Achieving Heaven Through Hell Part 1: A Peaceful Afterlife

Chapter 12

Sorry this one took so long to get out, it's been a busy week!

Any criticism or comments are more than welcome, this story's about to wrap up in the next couple of chapters.

Chapter 12 Coping Strategies

His eyes opened, it was bright enough to make him squint.

Where was he?

The room was sparse, austere, with little else in it but a door, a chair, the bed he was in, and a desk with a television on it. His thoughts were slow, sludgy, the inside of his head felt like pudding. He centered his breathing, inhaling and exhaling, pumping oxygen to the still-slumbering parts of his brain. It would not do for a man of his talents and background to languish in bed for so long, whatever those talents and background were. He presently couldn't recall the specifics, but there was little doubt in his heart that he was a man of means, a man of standing. Slowly but surely, memories began to resurface. A road? A bridge? An overpass. Yes. An overpass. Others were there, people he trusted, and others too, a stranger and a demon. A tormentor. A devil. He held this man in particular regard for some reason. This figure burned in his mind like an ember. Who was he?

The door opened and in walked a fish-demon. His huge, muscular bulk took up much of the room as he stooped and turned sideways to enter. In his hands was a tray and on it was a bowl, a juice box, and a Styrofoam cup. The fish-demon's quartet eyes locked onto him and lit up like he'd seen an old friend.

"GiGi!" He exclaimed, a grin spreading across his snout. "You're up!"

GiGi? G-G. God Given. His name, his HERE name. He had another, but that was from before, from elsewhere, a shameful name. Here he was God Given, someone of repute, someone of means, someone respected and renowned. Someone feared. God Given was the man to know. He was God Given.

The fish-demon glowed in his murky memories as a man of integrity, someone he could trust. A man with a name...?

"...Moonshine?"

"Yeah!" Moonshine said, grinning happily as he limped over to the bedside. "Sorry I didn't get you anything. The docs went and said you wouldn't wake up for a few days! Figures you'd show 'em who's boss!"

Of course! Who could expect someone of his lineage to lay back and coalesce like some weakling? He'd been laid low, certainly, but nothing short of second-death could keep him down! He was indomitable!

He was hungry.

Moonshine picked up on this and set the tray down over him, clipping it onto the handrails on either side of the bed. God Given tried to sit up, hissing as his ribs and shoulder protested loudly and fiercely. He still managed, not to be cowed by a little pain, swatting away Moonshine's webbed hand as he moved in to help. He examined his meal. A bowl of chunky, watery soup, a box of Tuti-Fruti, and in the Styrofoam cup was a single scoop of strawberry ice-cream. He sampled the soup and was dismayed to discover it was an especially inept attempt at jambalaya. Still, it was food. As he ate his mind cleared, memories edged their way back in, Mr. Clean, the fight, the... thing that happened. Light and sound and pain.

"What happened?"

Moonshine sighed and shook his head. "That whore Clean was neckin' with sucker-punched us with a bomb. You and Bug got it worst, but me and 'Face caught some flak, too."

God Given sucked his teeth in disgust. "Dammit. We had him, too. We were so close!"

"Ayuh." Moonshine nodded. "Boss ain't happy, though. Turns out we weren't supposed to attack him. Now, why didn't that little tidbit get back to us?"