Burden of the After Life

Bullets screeched, whistled and curdled people's blood in the dimly lit warehouse. The flying cars outside honked and rushed past each other; their occupants were too busy to notice the butchering inside. I dropped one man after another until their leader Murk said, "You came a long way. Tell me, how much am I worth?"

I doughed his bullets and hid behind a container. It rumbled with the slashing bullets.

"A trip to Paradise."

"Ah, you need a numbing pill. What? To coward to make the trip."

"Too weak to survive the trip," I answered.

"Ah, you were always honest, Jack. I respect that."

I came out, fixed my eyes on his chubby face with the sharp moustache, and fired. It whistled and made his ear bleed. He cried and escaped through a metal door as thick as a bank's vault door.

"Why burden yourself with another life?" he said as one of his henchmen sealed it behind him. His words mimicked that of Eden, my love.

"Why burden yourself with the afterlife?"

"I will be able to do everything. Once my brain gets uploaded, I won't even need to eat and get all the pleasure and delights."

The storm of bullets pulled me out, and I peeked: The henchman had a goddamn minigun with seeking bullets. One of them hit my right hand, dropping my gun and making it useless. The others shook the container. I can't fight him one on one. I had to find another way. I searched for the nearby chips and found only one. Time to cry big guy; I hacked it, and a scream came from the other end.

"Should have invested more on those chips than steroids," I said as I approached the kneeling giant. "Now, open that door."

He shook his head, so I increased the intensity. He cried, punching the ground. He looked at me again, his big eyes numbed. I nodded at the door, and he touched to open it. Then I shot him right in the head. That's one of the reasons I wanted to go to Paradise, as I told Eden.

"I'll have complete control of my emotions."

"Will you still love me? What if you switch off your love for me?"

Stupid Eden, what's the benefit of switching off an emotion? It's stupid. A bullet passed my ear, I looked around, and a laser snapped on my head, a sniper. A bullet tore through my jacket, and I jumped to avoid the others. Who uses a laser in this day and age? I scanned the corridor again but found no chip. How is this possible? I looked again, and the sniper was just a boy of about 17. He had the same potato face as his father, and his hands trembled when he shot. I rushed to the other cover, covering the balcony in bullets. I peeked from behind the container: The boy was on his knees, panting. What kind of father throws away his boy like that?

"Go home, kid," I said. "This isn't your fight."

Another bullet roared and banged the container. Echoing a resounding No. That kid, doesn't he know he can't kill me? A pile of boxes dropped as Murk frantically ran for the exit gate, which gleamed in red on the other end. The kid isn't trying to kill me. He is distracting me for his dad to escape. Well, it's his fault. I came out and aimed my revolver at his head, but my hand wobbled.

"Love is unconditional, Jack. You won't find it in that place of complete freedom."

I can't. Ah, emotions make us weak. I aimed at his shoulder and fired, but that dummy ran, and his head splattered on the wall. His body slipped and fell like a soulless manikin. But when his father cried out of the cover on the other side, I knew he surely had a soul and someone who loved him.

"Will all the money be enough for you?" I said, shooting Murk in the leg. "How many souls have to die?"

"I don't know. I wasn't the one doing the killing."

I shot his left shoulder, and tears burst out of his eyes.

"You don't get to teach me about morality."

"Do you think I wanted this? I stopped him a million times, but he wouldn't listen to me."

"You should have tried harder!"

"He's my boy. He wanted to help. He can't just switch off his love for me? Tell me, Jack, wouldn't you do the same for your white flower?"

I frowned and picked him up, exited the warehouse, threw him in my car and away I went.

"Here it is, Jack. One numbing pill. That'll be 100 thousand Bents."

I gave all I had and the one from the bounty, and, finally, finally, I had it in my hand. My one-way ticket to Paradise; I gotta tell Eden.

"Yes, Maria Curing House."

"Curing House?"

I bashed through the door as the smell of varnish unbalanced me, and the gleaming white walls blinded me. I ran toward the receptionist.

"Eden. She's a white-haired, 26-year-old—"

Her cries came from the faraway operation room.

"What happened?" I asked the head doctor.

"Sir, you are not allowed."

"What happened?"

"She had too many drugs. Her chip is malfunctioning. We are removing it."

My blood boiled as she cried when the scalpel pierced her.

"Can't you make her unconscious?"

"We tried. It isn't working."

"Try something stronger."

"Do you have the money?"

I scrubbed my pockets, and only the pill came out. But is she worth it? Of course, she's worth it. She's worth everything. But Paradise? It won't matter there. I could just switch— What am I even thinking?

"Here," I said, giving the doctor the pill.

I sat with her when they transferred her to a room. When my hand wobbled, it wasn't weakness. It was the last bit of humanity I had left, and then I took all of his. Murk was right. It was me doing the killing. What would I get in Paradise? Endless pleasure and delight, sure, but will I still be me?

She opened her eyes. "Jack?"

I grasped her hand. "Hey, how are you feeling?"

"Fine," she whispered.

"Why…did you do this?"

"You were gonna… leave me."

"I would never."

"Your pill… you gave it to me?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"I love you."

"Would you have done that if you switched off your love for me?"

"Of course I…"

"Speak the truth."

I looked into her eyes. Why does she always ask me questions like this? "No, maybe I wouldn't have."

"See, I was right," she started laughing, and I never thought of going to Paradise again. She was enough.