9 Invaders

Lily

Lily stared at the laptop that had appeared in her living room.

The night before, she’d staggered home from Hell, drunk off her ass, giggling like a lunatic, and singing old ABBA songs under her breath. Max had blinked at her disapprovingly for interrupting his nap in front of the fire. She’d whisper-yelled an apology before leaving a trail of clothes to her room, flopping on top of the sheets naked and passing out within seconds.

When she’d woken up well into the morning, memory told her that she should be waking up with the kind of raging hangover that would result in at least a year of fearful sobriety and a lifelong aversion to whatever liquor or cocktail had tried to ruin her liver.

Nausea. Puking. Headache. Weirdly sweaty—especially her lower back. Why did her lower back always get sweaty? She’d mentally calculated the distance from her bed to the bathroom, which, granted, didn’t have a toilet, but what the hell, she’d puke in the tub and then never drink again—

“Wait a fucking second.”

When she’d opened her eyes, the light hadn’t felt like an icepick boring into her brain. She’d sat up. No swooping stomach, no blurry vision, no sweaty—ah shit, her lower back was a little sweaty, but was that it? She’d wiggled free of the blanket that had appeared from somewhere and stood, toes buried in the plush rug.

Nothing.

“Holy shit , that’s lucky!”

The ball of fur on one of the pillows had shifted with a half awake little brrrp of sound.

She’d laughed mid-stretch. “Guess this is Paradise, huh, Maxy- Max? No praying to the porcelain god for me.”

Only after a lengthy shower and a hearty breakfast had she noticed the computer. It had no logo or marking of any kind, and it, like the phone that had appeared beside her bed one morning, was unlike any make or brand she recognized, but it was perfectly navigable all the same. Plus, it was damn near instantaneously fast.

The search engine had a list of suggested sites, including something called MortalTube that she clicked on curiously, and almost immediately exited out of. Livestreams of mortal events, of political debates, of concerts, of people . A banner at the top of the page gave the caveat: All livestreams are censored for modesty and are not available at all times. One nausea-inducing search bar had been specifically to find loved ones left behind.

Lily stuck to the Afterlife-specific pages after that, searching for events and scrolling through the lists of coffee shops, curious about one called Common Grounds that seemed to be very popular.

A message popped up in the corner of her screen from Crocell, an invite to an Invaders lobby that evening. Like with Siedah’s contact in her phone, she assumed that the Universe connected people who wanted to connect. Cool.

She read the message.

Crocell: It’s a partially open lobby so there will be some random people from Hell, but Krun and his wife, Naamah, will be in it, as well as a few other demons from our shift. Please join us. Show us how mortals can kick ass but, like, nicely.

Lily grinned.

* * *

Hazy twilight had draped itself over the landscape by the time Lily settled in front of the computer with a mug of cocoa, Invaders already glowing on her screen. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, half considering using her old social media handle, LilyPad , as her username.

But this was a new world, and she was funny. And a nerd.

She typed out then erased half a dozen options, nibbling on her lower lip in concentration before inspiration struck.

Nearamir.

Chuckling to herself, she picked from the available skins for her character—purple—added a little flower as decoration, and spawned into the lobby, pulling on her headphones while it loaded.

“Oh, hey, new person,” username Croaky said, sounding suspiciously like Crocell.

“Hey, thanks for the invite,” Lily said, scanning the names and snickering.

“How about we introduce ourselves? Username only?” Croaky suggested. There was a chorus of agreement, then the names came hard and fast.

Stabby was a smooth male voice, who spoke with quiet precision. A bubbly female voice belonged to TacoTime. Fezzik had to be Krun, she was damn sure of it, especially when the username Buttercup introduced herself right after with a soft, gentle voice. Theirs were the only matching usernames in the lobby. NotGuilty was definitely female and sounded vaguely familiar, WohnJick’s voice was unfamiliar and male, but cheerful, and ObiWonton had a crisp, androgynous voice and seemed rather reserved.

Then the final player, a hot-pink little figure with bat wings, spoke up. “Hey, this is FruitBat; I’m friends with Stabby and TacoTime.”

