-mindedly, guiding her awkward steps towards the bench where Trevor sat.
“Yes, and I got my voice back too!” exclaimed Tasha.
Trevor looked into her smiling face as she walked nearer, and realized that there were other changes. “And your teeth, and eyes!” he exclaimed.
Though she had started to sit, Tasha paused. She looked at Trevor as she lifted her hands to her mouth and felt tentatively inside. She pulled them out with a look of revulsion, and looked down at her hands, letting out an anguished scream.