The summoned

Death felt strange, not at all like he expected. He didn’t feel cold nor hot. He felt lonely but could see heads all around him, all marching solemnly towards a distant light. They dragged him with them and no matter how much he struggled he couldn’t go against the current of people. The ones closest to him stared into his eyes with blank expressions but each time he looked into their eyes he felt a bit of his soul being stripped from him.

Eyes filled with grief, sadness and fear. They were all crying, looking for comfort in the only one who seemed to move freely by himself; Samuel. But he didn’t offer any, he quickly averted his gaze from their eyes each time he crossed them. Instead, as the distant light grew closer, he began to push past the marching souls trying to go in the opposite direction.

He tried opening his mouth to scream but he didn’t have a mouth. Only groans and gutural attempts of speech came out. Then, as the orange light loomed over, all souls around him began to utter the same noise, terrified screeches silenced by their closed mouths. He took a good look around; nobody had lips like himself.

There was a different sound echoing over the silent cries. Two voices speaking in what can only be described as terror. He stopped struggling against the current and turned to look at them. Two gigantic beings, of a scale he couldn’t comprehend. They stood in front of an arch of black stone and behind them he could see an infinite sea of red and orange fire.

They were really similar. Both of them looked androgynous and beautiful in their own right. The one to the right had purple skin, the one to the left, white and black. Both had long silky hair, the purple skin’s was white and the other black, faces of soft and elegant features and piercing eyes, the right one had yellow eyes, the other’s were of an intense and vibrant red.

Their beauty equaled their brutality. Those piercing eyes that would make anyone blush were filled with malice and sick enjoyment. Their terrible laughs deafened every sound around him. His arms and legs doubled their effort to push the people around him.

He felt a sudden rush of hot, burning air run past his face. As he, slowly and shakily, looked towards what caused it; he felt the terrifying sound those beautiful creatures emitted. Laughter. They were laughing. A dark and haunting laughter.

Then the rush of hot air went past him, back to the gate. He saw it then, a giant pitchfork with hundreds upon hundreds of wailing things on each tooth. As their size, the amount of souls on them was unfathomable.

As Samuel got close enough to feel his skin begin to melt and the light from behind the door wrapped all shadows, he felt a sudden tug at his neck. He saw the sea of souls getting larger and larger, growing further and further. He felt one of those tridents miss his body by inches and an even more terrifying sound from the things guarding the gate. A scream of anger, of frustration. Then it all faded to black.

An instant later he felt normal again. A cold breeze washed over his body and his memories of the event felt like an almost forgotten nightmare. The smell of fresh pastries reached his nose. Slowly, he felt all of his senses wake up.

“... his class?” asked what he thought was a woman. She seemed impatient.

“W-well, I have good news and bad news Lady Shoda,” replied who he thought was a teenager. His voice reminded him of a kid his classmates used to bully; weak, timid and scared.

“Spit it out then,” by that point Samuel could barely open his eyes. He found himself in a small room, surrounded by three people. To his right he saw a gorgeous redhead wearing a fancy vest and long skirt and, judging by the annoyed expression on her face; Lady Shoda. To his left he a purple toothpick of a man. He was wearing what Samuel could only interpret as a dirty purple nightgown and an impotent wizard hat. To make his frame look even weaker, another man stood behind him. He was of Arab descent, well dressed, with a fine and elegant suit.

“Ah, you see. He isn’t a fighter like you wanted, he is a healer. H-however his subclass is quite rare. Th-there are only about 3 or 4 Medus in the city. S-so-” the thin man slowly retreated, cornering himself next to Sam’s face. The redhead moved in, stepping closer and closer towards him. Watching her face, he understood his reaction.

“I knew it! I shouldn’t have come! I gave you every little piece I had and you come to me with that- that bullshit! How!? Every other fucking summi can choose what they are summoning!” The only thing he could see from his position was the redhead next to him, violently shaking something (most likely the thin man’s neck), the tall wide man laughing uncontrollably and he could hear the poor smaller man whimpering and asking for forgiveness.

“The fuck happened to me?” Samuel asked out loud, finally feeling his mouth move again and silencing everyone in the room. A second later, he suddenly sat up, struggling for air. He felt light.

His hands moved across his body, feeling it. One, of course, went to his forehead. There was no bullet wound. The other to his knee which no longer hurt. In fact, all of his chronic pain was gone.

“W-wait, wait a second… How are you awake?” Samuel jumped on top of the bed and threw a kick in the direction of the voice but found himself pinned against a wall by the tall man. He could clearly see his face and his long brown beard. His arm pressed his chest and the other held one of his. Despite that, he looked calm.

“I understand your confusion, but please don’t try to kick Lady Shoda again,” slowly, he released him.

“Who are you? Where am I?” Sam asked, retreating to the corner like a wounded animal as soon as he was released.

“Ah, shit. You couldn’t even keep him asleep for long. Way to go, Salazar.” Lady Shoda sighed and walked around the small bed, standing behind the wide man.

“I swear it isn’t my fault! His soul was- Eeck!” Lady Shoda turned her head and glared at Salazar, shutting him up.

“This is normally done in a more welcoming place. My name is Azim Baksh, at your service”, he bowed, “The man over there is Salazar Marquez, the one who brought you to this place. And she is Lady Shoda Chiyo, your patron going forward.” Azim politely pointed at each of them respectively.

“So that one drugged and kidnapped me and that one bought me from him?” He lifted his arms even more.

“Useless and stupid, what a combo. No, you were saved by the idiot. You would be dead right now but he took your soul from purgatory and brought it here. I paid for that so now you are mine. Is that easier to understand?” peeking from behind Azim, Chiyo explained in a tired and annoyed tone. Sam looked even more puzzled than before.

“That sounds like slavery…” he sighed, thinking that he would deal with that later.

“And here is?” He asked. Chiyo rolled her eyes and pushed a window open.

Samuel leaned on the window’s frame, staring out into the strange city. His eyes were drawn to the colossal escalated pyramid in the distance. White, pristine and immaculate in its presentation. It had three layers, each massive in scale. From where he stood to its base he saw a sea of buildings of different heights and sizes. Then he noticed one thing that he missed before, on every level of the pyramid there was a wall and behind it buildings.

He had noticed it before, but just only after he scanned every layer of the pyramid did he focus on the purple rift above the pointy top. The borders looked like millions of threads waving in the air and inside it he saw millions of stars. It contrasted weirdly against the morning sky surrounding it.

“The best city in all of existence, Dosumn!” Chiyo stated proudly