Page 4 of Incarnate

It just makes me more enraged. Why couldn’t it do something that makes this obvious that it’s a dream? I chew with an open mouth, tears burning in my eyes.

Why does it taste so real?

“It’s alright, everyone has at least one panic attack,” Margaret says casually and puts the mirror down.

“No… no.” I petulantly throw my fists down, the apple dropping. “No!”

The ground beneath me ripples, the stone cracking on either side. I gasp in fear, stepping away from the spot.

“What did you do?” Margaret asks as she stands abruptly, her voice sharpening.

“That couldn’t have been me.”

Margaret’s vermilion eyes home in on me as she nears, getting so close that she grabs my face with one hand, her touch warmer than any human’s. Her pupils are oval, not round. “Listen, Penelope. You died on Earth. You are now in the Underworld. It is not the end. I need you to focus. Can you calm down for me?”

“Calm down,” I pant, pulling myself out of her grip. The sudden reaction from Margaret actually grounds me, and Margaret steps back with a click of her heels.

“How did you do that?” Margaret reiterates, pointing to the cracks.

“Are you sure I did that? I didn’t mean to, if I did. I’m sure someone can fix it.”

“The issue is not the damage… No, I watched you. In your tantrum, you channeled an energy, and you did that.”

“Well… I don’t know,” I chastise, jutting my chin inward, raising an arm as I speak. “It’s the Underworld. You have apparent super strength. I am sure that is normal.” My emotional state oscillates fiercely between waiting desperately for me to pull out of this reverie and my perception of reality morphing into an uncomfortable acceptance. “And I can’t be dead!”

Margaret breathes carefully, as if re-centering. “You are very much dead, Penelope.” Margaret glances down, her intense eyes looking all over the place. “Oh, this is peculiar… no… yes, we may have to,” Margaret says and sits back down, moving her hand through the air as a thin black veil of smoke appears, along with a book.

“Hey, if you can do that, then surely it’s not too abnormal what I did?” I ask, watching very carefully.

“Only old souls have access to this Realm’s sorcery this quickly, and yours is only on its second reincarnation. It’s a part of what I said earlier about our physics being different. We can use sorcery and magic, but there are rules,” she says irritably and opens the plain leather book.

“What is that?”

“It’s called a Nefirium. It’s a book that covers all of the people here, past, present, and future, if we have their death confirmed. I am looking you up. I did already, but I must have missed something—right, here you are: Penelope Morris. You were fifty-five post-mortem, five foot four inches and a two hundred pounds, sudden severe adult acne on the back⁠—”

“Excuse me!” I interrupt, embarrassed.

“You’re not afflicted with that now,” Margaret scolds, running her finger down the words that describe me in uncomfortable detail. “Okay, down here, with the souls… Yes, right here, this is your second reincarnation and your first time in the Underworld. You should have absolutely no metaphysical manipulation in these Realms.”

My struggles entangle in a mental maelstrom, trying to envision the Penelope that she described. “Wait, what is my last name?”

“Morris.”

I scrunch my face. “That doesn’t sound right.”

“Then what is it?”

“My name is just, Penelope… I… I don’t know my last name,” I say, considering that. That can’t be right… People have last names. “Even Penelope sounds funny, but I know it’s not wrong. At least, it’s who I was.”

Margaret’s expression tightens. “You shouldn’t be having any identity remembrance issues with your name… I need to speak with another. It is probably minor, but it is integral we fix the kinks right away. I’m not getting dinged again.”

What else is there to do when she rises to her feet and heads toward a door? I wordlessly follow, getting swept away in the moment as if acceptance of this is second nature here.

Margaret clears her throat as she grabs the giant, iron handle to the door and turns to me. “What you are about to see is going to be different and unreal to you. It can be traumatizing to many. Too much mental trauma and a person can be sent to purgatory where we have to get a Quartus or Tertium involved to get you out. We were supposed to be in here for much longer, but this is pertinent. Now… just take everything in stride and remember this, no matter what, you are still alive… just not on Earth. We get in trouble if you go to purgatory, so don’t do it. Dominus Kallúm’s anger is to never be tempted, especially with the Godless testing him lately. So don’t ruin this for me.”

My fingers grip the rough fabric of the bag I wear. “Should I just wait somewhere, then?”

“No, we need to get this sorted at once. Because of the aforementioned issues, I’m not getting another mark this quarter, so let’s go.”