The smell hits me first. It's thick, iron and warm; it's mine.
I'm lying in a puddle of my own blood.
Everything is spinning around me. It's like the world can't decide whether to make me suffer more or completely fade away.
My vision's gone soft. Shapes blur, stretch and even warp.
Muffled voices echo in the distance.
Then–
Riiiiiing.
A piercing, ringing screams through my ears, shredding my skull. It's so loud, it drowns out everything.
Maybe those voices I heard were just passersby, people shocked by what happened. Maybe someone even tried calling for help. But it doesn't matter because it's...
Too late. I... I already know.. I know that it's too late, I can feel it.
Every breath I take... Every inhale feels.. it feels like I'm swallowing needles. My chest tightens with each breath I draw, lungs hitching and my muscles screaming at me.
I still don't know what the hell happened... What caused the accident. I was driving– just driving.
Then– boom. Something heavy dropped on my car. The weight brutal and unforgiving. The impact flattened everything.
It destroyed windows, the roof, the seat I was in– obliterated. Just.. Just gone.
I'm pinned here. The crushed roof pressing on my chest, my arms are numb and– I can't even move.
Shards of glass dig into my cheek. I can taste the blood. It mixes with the sweat running down my temple.
Enduring the pain... I try to move– to push myself out, but nothing. I'm stuck, trapped and blinded by pain.
My legs...
I try to move them, but I can't feel a thing.
No... No, no, no. Please, no..
I clench my fists tightly, preparing to face the... Truth.
Splaaat
A thick cough bursts out from my mouth and with it– blood, chunks, something... Slimy– oh, it's my intestines. A gag breaks free from my throat, I retch and choke on the horror of it.
I force myself to move. My neck screams, my body groans.
My vision clears.. Just enough to show me the truth.
I look at my legs... No, my legs aren't there. I've been cut in half.
It seems the roof... It wasn't just pressing; it sliced me.
A twisted metal edge lies nearby– drenched in blood.
Liters– liters of blood pump from the jagged opening of what's left of my body.
I stare at my severed lower half, lying just inches away, twisted at an angle no body should ever take.
Tears slide down my face. It's hot and it's silent and relentless, the type that you don't even realize you're crying until your vision swims with them.
Why? Why me?
What sin did I commit to deserve this? Why do I ever have to suffer like this?
With just a little more time, if I had just a few more... minutes, I'd be home. I'd have been with Marcelle. I'd have hugged my kids.
"Arrgh" I let out a groan, my chest spasming.
I clutch my locket tight. Inside– my wife's face, and my two beautiful children. I never go anywhere without it, it's my lucky charm and it always reminds me of home, It's my anchor.
My other hand, I still hold tightly the Orchid that I picked up for her, she loves Orchids. I was going to surprise her.
I was going to walk through the door, kiss her, hold her tight and–
I blink. Tears fall again.
It's Funny.
If I had known It'd end like this then I'd have kissed her a little longer. Told my kids I loved them. Tell them goodbye with a comforting smile like a man who knew.
My jaw clenches tight.
It's painful.
It's not the pain I'm enduring– trying stubbornly to hold onto my life, but it's the grief.
Marcelle.. Dustin.. Margie, I'm so sorry. Sorry I won't make it back. Sorry I won't be there for your birthdays. Or for Christmas. For your tears when you find out I never came home.
My eyes are half closed, my breath grows shallow, each one feels like dragging fire through shattered lungs.
But even as I feel my consciousness slowly fade. Even as my heart stutters...
I hold onto the locket tightly. And the flower.
The time I spent with you was too short, but it was beautiful and I loved every single moment of it.
And if... If there's a next life, I hope to spend it with...
And.. that was my death.
____________________
#"It's a boy! It's a boy!"# (# = ??)
That's... a voice?
Wait. Voices? Didn't I just die?
A shiver runs through me, it's... it's not from cold, but it's from... Confusion.
My thoughts are scattered, like tangled webs. The words I'm hearing– they sound human. They sound real.
