Dheny sat on the hard wooden chair across from the desk, the surface of which was piled high with documents bound in weathered red folders. The clerk, who introduced himself as Remer, leaned back lazily in his squeaky office chair, giving Dheny a long, unimpressed look before tossing a folder in his direction.
"Here is how it works, champ," Remer began, his tone dripping with feigned cheerfulness. He gestured at the folder, which lay in front of Dheny like a ticking bomb. "In life, you rack up karma - some good, some bad, some neutral. Your account, though? It's a disaster."
Dheny hesitated, his fingers hovering over the folder. Something about it felt alive, as if it might bite him the moment he opened it.
"Go on," Remer said, smirking. "It won't kill you. You are already dead."
With a dry swallow, Dheny flipped open the folder. The first thing he noticed was a photo: the hollow eyes of a man stared back at him from a mugshot. His name was scrawled underneath in uneven handwriting - Jonas Elroy. The details beneath the photo were painfully familiar: a loan Dheny had refused to extend to Jonas's small business when he worked as a loan officer. Jonas had begged him, explaining it would ruin his family, but Dheny had been more interested in meeting his department's quota than helping.
Dheny quickly turned the page. Another face appeared is a woman this time. He couldn't remember her name, but the accusation in her eyes was unmistakable. She had been one of many tenants evicted under his management, a number on a spreadsheet. The file noted the eviction had taken place in December, during one of the coldest winters on record.
His stomach churned as he flipped through more pages. There were so many faces, so many stories, and each one brought memories rushing back, memories he had long buried beneath rationalizations and justifications.
"These people..." Dheny muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "They're all here?"
"Oh, no," Remer replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Most of them have moved on. But the ones who haven't? Let's just say they've been waiting for you."
Dheny's hand trembled as he reached for another photo, but Remer snapped the folder shut, making him flinch.
"You'll work off your debt," Remer continued, his tone now clipped and businesslike. "Your job is simple: complete tasks for these spirits. They want closure, revenge, or just someone to hear their side of the story. You help them, and your balance gets closer to zero. You fail..." He paused and gestured vaguely toward the ceiling.
Dheny followed his gaze and froze. High above them, the flickering lights gave way to a shifting void. The faint sound of screams and whispers echoed from the darkness, and Dheny's breath quickened as he realized what it was.
"Is that... hell?"
Remer laughed, the sound sharp and unpleasant. "Hell? Heaven? Those are just words. Call it the next step. Call it worse than here. Either way, it iss not where you want to end up."
"So, what is the first task?" Dheny asked, his voice shaking.
Remer reached under his desk, pulling out another folder thinner, but somehow more foreboding than the last. He slid it across the desk, his smirk growing wider.
"Let's see how you do with a haunting. Don't worry they are usually not that bad. Unless you make them angry, of course."
Dheny's heart sank as he opened the folder. Another face stared back at him, hollow-eyed and accusing. It was a woman, her name printed neatly below the photo: Margaret Fielding.
Remer leaned forward, tapping the photo with one skeletal finger. "She says you ruined her life. Now you get to clean up the mess."