Prompt #88 - Pain, for scroogette
Content Warning: None
"Scroogette" requested this one a long, loooong time ago, and unfortunately in the time it took me to write it, she's changed her username and now I don't know where she is. I hope this finds her somehow.
I was stargazing when they caught sight of me.
At first it was... exciting. Yes, exciting. My entire life I'd heard these stories, aliens and pollinators and the great honor of being "chosen". I hadn't even been afraid, I couldn't even conceive of the notion that these noble, intelligent beings would hurt me. Alien abduction I could believe in, but vicious, pointless cruelty? It seemed so implausible.
And then they cut me in half.
From what little information I could gather prior to my demise, I had been selected for some kind of foreign species limb regeneration program.
They could have just asked...
Alas. I died on their cold metal table on their cold metal ship, watching as they pulled pieces out of the lower half, dripping and dragging them across the upper half, mumbling in exasperation as they examined my viscera.
I thought that would be it, that I would cross over. I was even looking forward to it - I thought that at least I would be reunited with my family. I would see my brother again, my mother and father.
I had wanted that so badly.
Instead, I woke up face-down in the desert.
Worst of all, I wasn't alone.
"Perfect timing, Bella. My niece just left for school."
"Who are you? How do you know my name?"
"My name is Olive Specter, this is my house, and you'll address me simply as Olive," the old woman said calmly. "As for how I know your name, I was informed of your imminent arrival shortly before you got here."
"Informed?" Bella repeated. "By whom?"
"Why do the dead always ask so many questions?" The old woman groused, pushing herself from her chair. "Can't anyone ever just relax for a moment and appreciate the fact that they weren't required to rot?"
Bella sighed, disappointed anew. "So then I did die?"
"Of course you died," Olive said, brushing past her. A sweet, rotten scent wafted into Bella's face, carried on the hot desert wind. "You wouldn't be here otherwise."
"And where is 'here', exactly?"
"Strangetown."
"And what layer of hell is 'Strangetown'?"
"None, surprisingly. You won't be visiting any layer of Hell, though, or Heaven for that matter. You've been selected, dear. Congratulations on your acceptance into our elite society." Olive smiled as she brushed past her. "My condolences on your acceptance into our elite society."
"Selec -- elite socie --" Bella's mouth and mind became entangled, causing her to sputter vapidly in surprise. "What are you talking about?"
"Come with me. You've got a lot to learn, Bella."
* * *
"The dead control the living, and I control the dead."
"I am nobody's puppet, Olive."
"You are mine. You became mine when you loosed your final breath on that wretched ship."
"I never agreed to that arrangement."
"Compliance is always appreciated, but never a requirement."
"And if I decide not to go along with you? I'm already dead. What more can you possibly do to me?"
"I can hurt you. I can hurt you in ways you've never even imagined. Pain so agonizing it will make what those creatures did to you look like a pleasant tingle. And since you can't die, you'll endure. Your safety and comfort is entirely dependent on my good will and limited patience, and I'd advise you not to push for a demonstration of my abilities."
"I'm not afraid of you."
"That's fine, for now. Don't make me correct that."
* * *
"Where does this lead to?"
"They call it Elsewhere. It's where the dead live when they can't cross over. It makes travel between towns and sometimes worlds significantly quicker and easier, and I must pass through it in order to traverse my world unnoticed. Especially in our line of work."
Bella glanced at her. "And what exactly is our line of work?"
"You're a Collector, and I am a Distributor."
"That literally means nothing to me. Collector, Distributor. What do I collect? What do you distribute?"
"Pain."
* * *
"Why would we want to collect Pain?"
"To alleviate the suffering of others. Once we take it for ourselves, the afflicted are no longer burdened."
"And what do you do with it?"
"I redistribute it."
"What the hell do you mean, you 'redistribute it'?" Bella sputtered. "How can you 'redistribute' something that isn't even in your possession?"
Olive rolled her eyes, an oddly grand gesture on such a refined creature. "First you must understand precisely what Pain is." An elevator dinged behind them, causing Bella to twitch as she increased her stride to match Olive's. "Pain is agony in its purest form - the most horrific torture conceivable." She sounded quite pleased with this. "The distribution of Pain is far more elegant and excruciating than merely puncturing someone with a knife or bludgeoning them with, say, a tire iron, though that can be quite satisfying under the right circumstances. But Pain is... It is something that requires a great deal of practice and restraint. Very little is actually needed to be effective, and each Distributor finds their niche."
"Well, isn't that comforting," Bella said pettishly. "And who, exactly, do you distribute to?"
"To those worthy of such punishment."
Bella raised one perfectly threaded eyebrow at this revelation. "And how do you determine who is 'worthy'?"
"I don't," Olive replied. "It is decided by those in higher positions."
Bella's head turned sharply to stare at the old woman. "I thought you controlled the dead."
Olive shrugged. "And the Dominion controls me."
* * *
"Does it hurt?" Bella asked suddenly. "Collecting and Distributing?"
"Collectors suffer enormously, I'm afraid. You'll experience much of the same pain as the Innocent you're absolving." Olive glanced at her, gauging her reaction. "Only for a brief period, though. Then, you'll have to contain it before you can transfer it to me. You'll have to be smart about it, too, so you don't ruin it. We can't use Pain that's been improperly processed."
"And Distributors?" Bella pressed. "Do they feel pain?"
Olive hesitated, then shook her head slightly. "Distributors may feel an unpleasant sensation, like when your limbs fall asleep."
"Oh, well, that's fair. I have to endure excruciating pain, whether I obey you or not, and you -- you get pins and needles?"
"There's nothing to be done about it. It is what it is -- Collectors collect Pain, and in doing so, they experience pain. There is no way around it."
