The black surrounded Jason like a blanket of velvet. Though he could feel nothing, see nothing, his consciousness stayed much the same as when he was alive. He sensed every twist and turn, even if he couldn't see or feel it. The sensation made him dizzy.
Time meant nothing as he drifted in the nothingness. Every once in a while, either by trick of his mind or something else, he saw small gray shimmers within his peaceful drift. He couldn't tell if it were hours, days or years that he drifted. He tried to focus on his partner Michael, to try to understand how he could kill him in cold blood, after all they had been through. But the more he focused on the thought, the less he really cared. He was dead now, who really cared about the reason?"
'That's the answer I want.' Jason heard the haughty voice floating around with him. It was so loud, it felt all encompassing, yet it was gone within an instant. He wondered if he truly heard it, or if it were just a trick of the darkness. Though, he did feel that things were starting to look more gray than black. He could see yet again, yet he couldn't understand what he was seeing. Within the gray, slow moving flames licked where he would have believed his body was, yet he didn't feel anything but comfort. It was like the flames were there to burn any of his unwanted memories away, to wash him clean of his life. He realized with a start that he was slowly forgetting who he was. He frantically grabbed at his most sacred memories. He held on tightly to his training, war tactics and espionage. He didn't know when he was going to be expelled from this gray area, but he didn't want to be nothing when he did. If he did.
As he held onto the core of his being, at least all that he wished to, he let the gray nothingness burn away all the aches and pains of his past. He allowed his addictions to fade away.
Before he could lose much else, his existence went from gray to something else. The flames lost their dull luster and instead took on a pale yellow. 'I think you should be just about ready.' the voice said within the sea of flames.
The yellow flame deepened in color until red, and the current picked up. He felt as if he were within a funnel, going round within the sea of burning flames. As the speed picked up, he felt sensations. He felt warm, yet not the warmth he would have felt were he in an actual burning sea, but a warmth of a body laid out in the sun.
"Good boy." The voice cooed. "Try moving around."
He didn't quite understand the voice. He did however know that the flames were gone now. He no longer saw red, instead, everything was black.
Something was different with this darkness. It felt familiar, as if he had experienced the sensation before. A red glow pierced the darkness before him and the sensation now had a word to put to it. 'Eyes.' He thought as he tried opening his lids, finally realizing he had a body again.
He let his lids crack slowly open, but the light was much brighter than he thought it would be and it took many blinks before his eyes could remain open. Even then, all he saw was a blurry patch of green underneath and a gray light above and a red blotch right in front of him. By the way the blotch moved, he could tell it was living, yet he couldn't make out exactly what he was looking at.
The man looked around, trying to get his bearing. Since his vision was somewhat hazy, it was hard to orient himself, but he could see a bit of sunlight bounce off a small pond close by.
The man crawled to the water and dunked his hands and brought the water to his face. It was cold enough to make him gasp which was followed by a raspy cough. He felt like he was hacking up a lung, his throat felt like clay. He shoved his hands back in the water and took a long drink of water.
Taking another gasp, this time he was welcomed with fresh air moving cleanly to his lungs, surprisingly easier than he remembered. He remembered smoking before, at least two packs a day, yet he was breathing like he did before he started the dirty habit.
The man looked down at the water. After washing out his eyes, he could see clearly. As a matter of fact, he could see better than he used to. He had needed glasses before, yet now he could count the leaves on a tree from a long way away.
He then looked at his hands and stifled a scream. His once callused strong hands were now soft as a newborns. They were so small as well.
He thrust his head back to the pond and looked at his reflection. What he saw disturbed him to the bone. He saw the same hazel eyes he had seen in the mirror for his entire life. All the experience acquired over countless years reflected brightly within them, yet the face was completely different. He had long black hair tied into a ponytail as opposed to his short cropped brown hair he had once had.
"Is something the matter?" The voice asked from where he left it. His eyes now working, he looked over to see a woman, though she was something more as well. The deep red that he noticed was a kimono, there were designs on it as well. It looked like small foxes running along the fabric. As his eyes continued up from her clothing, he saw a lady with fair complexion. Her eyes were a deep gold, and had black hair in two buns at the top of her head.
