The Corridor

FYI! THIS MIGHT NOT BE SUITABLE TO THOSE WHO ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IDEAS OF DEATH OR DYING



Alice was cold when she woke up. Her back arched against the gilded, golden floor, and felt a strange purple fog cover her like a light, wet blanket. This wasn’t where she was before, she remembered the grass poking her skin, and the heat warming her, that and the flush of blood that flooded from her stomach…

The girl slowly sat up, instinctively clutching her stomach where the wound once was, but there was nothing left. Her shirt wasn’t wet or warm, there wasn’t a remnant of anything that even remotely looked like blood when she looked at her palm, and there was no more pain to experience. She… Couldn’t understand… When she looked around, she noticed the golden pillars that stretched up to a ceiling she couldn’t see, paintings hanged on the walls that held oils and egg tempera that was carefully crafted into moments of her life—each one was so intricate, almost like whomever painted them managed to freeze time in the frames.

Before Alice could investigate the paintings further, she heard the soft clicks of footsteps, and they were approaching slowly. She stood, trying to peer through the darkness and fog to see what was approaching, and at first she only saw the gentle glow of a lantern swinging slowly. Soon enough, however, she saw what she was so scared of before. The first person—or thing, for that matter—Alice saw was strangely eerie. The creature carried itself like a human, holding its lantern staff close and leaning its chin on the wood; a lantern hanging from the staff and burning gently; but its hands, its feet, and even its face was sheep-like—maybe even doll-like.

Alice took in what she could; the light illuminating the fabric texture of the sheep's face, and the fire dancing in its glass eyes, Alice thought for a moment that it was staring through her, but it was hard to tell with nothing behind the dark glass... Alice’s eyes trailed down to the gray cloak it wore, simple linens that were stitched with sprouting flowers and bright colors that contrasted against the dark material, as if the cloak itself caused life to grow. The staff held similar patterns, etched with flowers and vines that crawled up the crook that held the lantern.

"Hello." The creature spoke, its feminine voice slow and smooth, almost soothing like a mother consoling a child. Though its voice wouldn't have been able to hide the fact its mouth didn't move. "Are you alright? You must be confused." The being crouched down to meet Alice’s eyeline, offering a hand—well, hoof—to assist her up. Alice reluctantly reached out, feeling the cold and fragile glass of its ceramic hooves. What was this thing?

“Uh… Wh…” Alice pulled herself up with the creature’s help, her words feeling trapped in her throat. She looked around once more, only now noticing other strange translucent figures in the mist, fading in and out of existence with other versions of the same creature that was now speaking to her. “Where… Am I?”

“You’re in the Corridor,” the creature said, standing alongside Alice, “a place to reflect on your actions in life, and come to terms with what had happened. My name is Elyndra, I am your guide.” Elyndra’s tone had the same soft, silvery smoothness that she had before, but there was almost a hint of sadness or grief. It made Alice’s stomach churn.

Alice had heard stories about the Corridor, but she didn't think it was real, but she was never confident in the idea of an afterlife as a whole—wait… Does this mean she died out there? Did she die laying on the grass in a land she couldn't call home? The realization pressed down on her like an invisible wave, threatening to drown her fear and sorrow. “I… I’m dead? But—how?!”

Elyndra only nodded slowly, placing a porcelain hoof on her shoulder. “Breathe, Alice… Your death doesn’t have to hold weight over you, don’t panic.” The creature lowered her voice to just above a whisper; a whisper that seemed to echo in Alice’s ears, past the sound of her heart pounding and quickened breaths.

Soon, Alice’s panicked breaths turned into soft weeping, tears streaming down her face as she let out quiet cries. She fell back down to her knees, unable to stand with this unbearable weight trying to suffocate her. Through blurred tears, she saw Elyndra kneel down and offer a hug, which the girl took without much resistance, desperate for any sort of comfort. She clung to the soft linen, feeling the delicate petals become crushed between her fingers as her weeps turned to sobs.

Elyndra was mostly silent throughout the entire process, only offering quiet shushes and soft reassurance, her hoof stroking Alice’s dark hair slowly. “It’s alright, Alice… Take your time, we can continue whenever you’re ready, even if it takes centuries.” She rested her head on Alice’s, nuzzling her softly as she began to quiet down, maybe due to the eventual exhaustion that came from crying.

It felt like forever before Alice could finally stand back up again, using Elyndra’s shoulders to push herself off the ground. Her legs were still shaking, making it hard to walk or even stand, but she wasn't going to keep this sheep here while she wallowed in grief from her death. With a hard swallow, Alice let out a soft breath and spoke. “I… I'm fine, let's go…”

“Are you sure?” Elyndra asked, taking the woman’s hands into her own; her ceramic hooves smooth and fragile against the hardened, calloused hands of the soul in front of her. “The corridor has no time to waste, no reason to hurry through your remorse and pain. The goddesses want to help you feel peace.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Alice sniffled and wiped her eyes, which were now red and puffy. She looked around at her surroundings once again as Elyndra stood, taking a second look at the paintings that decorated the walls. Seeing small moments of her life like this, captured so delicately in paint with every small detail—was this meant to make her feel better? Because it didn’t.