Generalized confusion

Against all notions of death being the ultimate experience, Elbert gasped. He regained his senses, and he was breathing. This left him perplexed. The young man laid on a white blanket. His gaze was pointed upwards and he could see tree branches. Elbert's inner monologue found a reasonable explanation to his unexpected return to existence: This is hell.

Murmurs added another layer of sound to the symphony of the night. Elbert moved his head. He was surrounded by six people wearing robes, with hoodies concealing their faces. The crowd reacted to his movement.

"He's alive!"

"The summoning ritual succeeded!"

There was great joy among the monks. They hugged each other and shook hands. Elbert partially incorporated, he used to be laying down and he was now sitting on the blanket. He observed the outburst of happiness with a tinge of melancholy in his mind. I don't kow what they're celebrating, I just know I wish I was in the shoes of one of them.

Two monks approached Elbert. One of them ordered the young man around:

"Rise."

Elbert stood up out of politeness. He chuckled when he realized his interlocutor and his fellow monk were a whole two heads shorter than him. But he quickly regained composure so as not to be rude.

The silent monk extended his right arm towards Elbert and began to invade his personal space. The young man engaged in cognition: What is the deal with this guy? The monk touched Elbert's blazer for a split second, then swiftly jerked his arm back. He then whispered something to the bossy monk. Elbert was asked something:

"What magic spell made the coat you're wearing?"

Elbert replied:

"Oh, my blazer? I bought it in a store called Cincinnati. They have the most stylish clothes. Umm, right now we're in the middle of nowhere, but if you take me to London, I can show you the place. They also play the copyright-free music that slaps the hardest. I don't know how someone could make those bangers without monetizing them. They—"

"Enough. You use too many words too quickly."

Wow, these people are slowwww. So thought Elbert. The monk that interrupted him took a deep breath and resumed his interview.

"What is a "London", exactly?"

Elbert placed his right hand on his chin, trying to come up with a satisfactory answer. His mind wandered: Americans and the dumbest takes on geography. What a classic combo.

As if summoned by magic, a knight on a brown horse appeared. He donned aquamarine armor. He went down his horse. All the robed people genuflected. Elbert remained standing. The knight walked towards him. Elbert analyzed his physical characteristics and compared them to his own, mainly height, seeing as the knight was ten centimeters shorter than him, give or take. Elbert saw him offer up his right hand. He shook it. The grip of the knight was strong. Elbert fought the need to verbalize his pain with an expletive. Yet, once the handshake was over, he put his hands behind his back, so he could hide the fact he was hurting. The knight introduced himself:

"I'm Domenico Ramazotti Aldobrandini de LaVey Amundsen."

Elbert replied:

"I'm Elbert Rothenberg."

"Wait a second, please."

The knight rubbed the palms of his hands against one another, then interlinked his fingers. He nodded and announced to everyone there:

"He's being honest! His name is indeed Elbert Rothenberg!"

The monks clapped enthusiastically.

"We love you, master!"

One of them declared. The knight laughed and verbalized:

"Oh please, you're going to make me blush. You may rise now."

And the monks got up from their kneeling positions.

Elbert smiled and covered his mouth with his hands. This caught the attention of the jockey, who asked him:

"What are you laughing about?"

Elbert took the chance to spit his awful, terrible and unfunny joke.

"Take me to your king, Donald Trump."

The knight showed no reaction. He quickly corrected what he believed to be a mistake.

"The king of this land is the guanarteme, Aduén. I'm afraid there isn't any king called Donald Trump. At least, not in this realm."

"Alright"— Elbert manifested his point of view — "enough joking around. Judging by the vegetation, we must be somewhere in California. Take me to your rides before the morning dew makes me sick."

One monk spoke his mind:

"Why does he talk weird?"

The knight butted in to clear Elbert's misunderstanding.

"Elbert, you keep using toponyms that don't exist in this realm. It is of utmost importance that you listen to what I have to say. You're here because you died in your realm of origin and my servants summoned you into this universe. That means you will never be able to come back to the places that you know, so I suggest you bury them deep in your mind. That will be more adequate than trying and failing to explain to your peers what California is."

Elbert looked as if he had just seen a ghost. He placed his hands on Domenico's shoulderpads and spoke:

"Oi, oi, oi. Stop pulling my leg. What's this about being in a different universe? I thought I was unfunny, but this joke is in very poor taste."