"Where the hell am I?" The man was obviously upset, and rightfully so. He had just been in the middle of a mission that decided the fate of an entire civilization. Now he was in a densely grassy area looking into a face within a pond that wasn't his and conversing with a woman who looked like she had missed the latest Comic-Con!
"You are in my world, of course." The woman rolled her eyes. "I thought that much would be obvious."
"How so?!"
"Well, you remember dying, right?"
"Possibly." He tried to deflect. Maybe he was just dreaming and Michael didn't truly betray him. "I don't know what I remember." He muttered.
"Let's start with something simple." She put a finger to her mouth and looked up in thought. Where her finger pointed, he noticed slightly elongated canine teeth which only showed a little under her upper lip. "Tell me what your name is." Her golden eyes held a secret challenge.
"Well, if you must know, my name is classified." He said on reflex. With so many missions having been completed, he had essentially given his name to Michael. He himself was a shadow, not meant to be seen by the common people.
"Just humor me." The woman rolled her eyes. "Even if you don't say the name, at least think it. You must remember something of your life besides duty, right?"
The man shrugged and did what she asked, though something was wrong. "What have you done to me?!" He couldn't remember! His name was gone, his family history, everything that made him uniquely him was completely gone!
"Calm down, it wasn't me. I only left you in the oven for a while to take away all that unneeded crap from your previous life. I believe you were in for at least," She counted off on her hand, "I'd have to say a hundred years. She gave him a wry smile. "I know how you must feel, but trust me. I think you are better off. You have a new life here! What's more, you are young again." She looked him up and down. "I gave you a body of a five year-old. A completely new body. No more addictions, no more aches and pains. You can start from the ground up and do things the way you should have the first time. I even kept your intellect in tact!"
The man thought about what she was saying. Michael did indeed kill him. He was now in a new body, and had an incredibly attractive woman in front of him. "Why did he do it?" he asked himself. Michael had been like a brother to him. They had been a team for years, what could have changed?
"I told him to." The woman said simply, as if she were telling him what she had for dinner.
His eyes went wide. "He would never betray me." He gritted his teeth in agitation.
"Did you see him pick up the bag of money in the end?"
"No, why is that important?"
"What was his life like at home? You seemed to know him quite well. What was his wife like?" She gave him a sad smile that said everything.
"His wife had stage three cancer." He looked at his new bare feet. "He had just found out the week prior to the mission. There was nothing they could do for her except make her comfortable."
"Modern medicine wasn't enough." The woman nodded sympathetically. "At least, not in your world."
"My world?"
"Ellen is living quite nicely now." The woman beamed at him. "All she needed was a Cleansing Pill to take the impurities away." She giggled as she flicked her hand and a pill appeared between her fingers. "You should have seen your doctors faces when she just got up and walked away!"
"So, it was her for me?"
"Yes." Her eyes narrowed. What was he to think about it? Will he be angry? Will he seek revenge for her meddling in his life? Or will he live his life to become stronger in the hopes of raising Michael from the dead just to kill him?
"Thank you." The man said simply, as if to thank her for making a meal for him.
"Thank you?" She asked skeptically. "I had you killed and brought to an alien world. You have no way back. Yet you say thank you?"
"What you say is true and false all at once." The man raised an eyebrow, which looked strange to the woman. Even though she created the body, it was still strange to see the mannerisms of an adult portrayed in a child. "You did have me killed." He raised one finger. "That's true. Yet a man's wife is saved. A man who I hold dear in my heart. I'm glad he was able to choose his family, I might have done the same in his situation."
"That's incredibly rational." She was impressed with how he was handling this.
"This is an alien world, yet I feel as though you had a reason to bring me here. So I don't think I will be alien to it for much longer." He raised a second finger. He knew he was right when he saw her eyebrow raise slightly. "And I do believe there's a way back, or else you wouldn't have been able to breach the gap between worlds to grab me in the first place." He smiled as he finished.
"You aren't a simple man." She didn't have to explain much to him after all. It seemed like he picked up on things along the way. "So, no hard feelings?" For some reason she was led to this question. After what she had done, it felt right. She needed him, even more now than she had originally known.
"It depends." He leaned against a nearby tree and folded his arms. Though he was a five year old boy, somehow his demeanor of a world class spy seemed to stay with him. It was as if he were just wearing a new suit. "What the hell am I doing here?"