Purgaverse

 Purgaverse by Avelino de Castro

Morgan’s strange dream returned, after an absence of over two years or so. In his dream his hair stood on end, his bowels clenched, and his head went dizzy. 

It was so stupid. All he did was walk up to a crazy castle. It was just a building that looked like a cross between the Louvre, and Dracula’s castle. Everything about it screamed “Danger!” 

In his dream he walked up to a huge wooden door. It swung slowly open, and he woke before he could cross the threshold. He felt a surge of energy from the tips of his toes, through his crotch, and up to his scalp and fingertips, then he would wake up.

Morgan had been afflicted by this strange dream for as long as he could remember. Could be worse. He could have recurring dreams of fighting on a battlefield, or dreams of murder and mayhem in the middle-ages. He could have dreamed of assassins chasing him through the streets of a charming Parisian suburb. Instead, he dreamt of…a building.

Morgan never remembered his dreams. Except the dream of the atrocious edifice. The dream that had chased him through his life.

Morgan was sixty-eight years old, fit, and trim, and rather good looking for his age, with few wrinkles, and a taut well-maintained body.

One morning in September he woke from the dream, and felt a tingling in his feet and hands. He went down to breakfast and found his faithful, loving wife Maude, preparing fried eggs, streaky bacon, and pumpernickel toast.

He smiled. He loved his wife. No other woman could compare. He kissed her on the cheek, and she jumped, “Don’t you go sneaking up on me like that Morgan. I’m trying to cook for heaven’s sake. I could get grease splattered on my hands and arms, and get a third-degree burn. You should know better you lunkhead.”

`Morgan shuffled away from his darling Maude, grinned, and said, “Well now. We certainly wouldn’t want that. I just love you so much I can’t resist kissing you.”

     Maude giggled, “We’re not going to have any fun in the bedroom if both my hands are plastered over.”

Morgan chuckled, “I’m sure we could manage.”

Maude gestured to the kitchen table, “This just come in the mail for you, it’s from a corporation called Purgaverse Corporation. They want you for management. You should go to the interview. It’s at noon, just call Jenine, and let her take over for the day. You’re always going on about how valuable she is to the operation. She can handle the lunch rush. And you should give her a raise.”

Morgan frowned, “I suppose you’re right dear. But about the raise. I don’t know.”

“Dammit Morgan! If she can run the place on her own she deserves a raise.”

Morgan sighed, “Yes. Jenine is a good employee. She deserves a raise.”

Morgan perused the slim brochure from Pergaverse. There were senior management level opportunities at this company. Opportunities to soar to six figure levels.

He was mired in a high stress business. Morgan was lucky to clear sixty-thousand a year. He was hanging on until he hit the new retirement age of seventy-two. He owned and operated a Slick Chicken franchise. Worrying if Federio got home to his wife Clarenca, on time to help with their twin infants. 

He had to worry about elderly Marjorine, and her enormous rump. She was forever knocking things over, in the tiny kitchen, whenever she turned around. He couldn’t fire her, because morbid obesity had become a legitimate disability. He just had to follow her around, picking up straws, napkins, salt shakers, spilled beverages, and chicken sandwiches. 

Marjorine even had a habit of knocking filled, bagged orders off the counter with her enormous ass, whenever she turned, to key in the payment information. 

Morgan was relieved Marjorine only worked two four-hour shifts. Any more of her fumbling, and bumbling would put him out of business.

      Morgan scoffed his breakfast. Maude said, “You know, meals are supposed to be elegant, conversational affairs.”

      Morgan chirped, “I’m sorry Maude, for trying to get to my appointment on time, to make a better life for us both, I have to get to Purgaverse. Get a good management position. Sell that infernal franchise.”

      Maude sipped her tea, and nibbled a piece of bacon. She giggled, “I haven’t seen you this excited since the last Olympics.”

Morgan leapt from his seat, donned his overcoat, kissed Maude square on the cheek, rushed out of the kitchen, and slid out the front door. He knew it was best to let Maude have the last word whenever they parted.

      Morgan took the employment information for Purgaverse. He called Jenine, his associate manager on his cell phone as he made his way to the Purgaverse Headquarters in the Boltonwide neighborhood. A neighborhood of mixed industrial and commercial properties.

      Morgan phoned Jenine while waiting on the train platform, “Look hon, I’m not going to be able to get in until after the lunch rush. Hold down the fort would you, Jenine?”

Jenine replied, “I got it boss. Do what you gotta’ do.”

“And Jenine…make sure Millie Johnson, and Devon Vieira don’t get all frisky in the walk-in cooler.”

      Jenine laughed, “I’ll keep an eye on the lovebirds too. Don’t worry boss. I’ll take care of things.”

Morgan mused, ‘Jenine really deserves a raise.’ He smiled as the train pulled up, and he though how pleased Jenine would be when he got in, and told her she was getting a raise.

      Morgan boarded the train, and as it rattled deep into the city, he perused the Purgaverse recruitment letter he had received. It was pretty sparse on details, in terms of the responsibilities it wanted in a Vice President of Personnel. But it was very clear about the salary, one-hundred-thirty thousand dollars a year, stock options, a retirement plan. And they had selected him.