Lily sat up so fast she nearly spilled her cocoa. The voice was unmistakably male: deep, resonant, slightly growly, and sexy as shit . Krun’s voice was deep, but this voice…this voice was hot.

She wasn’t alone in her surprise either; half the lobby reacted with gasps or laughter or sounds of disbelief. She set her cocoa on the safety of the side table.

Is it a voice kink if it’s just for one voice?

Then he chuckled. FruitBat chuckled, and it stroked along her skin, thudding through her chest like a phantom heartbeat.

All control over her mouth seemed to be in the hands of her hormones, which was why she heard her own awed voice cutting through the murmur of other people. “Okay, listen, that is the sexiest voice I have ever heard, what the fuck ?”

Bel

Bel laughed again, even as his face heated. More like went supernova. His ears burned . Half the lobby cackled openly, this time at the woman’s awestruck tone. A few, Greg included, groaned.

“Here we go again,” Angel chortled gleefully.

“Every time,” Greg muttered. “It happens every time.”

Another voice, sounding a bit smug, said, “He’s not the deepest voice in the lobby.”

The original voice, smooth and female chimed back in. “Sorry, Kru—uh, Fezzik, you have the deepest voice here, but FruitBat has the sexiest, in my opinion anyway.”

“Sexy is so subjective. But as a baseline, I’d say he’s alright,” Angel put in.

“Is it possible to be attracted to a voice?” a different speaker, possibly NotGuilty, asked.

There were resounding and discordant responses of “Yes.”

“Hey, FruitBat,” the original woman said, her tone carrying a serious note, “is this making you uncomfortable? We can stop.”

“Speak for yourself,” someone muttered.

“If it makes him uncomfortable, we stop.” The pretty voice had an edge to it.

Yes, yes, it was possible to be attracted to a voice. Bel shifted in his chair, stretching his wings around the specially designed back. “I appreciate you checking…who is this?”

“Nearamir.”

Bel cocked his head, smile creeping over his lips when he found the little purple figure. “Like Faramir? From Lord of the Rings ?”

He could hear the grin in her voice. “Yeah, but closer.”

Bel laughed so hard his stomach ached. Whoever she was, he liked her.

Lecti, his head housekeeper, appeared in the doorway with an unidentifiable expression. He pointed to the computer in explanation, and she nodded slowly, a series of emotions he couldn’t quite make out flitting over her face before she left, glancing over her shoulder with a soft smile.

His laughter wasn’t that rare these days, was it?

“That doesn’t even make any sense,” someone said. “Wouldn’t, like, Uglyamir be better?”

“Phonetically maybe, but it’s spelled F-A-R-amir, not F-A-I-R-amir, so’s more of a visual play on it,” Nearamir explained.

Bel leaned forward, still chuckling. “It’s an elite-level nerd joke, and I salute it. I don’t mind the reaction to the voice; I know it’s deep.”

There was a beat of silence before someone muttered something unintelligible. His phone lit up.

Greggles: If I’m the invader I’m killing you first, just to keep the thirsting to a minimum.

Bel: You’re just jealous, she sounds cool

Greggles: Half the lobby is horny for you right now.

Bel: Touchy touchy

“Are we doing proximity chat?” Bel asked, setting his phone aside, screen down.

“I vote yes, if only to keep listening to you, big guy,” Nearamir crooned teasingly, a hint of laughter in her voice.

Bel smirked.

“How do you know he’s big?” Croaky asked.

“Just his vibe. Plus, I haven’t seen a demon yet that I would classify as ‘small’.”

Demon. Yet. Small.

“Wait.” Bel hunched toward his screen, staring at the little character with the flower on its chest as if he could see through to the person controlling it. “Are you mortal ?”

A brief pause.

“Mortal soul, yeah.”

A ripple of disbelieving noise quickly turned into a warm chatter of greetings. This Invaders lobby was fairly private, and mainly comprised of Hell denizens. Most mortal souls were skittish around demons, but she must have befriended a demon to know about it. Or be dating one.

Bel glanced at the little character again, curious.

His phone glowed around the edges as someone texted him. Probably Greg or Angel. Then again, it might be work. He checked the screen, saw the flash of Greg’s name, and put it down again.