"What if I don't want to be a Collector? Is there a way to become a Distributor? Or whatever else is available in Elsewhere?"
"That can be a difficult, if not altogether impossible transition. We are given our tasks in accordance with our abilities. But ultimately, you'd have to talk to my sister about all that."
* * *
"We're here."
The house they arrived at seemed to be feigning abandonment. The yard was unused and phantom quiet, as still as a cemetery; the exterior was freshly painted and the front porch glowed in the eerie light provided by a small lamp outside of the windowless door. And yet there remained an uneasy suggestion of hollowness, as if though, despite the house's tidy outward appearance, inside it would offer nothing but empty rooms and dusty sadness.
"Who lives here?" Bella asked, rubbing nervously at her bare arms.
"The Grunt family," Olive responded, nodding at a dimly lit window where a blonde woman drifted past like a wraith. "The youngest son is terminal."
Bella shivered, thinking of her own young son and praying that she'd never be called to her own front door on such an unhappy mission. "Can we save him?"
"No," Olive said, softly. "That is not our place. But we can unburden him."
For a long, tortured moment, they lingered on the cement path, side-by-side as they prepared themselves for the task before them.
Finally, Bella looked to Olive, and her eyes were burning from the inside out. "I don't like pain."
"No," Olive shook her head. "But who does?"
* * *
The door opened before they could even reach the top of the stairs. A tired looking woman peered out them, the tiny flicker of hope in her eyes already fading at the sight of them.
"Who is she?" The woman asked, voice edged with despair.
"She is Rainelle's successor, dear girl. The Patron Saint of Extraterrestrial Vivisection, Bella Goth."
Bella looked anxiously at Olive, resisting the sudden childish urge to tug at her sleeve. "Can people still see me?"
"Lyla is a Reaper." Olive smiled coldly at the other woman, who glowered back at her. "She's loitering about this dung heap, waiting for orders to cut the little one loose."
Bella turned to Lyla. "You're dead, too?"
Lyla nodded, still glaring at Olive as she stepped back to allow Distributor and Collector into the entryway of the house. "I died on Olive's property. I'm surprised she hasn't told you about that yet - she usually finds it to be quite the icebreaker." To Olive, she spat, "That place is a death trap, as well as an eyesore. I'm surprised the authorities haven't condemned it yet."
"Such bitterness," Olive said. "You're no fun when you're like this."
"My son is dying," Lyla snapped, her wide blue eyes going red around the edges. "How would you feel if it were Nervous in his position?"
"Why should I feel anything?" Olive asked curiously, seemingly genuinely puzzled by the question. "I hardly know Nervous."
Lyla glared at her with such ferocity and hatred that Bella was afraid she might actually turn violent. The whole confrontation made her intensely uncomfortable.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly, touching Lyla's hand. It was as cold and hard as plastic. Lyla pulled it away, tucking it into the palm of her other hand.
"Are you the Collector?" Bella nodded. "He's upstairs, resting. Take as much as you can, and then take more."
* * *
"Put your hands on him. One on his face - anywhere on his face, that's fine - and one on his heart."
Bella did as she was instructed, gently placing one hand directly in the middle of the boy's sweat-slicked face and the other on his desperate, rabbit heart, which hummed beneath her palm.
She looked helplessly at Olive, unsure of what to do next.
"Concentrate," Olive said, lowering herself onto a chair across from the bed. "Think of the Pain gathering inside of him, under your hands. Concentrate on absorbing it."
She imagined the Pain, hot white with rotten, purple-black veins, pooling beneath the skin where her hands rested.
It filled her hands. Hot, burning hot. It spread up into her arms, travelling fast, expanding in her chest like a balloon filled with razors and broken glass. Overfilling, ready to burst.
It hurt like hell.
"Do not stop," Olive commanded, sounding several worlds away.
"Please," Lyla begged. Crying. Why was she crying? How dare she; she wasn't hurt.
I can make her.
Why should Olive have all the fun?
The Pain was enormous, it was scorching her blood and melting her bones.
"Contain it," Olive panted. "Concentrate, Bella! Gather it inside of yourself as you did with the boy."
Was she insane?
She must be, to think that anyone could concentrate under the weight of such grievous injury.
"Gather it inside of you," Olive repeated. "Quickly, before you spoil it."
A scarlet bolt of volcanic anger sliced through the pain. A blistering rage began to seep in, gnawing at the edges of her searing misery. She could almost feel it shrinking, making room for the blind hatred that had begun to consume her, to displace everything in its path until murderous fury was all that she could feel.
And then suddenly that, too, was gone.
"Good girl," Olive said approvingly. "That might be a new record."
Lyla slipped past her and touched her son's face. His breathing had evened, his face seemed less tortured. Perhaps he would die peacefully now. "Thank you."
Bella smiled weakly, too exhausted to form a proper response.
* * *
"My hands hurt."
Olive nodded sympathetically, mouth drawn into a thin line. "As time goes on, you'll get better. Soon, you'll be able to Collect without any lingering effects. But for now, your hands will hurt."
They waited together in silence at the elevator, listening to the muffled "ding" as it moved from town to town.
"Now what?"
"Now we return to Elsewhere so you can detox. We'll remove the Pain you've collected and put it in proper storage." She smiled, then, a sweet girlish grin that made Bella's heart seize. "Then we'll get the Naughty List from Willow, and be on our merry way."
***
NOTES: I know this is kind of vague and has a shit ton of dialogue. Dialogue is a really weak spot for me, so I wanted to work on it. I may have gone overboard.
I may revisit this idea later on, after I finish up some other things. I have a few other ideas that take place in Elsewhere, and I'd like to explore them more thoroughly at some point.
Thank you to scroogette for the request!