Purgatoria

Purgatoria

Dead in the Middle

by D. K. N. YUKO

COPYRIGHT 2016 DKN YUKO

PUBLISHED BY DRAGONFISH ENT/EBOOK PUBLISHING AT SMASHWORDS

The moral right of the author has been asserted. Graffitos and all other icons and characters associated with Purgatoria and the Dakaverse © 2001, 2009, 2016 (NoShell Lancaster, NoShell Hedges, NoShell Suite) as DK Rimmer, DKN Yuko, of Dragonfish Entertainment. All rights reserved. No portion of this book or the website may be reproduced or transmitted in any way, form, or fashion without written permission from the author. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. *parts of the Bible are quoted.

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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Neutrality is not Nothingness. Goddess Bless You, Dear Reader!

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE: LIGHT LIGHTNING

CHAPTER TWO: MIGHTY HARD REMEMBERING

CHAPTER THREE: LEARN, OR BURN

CHAPTER FOUR: NEUTRAL NOTHINGNESS

CHAPTER FIVE: WAILING FROM THE WHALE

CHAPTER SIX: ACCORDING TO THE ALIENS

CHAPTER SEVEN: POWER TO THE PUPPETS

CHAPTER EIGHT: THAT SEXY SUNLIGHT

CHAPTER NINE: RACKED WITH RECOGNITION

CHAPTER TEN: SOMEHOW ABOUT SELF

CHAPTER ELEVEN: STEW A BREW

CHAPTER TWELVE: CLEAR CONDOLENCES

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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CHAPTER ONE

LIGHT LIGHTNING

A massive stream of bumper-to-bumper traffic jammed a busy Hollywood highway one snowy night. After an hour and a half of 1 mph driving, the frustrated commuters met a terrible black SUV accident just across the guardrail. Flashing lights of many colors blazed across the cold sky, reminiscent of a wild party. Reporters and photographers were everywhere, swarming the area like flies on fresh feces. Paramedics bustled about with police as curious onlookers left their cars in the middle of the road. Star-struck, they stood around and snapped selfies, posting macabre images and status updates to their FunnyFriendly pages and ChitChat streams online.

The mangled SUV, rolled over on its driver’s side, had four battered bodies inside. After much hard work, the firefighters retrieved the two bodies from the front seats—a male and a female. The driver was a ridiculously short and stocky Italian man with a shaved head. He had obvious injuries to his neck and stomach. The passenger was a cute, tomboyish Latina, with injuries to the neck, arm, and head.

The two backseat bodies were a male and female as well. She was a thick, pale brown lady with short, striped purple braids in her hair. Her leg, hip, and neck were wounded. He was a brown male with long cornrows. His chest and back were badly hurt.

It’s superstar rapper MyKillaMan and some gang banging Dulcusos! someone blurted in the crowd. The horde pushed, shoved, and climbed upon each other for a better look at the unconscious victims.

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A funnel of bright, white light flashed across the asphalt, along with rattling thunder. A cloudy rainbow swirl emerged and vacuumed the souls of the injured out of their bodies. As they flailed and fought the force, their screams rang out for miles. No one heard, felt, or saw anything, except the pale, white figures happily headed in the opposite direction. A few more ghostly figures joined them on their vibrant journey up through Earth’s atmosphere, just as confused as they were.

After tumbling for what felt like ages through the void of outer space, they found themselves spiraling towards a pale blue planet. After crashing into it in the most frightening fashion, they all violently landed on a silver and gold-checkered floor in a cold room with white walls. The others scampered up and scuttled away, leaving the four accident victims there alone. Different people nonchalantly glanced down and stepped around them, hastily on their way elsewhere.

The physical damage from their accident was apparent. The driver had a huge, bloody slit on his neck and a steering wheel lodged in his stomach. The passenger’s neck was scarred and bleeding with glass shards scattered across her upper body. A huge piece of the windshield jutted from her arm. The woman from the back had deep, bloody scars all over her hips and lower neck. Her mangled right leg had a pencil lodged in it. The other man had a scarred, open chest and sliced back with a car ashtray stuck in his left knee. It did not matter much because most of the surrounding people had comical injuries of their own.

A loud voice over a PA system droned, "Miranda Hightower… The Black woman stood and brushed off her bloody clothing. Georgina Perez… The Latina hopped up fast, becoming aware of her surroundings. Frightened, she and Miranda tightly held each other. Mychael Cade… The Black man cowered on the floor, a shivering mess. Timothy Pietrvilla… The Italian hopped up and pounded his hand in his fist. How dare you call me last?! The voice ignored his idle threat and said, Please report."

Timothy glared at the silly people surrounding them. What in the hell is going on in here? he shouted. Thunder crashed in the distance as people flinched and rushed away. Where are we? Timmy doesn’t like this!

Finally getting up from the floor, Mychael looked around the area for some visual clues. We were just in SPACE! SPACE?! Did anyone notice that?! The group seemed uninterested. I tried to count, but, uh, we were in space, so… If I had to guess, I’d say we’re on Uranus now? The group was still uninterested, examining the passing people. What are you blathering on about, idiot?! Timothy screeched. Mychael approached him and touched his head. Uh, never mind… I don’t know, sir, but you got a fucked up—! Lightning flashed right in front of them with a mighty crack. They all jumped like startled goats. —uh, scar on your head! And, a steering wheel in your stomach, man!