      When the train pulled into Boltonwide Station, Morgan hopped off the train, went up the long stairway to the surface, and emerged on Fellsbree Street. He walked the six blocks to the corner of Fellsbree Street and Boltonwide Avenue. Purgaverse was at 1243 Boltonwide Avenue.

      When Morgan reached the Purgaverse Headquarters, his blood pressure spiked, his head swum, and his belly curdled. It was the building from his recurring dream. 

Every detail was the same. It was a tall, stone building, at least thirty stories high, with a huge wooden door that looked like it belonged on a castle. The windows were really just rectangular slits in the stone walls. The kind of thing you’d find in a medieval castle. Slits for archers to pick off invading enemies, and stay safely protected by the high castle walls.

      The building featured menacing gargoyles, a high peaked green roof like the Louvre in Paris. There was a creepy, thin grey fog surrounding the building, just as there was in his dreams.

      Morgan knew he was awake. Chills ran up his back, and his fingers and toes went numb. Morgan just knew he was awake, but he decided to make sure. 

He pinched his right forearm with the thumb, and forefinger, of his left hand. He dug his nails in, and drew blood. He yelped, “Ouch!” He was awake all right.

      Morgan slowly strode up to the giant oaken front door of Purgaverse Incorporated. He passed through a dense layer of fog that clung to the ground around the castle. He moved slowly. His curiosity over-ruled his terror. 

He’d been trying to get into that building in his dreams for as long as he could remember. Now he was going to cross the threshold in real life. Morgan didn’t really believe in the supernatural until right now. 

He reached the enormous door, and found a long chain hanging from a crevice in the wall. At the end of the chain was a wooden fist, as big as a man’s hand. 

Morgan yanked on the fist, and a loud melodic trilling of a thousand birds sounded. Then the door slowly started to rise. Morgan’s senses sharpened. He felt the adrenaline course through his body. He was finally going to see inside his troubling recurring dream.

      When the door had risen, an archway was revealed. Odd thing, in Morgan’s mind was that the interior of the building appeared to be brightly illuminated by…fluorescent blue light. He expected candle light, but hey, so be it. 

A man stood in the doorway dressed like a doorman. He had black boots, a crimson jacket, with gold buttons, and a peaked crimson hat. He doffed his cap at Morgan and introduced himself, “I am Festerman Doubloon.”

      Morgan barely took in the name when he noticed the man had a huge hole in the side of his head, bloody, and filled with gore, and brain matter.

      Festerman Doubloon noticed Morgan’s reaction to his weeping headwound, “No worries Morgan. My wife shot me in the head as I was copulating with her sister. Welcome to in-between follow me to Purgaverse.”

      Morgan didn’t know what to think. This man should be dead, and decomposing, but he seemed perfectly hale and capable. Morgan considered pinching himself again, but thought better of it.  This wasn’t a dream, at least it wasn’t his recurring dream. 

Morgan knew this was real because he was able to follow Festerman Doubloon into the enormous edifice. He’d dreamt of this building probably hundreds of times, but had never been inside. He crossed the threshold with enthusiasm, and bubbling nervous energy.

      What he saw inside shocked him to the core. It was a forest that stretched to a distant horizon. Morgan peered up at the ceiling to find there was no ceiling. There was a sky, partly cloudy, with sunshine powering through the clouds here and there. The trees bore large round globes that emitted a blue fluorescent light. Morgan’s jaw dropped when he saw a bunny run across the long grey marble path that led from the door into the forest.

      Festerman turned to Morgan, and showed his unsettling face to the Chicken purveyor, and Morgan showed him an expression of mixed wonder, and worry.

      Morgan asked, “What is this?”

      The man with the blown-out head laughed out loud, “Ha ho he…we’ve been waiting for you quite some time.”

      Morgan revealed, “I’ve been dreaming of the outside of this building my whole life. But…I could never get inside.”

      Festerman smiled, “You have a special destiny, Morgan. We need you to man the scales, and weigh the souls of the residents of Purgatory.”

      Morgan gasped, “Am I dead? Is this hell?”

      Festerman shrugged, “Heavens no. It was called Purgatory in the old days. Until the Supreme Being privatized the operation of Purgatory. Now it’s run by a corporation called Purgaverse.

      “The higher ups have been watching you for a long time. It has been determined you are the most neutral person on the planet. Therefore, you are most fit to judge incoming souls.”

      Morgan chuckled, “My wife Maude always said I was bland, and grey. I can’t wait to tell her about this.”

      A man stepped out from behind a massive leafy oak tree. He wore a white suit, and carried a clipboard. Festerman introduced Morgan to him, “Morgan, this is the CEO of Purgaverse, Tanner Psychonaut.”

      Morgan reached out a hand to the man, and they shook. The CEO said, “I’ve waited so long to meet you. You finally got up the courage to cross the threshold, and come into our little kingdom. They job’s yours if you want it.”

      Morgan asked, tentatively, “Will I be home in time for supper every night?”

      Tanner Psychonaut said, “As you wish. Follow me, there’s paperwork to fill in. You’ll start your training tomorrow.”

      Morgan beamed, “Maude’s never going to believe I got the job!”