Soon I'll be reborn as a vampire. But right now, needless to say, I'm dead. My lifeless body lies on the bed in the master bedroom of my apartment, in the Los Altos neighborhood. And where am I now? Where do I find myself after leaving the flesh that used to wrap my soul? Well, of course, I'm in the other world. A part of the Afterlife that's a desert, and in this desert, there are many other souls. They're sitting on the sand, legs bent, elbows resting on their knees. The sky above this place is leaden and ominous. Everything here is sad. It's like being inside the heart of melancholy.
I'm standing, pacing back and forth, filled with curiosity. The souls around me (the ones I'm looking at) have faces marked by a kind of disappointment I've never seen before, as if they were battling the ultimate depression, the bitterest kind of all. None of them speak. They don't look at each other. They just sit there, waiting in silence. All of them look worn down. They're wrecks. Their bodies look like they've been through one of the cruelest concentration camps ever to exist on Earth, where dying from starvation was just part of the daily routine.
"That's where the souls go before they return to the world," Agnes told me. "All of them are mentally crushed because they know that once they run out of lives, there's nothing left but Hell. Of course, when they leave that waiting room (that gloomy, lead-colored desert) and return to the world in a new body, they forget all about Hell and eternal punishment. And then they live the classic human life: shallow distractions, senseless ambition, a fair amount of loneliness, lots of uncertainty and contradictions, no control, a whole bunch of illusions, and the constant search for refuge in religion or politics. The usual. I already told you."
"What if I die and don't go to that desert, and instead they just send me straight to Hell?"
"You can't go to Hell. That's not possible. You're going to be reborn as a creature of the dark. You're one of the chosen ones. No need to worry about Hell."
"And what happens if I die while being a vampire?"
"If you die as a vampire, you don't go to Hell either. In fact, that's your case. You died as Edmundo and you were supposed to return as a human no matter what, so I went looking for you. If you die as a vampire, you always come back as a human. Now, if you die as a human after having been a vampire then things change. You don't go straight to the desert anymore, you go to the antechamber. And then you might end up in Hell. The only time you go straight to the desert is either when you die in order to become a vampire, or when you die as a vampire and come back as a human."
"There's an antechamber?"
"Yes. There is."
"And what happens there?"
"Well, some souls realize that their time is up, that they'll never get another moment of peace, ever again, and that they're headed straight to Hell. Other souls, though, find out that it's not their turn yet. That they get to avoid the inevitable for a little while longer. Because even if they don't want to hear it, they understand there's no escape. One way or another, sooner or later, they'll end up in Hell."
"And who gives them the news?"
"No one. You just die, and when you get to that place, you know. The antechamber is like a vast, dark cavern with two exits. You arrive, and right after dying, you already know which one you're supposed to take. One leads to the desert. The other leads to endless pain."
"What if you refuse to go to Hell? What if you try to fight it?"
"You can't. Souls have no control there."
"How do you know all this?"
"I've been to that cavern. Not when you turned me; back then I only visited the desert. It was later. After becoming a vampire. You took me there. You showed me that cavern and also the gates of Hell."
"I had more power than you?"
"Way more. You had more power than anyone. And you were going to keep growing stronger. No one knew how far that would go."
"Is that why they killed me?"
"Yes. But there's no need for me to tell you that story. You'll remember it when you become what you're meant to be."
"A vampire?"
"Not just a vampire. That's only the first step."
"I don't get it."
"You will. It'll take time. But you'll understand."
I try talking to one of the souls scattered across the sand of that desert, but they all ignore me. No one turns their head to look. They're all caught up in their own stuff, almost like they're catatonic. I don't exist to them. It's like they can't even look outward. I see their faces, and the expressions they wear are like those of someone staring at something terrible and soul-crushing just inches from their eyes. But, of course, there's nothing out there. Just other souls, wearing the same languid look of devastating defeat. It's clear now: the horror isn't outside. It's all happening inside their heads.
Suddenly, two of the souls stand up, moving like they couldn't care less. And just before disappearing, they raise their arms and lift their faces to the sky with the same lack of energy they used to get up.
Agnes explained this to me:
"If you see that happening, it means the wait is over for that soul. They vanish because a body is ready for them."
"Will that happen to me too? Will I raise my arms and look up like that?"
"No. You don't do what the rest of those nobodies do. You're one of the chosen ones. You get a different process. You'll just feel your eyes getting heavy, and when you close them, you'll open them again already back in the world."
And sure enough, not long after I watch those two souls vanish, it happens. My eyes grow heavy. I close them. And when I open them again, I'm alive.