The Last Interview.

I was dead.

In life, death to me was unusual. All that speculation about what comes next. Waiting in the metaphorical lift and waiting to see if you get the 'Up' or the 'Down' arrow.

But being dead was simple. The question of "What comes next?" was answered. It came in the shape of a boat, and a tall, hooded Figure poling it across a flat, mirror like expanse of water. I raised my hand in welcome as the boat glided towards me. It took me a moment to realise that the ripples in the water died almost as quickly as I had done.

It came to a serene stop next to me. The tall Figure lowered their pole into the boat and turned, reaching inside its robe, withdrawing a scroll and a Victorian style pen.

I was dead, so really had no reason to feel fear. But I remember feeling distinctly awkward. I waited for a moment, wondering if I was supposed to take the pen and scroll. Was this what happened when you died; a questionnaire?

The Figure spoke then. "How did you die?" I blinked.

"I'm sorry?"

Though tall, imposing and hooded, the Figure gave off an aura of "Oh great... Another one of these."

"How. Did. You. Die?"

"Uh... Got hit." If it could breath at all, I knew then the Figure would have given a heavy sigh of impatience. "B-by a sports buggy. Y-y'know, one of those extreme sports ones? Usually has sponsor logos and things all spattered over it?" A thought struck me and I looked over my shoulder, only to be met with a sense of disappointment. As it turns out, that branded buggy hadn't given me wings.

The figure stabbed a full-stop onto the scroll. "Major regrets and wrongdoings?"

I blinked again. Regrets? Wrongdoings? Did I have any? Traversing the veil from life to death seemed to distance oneself from their regrets. They were for the living. "I'm not sure. None that spring to mind. I mean-" I thought for a moment. "- I've never really harmed anyone. I like to think I was a good person. I'm-" I looked up into the Figure's hood "-rather boring I'm afraid."

"Boring is good. It keeps things simple." The Figure scribbled again on the scroll. "Just know that if you lie to me, you answer to the Waters."

"The water?"

"The Waters." The figure gestured at his feet with the scroll. "They know. And don't take kindly to deceivers." I nodded.

"Are you ready?"

"Am I ready fo-?" The figure stepped back and gestured towards a seat in the boat. "Oh."

I stepped onboard. Immediately, silently, the boat began to move.

The figure turned and faced the open water, holding my scroll above their head. For a long while, we sailed in total silence.

From the darkness, a bone-chilling, vile hiss.

"DECIEVER!"

Coldness. Choking. A sense of falling with waterlike tendrils clawing at my eyes and mouth.

I shouldn't have lied.