Cheating Death: Grim Reaper Short Stories, Book 3 (Unabridged‪)‬

Outside the tent was damp and cold and moist and like nothing Kayla had ever seen. Almost immediately, she wanted to return into the tent. Supria was already swiftly ahead. Here was like nowhere she had ever seen before. The sky was an eerie purple and orange, there were lighting strikes without thunderbolts. Sequoias characterized the landscapes and then the people. 

The people wore cloaks - filthy cloaks, Kayla realized what Supria had meant by blend in. Some were bent, and some just had hunched backs, some were like her, some like Supria, everyone minding their own business. Some sluggishly trudging through the moist ground - Kayla did fear that at some point she might encounter sinking sand that contributed to her sluggishness while others were running mostly. Furtive glances were cast at Kayla and knowing glances at Supria at intervals, and Kayla began to get nervous. 

The farther Supria went, the darker it got. Here wasn't like anything she had ever heard back on earth. It just simply didn't exist in her mother’s church stories about the afterlife, nor in her grandmother's voodoo stories. 

“Supria?” Kayla finally called out after flirting with the idea that Supria wasn't telling the complete truth. Supria ignored and kept walking ahead. Something was completely wrong. She could feel it in her gut. Kayla stopped in her tracks and called out to her again. This time, Supria stopped and without turning back asked what was wrong. 

“Where are you taking me?” 

“To get the keys.” 

“That's funny. We are the only ones treading this path. Everyone else here should be looking for their keys too, aren't they? Why are we the only ones going into the dark if this is where the key is?” Kayla asked, narrowing her eyes at Supria, who still had her back turned to Kayla. When Supria refused to speak, Kayla sensing danger began to walk backward, away from Supria. 

“Stop moving.” Supria called out, still not turning to look at Kayla. Her body had begun to change, undergo a strange kind of metamorphosis, but she was calm as she did, even graceful - like a caterpillar turning into a butterfly. No pain, no discomfort.