Timothy tugged at the steering wheel lodged in his midsection. It would not budge, but he felt no pain messing with it, either. Miranda noticed Georgina’s glassy arm injury. She pushed her away. Baby, Miranda started, why do you have a large piece of glass wedged in your arm? I didn’t even feel that when you hugged me. Georgina looked down at her left arm and shook the glass. It was lodged in there, pretty solid. This place is bizarre, fool!

Georgina shoved a man walking past with a front house door stuck near his neck. He fell forward and propped up on the wooden door. He rocked back and forth, trying to get back on his feet. Eventually, he flipped over the door and landed on his back.

Laughing at the unfortunate man like a maniac, Georgina asked, "What the hell (THUNDER) is wrong with your legs, Randa?" Miranda shook her twisted leg and felt nothing. The women examined each other’s various wounds.

We lost them fools, man! Georgina screamed. That’s a pencil stuck in your leg? Somebody gonna pay for this!

The door man struggled to get up from his back, flailing about like a tipped turtle. Two young goth girls fell from the sky, crash landing on the checkered floor. One had a drug needle in her arm and a belt. The other, a huge bruise on her head. They hopped up and shot off running.

We gotta go! We gotta catch them fools, man! Georgina barked. Not them lil’ fools right there—you know who I’m talkin’ ‘bout! Nobody crosses Timmy Greed and the Dulcuso Family! She bent down to the door man and got in his flustered face. "You, cuz? You seen a burgundy drop-top lash blastin’ by with a group of goofy looking bastards (LIGHTNING) in it? They had a huge trash bag of money?"

Mychael helped the door man up from the floor. Angrily, he darted off. Girl, Mychael whimpered, "you can’t just go around shoving people up in here! We don’t even know who the fuck’s (LIGHTNING) turf we are on. A pale blue woman scowled at them. She pulled her matching child closer to her and covered his ears. Some freaky party going on here? Mychael grumbled. You know I don’t like these type freaky parties."

Vainly, Timothy straightened his head and swept his clothing straight. Miranda snatched a passing young woman with her upper and lower body cut apart and showed her off to the crew. Turf? she barked. "I think we’re pretty far beyond turf here! She poked at the woman’s lower body. What happened to you, baby girl? This must be a bad dream!"

I took a stupid chance running from my boyfriend’s wife, Young-half-woman replied. She caught us in bed—you know how it goes, and she chased me from the crib with a knife. I saw an oncoming train and thought I could shake her. I fell across the railroad track trying to jump it like a nut, and it smacked me good. I’m cool, though. If you believe any of those fancy books, I’m probably going to Hell after I leave here. Then again, none of them really mention Hell being in space, so I got a shot, right? She looked Miranda up and down. What are you in for? Looks like you’re pretty clean except for the pencil and the debris.

Georgina tilted her head and glowered at Young-half-woman. She shoved the upper half of her body. What? You talkin’ to my woman?! She reached around her back for a nonexistent weapon. "Bitch, (THUNDER) I mo’ smoke you! Young-half-woman ran away, with her upper body following. Where in the fuck (LIGHTNING) is my piece? Georgina yelled. I’ll get you later, muthafucka! Lightning struck right at her feet. She was startled but tried to play it off. Timothy patted around his chest. Where’s Timmy’s shit?" (LIGHTNING) "Yo, Killa? You got your shit (LIGHTNING) on you? Mychael felt around his waist and glanced at the growing crowd of strange people. Nervously, he paced. I can’t be without my joint! But, I don’t think that matters anymore." He dropped to his knees and wept. Timothy was furious.

Just as he was about to kick him, a professional man in a clean, white suit and white shoes floated up through a golden square on the floor. He carried a colossal, cumbersome book. He placed his hand on Mychael’s back. There is no need for weapons here, young brothers and sisters, he said. Startled, Mychael knocked his hand away. "Who the hell (THUNDER) are you? Mychael asked. Man, get your hand off my back! I ain’t no faggot!" (LIGHTNING)

Suspiciously, Miranda looked him over as she extended her hand. I’m sorry, sir. My name is—!

Miranda Hightower…, he interrupted. He reached out to shake her hand, but Georgina jealously knocked it away. I know who you all are. We’ve been watching you guys for a while.

Watching? Mychael groaned. "What kind of voyeuristic shit (LIGHTNING) is that?"

The man pointed at them. "Timothy Greed Pietrvilla, Georgina Jeepy Perez, and Mychael MyKillaMan Cade."

Well, Timothy wolfed, "who the fuck (LIGHTNING) are you?"

"More like where are we?" Georgina asked.

Miranda watched a group of small kids and cherubs running past, playing tag. We’re… Dead, aren’t we?

You’re in the waiting area right now, he guffawed. But, that’s an oversimplification. My name’s Peter, Pete, whatever. I’m the welcoming committee. Come with me? We’ve been calling you, you know? Peter floated away with the others slowly dragging behind him. Hey, would you guys like to do this together or apart; it doesn’t matter. Time is immaterial here.

"Do what? Mychael barked. Whose freaky set is this, anyway?"

This is the Man’s set, how about that? A heavenly chorus rang out. Show some respect young people, please? You guys are getting worse and worse out there. May have to pull the plug on this whole existence soon, sheesh.

They floated a while through the throng of people. Peter looked back and smiled at Mychael. I always like meeting a new Michael—way cool. He’s my best friend, you know?

"I don’t fucking (LIGHTNING) know you! Mychael shrieked. The crew was fully frightened when massive flames rolled from the ceiling. An massive burning angel soared down carrying an enormous sword and shield. He pointed his sword at Mychael’s throat. I’m not talking about YOU," Peter