Domenico repeated himself in a deadpan voice:

"You are in a different universe, and I am being serious. Incidentally, you strike me as an ingrate, not even bothering to thank your saviors. Were it not for us, you would be a corpse on the side of a ditch."

Elbert took his hand to his forehead, trying to process the situation he was in. He thought aloud:

"This is a nightmare. It must be. I'll wake up and it will be presentation day. Yes, that's right. All I have to worry about is how I'll spend my holidays and come September I'll be a third year student."

Domenico had no sympathy for mental breakdowns, so he slapped the college student, or rather, former college student, on the left cheek. He then said:

"It hurts, doesn't it? Do nightmares hurt? There you go, this is real life."

Elbert still hadn't snapped out of his mental rut, so he took the abuse without defying the knight. Domenico went to his horse and mounted it. A monk relayed information to Elbert:

"Walk. We'll take you to shelter."

The young man was part of the company only in presence. Thinking hurt him, so he left his mind empty. The monks and Domenico marched in silence owing to the air tainted by Elbert's madness. Dawn made its entrance when the company arrived at their destination. It was a town graced by the passage of a river. The houses were austere. A church with two towers caught Elbert's attention. He labeled the architecture of the church as quintessentially gothic.

The company stopped outside an unremarkable house. One of the monks took care of the knight's horse. Another one tapped Elbert in the shoulder so as to get him to stop admiring the church and he gestured towards the door. Elbert obeyed. Domenico knocked on the door. A man beckoned them:

"It's open. Come!"

The knight did as instructed. Elbert entered the house. He silently looked at the bug collection attached to the walls. Domenico tugged on his blazer so he would follow him. The young man did as instructed. Elbert then noticed the person who was sitting down with his back to them, writing a letter. He was an old man with short gray hair and a long gray beard. He was wearing a bathing gown that was green with yellow spots. He didn't stand up nor stop writing to greet his guests.

Domenico cleared his throat. The writer didn't give up on his task, but he took a gander at his guests and spoke:

"State your business."

Domenico answered his demand:

"Three days ago, you unveiled a spell that would be capable of bringing the deceased from another universe into our world. You promised to hand a sum of money to the first person who used the spell with success. I'm that person. And here"— he turned to Elbert and pointed at him — " is the living proof. Now, we are to complete the monetary transaction—"

"Feh! I have to run tests on the subject, you know! How else would I know if he is who you say he is?"

Domenico felt offended. He retorted:

"You dare doubt the word of a knight?!"

"Don't take it personally. I put as much stock in the word of a knight as I put in the word of a king, that is to say, none. The word has to make sense, I don't believe sophistry nor gibberish count as valid discourse."

Domenico defended his right to the prize money:

"Black Forest, you're the first person who can tell he's not from this universe. His vril is totally unlike the sixteen types found in God's green Earth. That should be enough proof!"

Black Forest, the old man, stood up from his seat and smiled in the face of the knight. He gave his reasoning:

"You just told on yourself. Since you're a vril sensor, you are precisely the type of person who could game the system. I have to make sure my spell worked before rewarding the researcher."

Domenico threw his arms up in the air.

"Fine! Do your tests! I know what I've done, he is from another plane of existence."

The creator of the spell pinched Elbert on the wrist, held his left arm and felt his biceps up. After this, he loudly proclaimed:

"The test I must perform is vivisection!"

Elbert looked the speaker in the eyes with a vacant stare.

The magician clarified:

"Just kidding!"

Domenico fell face first on the floor, utterly shocked at the levity with which Black Forest treated manners of life and death.

The old man stared at Elbert with pity. He directed his next sentence towards the knight:

"My jest was not that great, I must admit. I would have expected some sort of reaction from him, though."

The man in armor replied:

"Yeah, he's totally out of it for some reason."

Black Forest took a chair and told Elbert to sit. The young man meekly followed his instructions. Domenico leaned against a wall of the house. The wizard sat down and asked Elbert the following:

"What afflicts you, boy?"

Elbert sighed and looked into Black Forest's blue eyes. He then responded, looking down at the floor:

"My life has been upended in a matter of hours. There is no place for me in this world."