But I died. I know I died. My body was torn in–
#"Praise be brought to Hubolt! He has blessed us with a male child!"#
The voices echo weirdly, muffled like they're being filtered.
But why is everything so dark? I can't see.
And the language is– no, it's not quite Mandarin, but it's something close.. and, I can't make out a single they're saying.
Is this... the after life?
But no matter how I try to put it, it doesn't sound right, the afterlife can't be a dark and gloomy place, and they can't be speaking a language so similar to Mandarin there.
I try to move my body, but...
Nothing. I can't move, it's like I have no arms or legs at all.
What is this? What's happening to me?
I gulp, panic begins to rise and cold sweat forms even though the darkness around me is warm. And... Something else is unsettling me... I'm being held. Cradled by something firm and rough.
Hands?
A sharp chord of fear strikes my chest. I want to scream, but I'm interrupted by the sudden voice–
#"Huh? But why isn't he crying?"#
#"You think we should slap him?"#
#"B–but, that'll be improper. He's the young master!"#
#"Children born of that blood don't cry. Not unless we slap them. Speaking of blood... let me see his eyes."#
Suddenly; fingers press against my eyelids. And for the first time... I see light.
Ah.
It floods into my eyes, warm and yellow, making me squint.
The first thing I see is a face. It's the face of an old woman. Wrinkled, pale, and worn from years. Her gaze is sharp but weary.
I turn my head; my neck moving slowly and sluggishly.
Four others. Young women... Maybe in their twenties.
The room they're in– dusty, the paint on the walls, peeling in place. The only source of patching light spilling in through the window, carved crudely into a stone frame on the wall and catching the old woman's silver hair.
A mattress lies on the floor. It's thin and barely large enough to fit one grown body.
This place. It's so... old, so alien. This is not the afterlife, no way.
I look at the old woman. Something about her isn't right, and... I didn't seem to notice it before.
She's... a giant? No. It can't be, no no no. But wait. Even the other girls are giants too? And... Come to think of it– she's been carrying me all this while.
I notice that the firm hands I felt around me was... Hers.
A strong lump of disgust lingers in my throat. I want to scream and tell at her to unhand me, but...
I can't talk? How. Why? Wait. Am I still dead? Is this a death vision? But why can't I say anything?
It feels like my vocal cords are working against me. The words won't flow, but something else comes escapes my throat after forcing it.
Wait. Was that me crying? No. That's not my voice.
#"Ah, finally!"#
#"Looks like we didn't have to slap him after all."#
#"Indeed. And he has their red eyes, he indeed carries their blood."#
Their words are like gibberish to me and I can't make sense of it so I ignore what they say. But...
Why do they dress like some kind of maids?
They're all dressed the same– long black gowns, white aprons, white caps pulling their hairs tight behind their heads. Apart from the old woman who isn't wearing a cap– they're all dressed the same way.
Something feels wrong. Really wrong.
I twist in the arms of the old woman to look down at myself. What I see makes my breath hitch.
This must be a bad joke.
Small arms, tiny legs. Soft wrinkled skin. I. Am. A. Baby!
Does this mean... I was reborn? Ha! That makes no sense.. How the hell is that possible... I'm a baby now? No wonder I couldn't talk or move my arms! What the hell is this?
My heart stirs with anger, grief and sorrow at the same time as I realize my despair.
I can't live like this, no, I can't live a life without Marcelle. I won't!
As I force myself to scream out loud– another cry, this time louder, erupts in the room.
#"The baby is crying again, I wish lady Alicia didn't die and lived to see her son."#
#"Truly, it's very unfortunate, tsk tsk"#
The women are still talking to each other as I silently watch them.
A wave of ideas splashes over me. It's simple, I can't do this. I'd either kill myself or run away from here to find Marcelle.
Yes, it doesn't matter if I'm still a baby or if I've been reborn, I'd find Marcelle and my children.
The old woman smiles down at me and I can see it– pity. Deeply embedded in her eyes. Maybe she sees the pain in my eyes... Maybe not.
She dips a rag in water and gently begins to clean the blood and feces from my body.