“Well,” Krun cut in, “let’s get this game going, shall we? Good luck, everyone!”

The lobby faded away to reveal his character and WohnJick as the invaders. His grin went feral.

Nearamir was safe, from him anyway. It would be her welcome to the Afterlife present. Greg, however…

Oh, Greggles, where are yooouuu?

Lily

Two rounds later, Lily shook her head, cheeks hurting from smiling so hard as she guided the ghost of her character around the screen. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so hard or so often, and FruitBat, who also seemed to have a nerdy streak of his own, had the best jokes. They’d gotten into the habit of telling each other a stupid joke or one-liner every time they crossed paths.

Nine bees made their way to Mordor. It was the Fellowship of the Sting.

Did you hear that Godzilla destroyed a cheese factory? De-brie was everywhere.

What is Gandalf’s favorite band? The Eagles.

What’s the first thing a bat learns at school? The alpha-bat.

After he’d told that last one, she wondered if he had wings, and would have asked him if an emergency meeting hadn’t been called and immediately gone sideways.

All of the players were good, but none were better than Stabby. No one seemed to be able to tell when he was lying, he’d elevated social manipulation into an art form, and he knew the game inside and out. He’d killed her while she’d been feeding the weird space fish.

She’d been grumpy about it right up until FruitBat had found her body and began the trial with: “Who the fuck killed my nerd wife?!”

It had been the most romantic thing she’d ever heard.

Stabby had lied like a damn rug, gotten Buttercup exiled for it, and made everyone suspicious of Croaky. Now he was on the hunt again.

FruitBat stood at the cartoon hydroponics array, oblivious of the doom coming his way. Lily guided her ghost up and down the hallway, waiting for the inevitable. Barely pausing, Stabby killed FruitBat and darted into the nearest elevator, just in time for FruitBat’s ghost to appear in the middle of a rant.

“…knife happy, short , grumpy—”

“Hey, Batty.”

“Nerd wife!” His rumbling voice lit up, and she laughed, guiding her ghost over to his and making a little smooching noise.

“Nerd hubby. I told you he was the invader when he killed WohnJick.”

“Bastard. Did he kill you too?”

“Yeah, at the weird fish.”

“Double bastard. I need to finish doing the plant thing that I started before I was unjustly murdered.”

“I still have a task on the far side of the map.”

“Fair enough,” he said. “Hey, what do demons eat for breakfast?”

Lily hummed thoughtfully. “If the answer isn’t deviled eggs, I’m going to riot.”

“You’re good,” he said, the delight in his tone sending tingles down her spine.

She kissed at him again, quipping, “Only sometimes,” before zooming away, a fuzzy warmth spreading through her chest.

She liked this. This nerdy, faceless flirting.

An hour and one loss, one win, later, Lily said goodnight to her new friends and faceless, nameless acquaintances and closed the laptop.

It had been fun . The kind of carefree, guiltless fun she hadn’t ever really had. Time had always been a precious, finite resource to be carefully budgeted between work and basic needs. But now? Eternity stretched ahead. Peaceful, abundant, and…empty. She could, in theory, spend eternity just wandering, exploring the many realms, meeting countless souls and Afterlife denizens, perhaps even deities, though she doubted any of them would deign to talk to her. Money didn’t exist in the Afterlife. Goods didn’t have prices, people made, grew, and offered things because it made them happy to share them. She certainly would never have to worry about her health again, given the whole “dead” thing.

But she hated her silent chest, missed life and all its potential. She had dreams she’d never managed to achieve. Things she still wanted to do.

Thinking about reincarnation made her flinch, but perhaps it was like sex. Maybe she just wasn’t ready for either yet.

Time. She needed time, and, for once, she had it.

She pushed herself to her feet and stretched, padding towards the bedroom, where Max had already taken over one of the pillows. Though she didn’t need to anymore, she still enjoyed the familiar little ritual of brushing her teeth and washing her face before bed. She stripped naked and crawled into the pleasantly warm sheets, snuggling down with a contented sigh.

I hope the souls at the gate weren’t super weird today.