Death was not the end for me. It probably wasn't even the start, thinking retrospectively. But, before I get ahead of myself, let's go over what caused my death.
I wish I could say it'd been something unpredictable, random; like getting decked across the pavement by a speeding truck or something. But even if it wasn't exactly what I expected, I can't say I was surprised.
It had been a relatively normal winter day in rural America. As always, I'd gone to school early in the morning just in time to get an iced coffee as the coffee shop opened. I set up on the third floor of my university's library to study while enjoying my coffee and then…
Chaos.
About half an hour into my study session, the sound of distant gunshots and screaming startled me into maximum vigilance and a mild panic.
'Are you fucking kidding me? After five years without a school shooting, the next attention seeking asshole just had to pick my school?!' To say I was furious was putting it mildly.
Of course, that fury and anger was heavily suppressed by the fear I felt. You know, being a normal fucking person and all, I didn't carry a firearm to school to prepare for this. So, I was more or less defenseless.
Worse yet, the asshole going about his killing spree was coming closer if the increasing volume of blood curdling screams and full auto fire was any indication.
Now, I won't lie. I was a fat, unathletic person. I didn't have many options to either run away or fight back. But, fuck if I was going to go down without at least trying to save myself.
Fortunately, I still had a chance at redeeming my predicament by virtue of the fact that I practically lived in the library; I knew where everything was on every floor.
I scurried up to the fourth floor, darting to the area where a room was being remodeled. There, after swiping a screwdriver from the construction workers' equipment, I returned to the stairs and ran up to the sixth floor. The sixth floor had the most convoluted interior design, with seemingly random hallways placed all over the place.
It was the perfect place to hide, wait out, and potentially ambush the shooter. Unfortunately, the pitiful amount of running and stair-climbing I did combined with my spiked heart rate had left me panting like a dog. Had I been more calm, more fit, maybe, just maybe… I'd have gotten the jump on the shooter when he eventually passed by me.
Instead, because he took his sweet ass time scanning the floor for people to shoot and I hadn't managed my breath properly, he would eventually react to the sound of my breathing and the hunt began.
It didn't last very long, maybe ten to twenty seconds at most, but with the threat of death on my mind, every second felt like an eternity.
I tried to reach the stairs to descend down the building and hope the police had arrived in time to be there and defend me from the psycho that would doubtlessly be chasing. But before I could make it, I got shot in the shoulder.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Great, he was one of the sadistic types. It was the only explanation I could come up with for why he'd use a pistol to wound me, start talking, and not pepper me up with a machine gun.
I wasn't in the mood to chat and with my body still acting on autopilot, I turned around and threw the screwdriver as hard as I possibly could.
"Motherfu—"
Somehow, the screwdriver found its way lodged into his neck. But, with the shooter still very much alive and now angry, my only shot at living was charging him and finishing the job.
The neck wound granted me enough time with the shooter stunned to get within reaching distance. Before the fucker could shoot again, me and my 260 lbs tackled him onto the ground.
Filled with primal instincts of self preservation, I, who'd usually get scared of crushing a cockroach or squashing a mosquito, found it in me to go for his eyes and…
Squish.
"Ahhhh!!!!"
Nope. Sympathy or empathy or whatever it was that left people with remorse had eluded me as I snatched the shooter's pistol and…
Bang.
Despite getting shot in the head he was still twitching and squirming; screaming and clawing at me.
Bang. Bang. Bang. Click…
Even aftering the gun clicked unceremoniously, without bullets, for the fifth time, I continued pulling the trigger. Then I suddenly stopped and looked at the gun in my hand and smiled.
"Hahaha," I actually started laughing as I turned to stare down at the mangled bloody mess of a corpse I had created.
"HAHAHA, I hope it was worth it fucker!" I didn't know what it was I felt at that moment as I threw the pistol at the corpse. It was a storm of emotions I didn't think I was capable of experiencing at the same time.
I was happy, elated, to survive the terrible ordeal. I was angry, hateful, of the asshole who'd made me and everyone else present at the university go through it. I was conflicted, worried, about how this would end for me, having just killed someone in the most over the top way I could think of. I was scared… No, I was terrified of what my family would think of me. But I didn't give the slightest sliver of a fuck for the asshole I killed.
"Ah man, Jordy got, got," was the last thing I heard before turning around and seeing another three armed-to-the-teeth shooters pointing their guns at me.
Then, after a flash seared my eyes with white, I lost all sensation in my body and everything faded to black. It was just my luck to have killed a school shooter only for three more to show up and avenge the fucker.
…
Now, like I said, dying wasn't the end for me. For I somehow ended up transmigrating into the body of a homeless orphan boy. Only, I wasn't in American, I wasn't even on Earth. I, somehow, someway… ended up on a place called the Midnight Abyss World.
For whatever reason, despite taking over the body of a seventeen-year-old who wasn't from Earth, I could understand everyone and everything as clear as if they were communicating in English; my native language. With this strange ability, it took a while, but I eventually pieced together everything I needed to figure out where I was.
I wasn't in Hell, though, maybe some of the details did line up with some depictions of hell from what I knew of the religions back in my first life. Here, where I currently stood, the universe was called the Nine Abyss Plane and it had a total of nine worlds; kind of like the nine layers of hell.
The Midnight Abyss World didn't have fires wantonly spreading everywhere or being tortured for sinning. Though, there was a supernatural element to things…
Certain people, me included, possessed these things called Umbra Spirits. They were like a superpower you got just by being born. But like all superpowers, some were amazing and others were pathetic.
Guess which kind I had.
Yeah, I wouldn't be an homeless orphan boy prowling around the city streets like a sewer rat if I had the potential to become the next superman, now would I?
Fortunately, in this weird new reality I'm occupying, Umbra Spirits aren't the be all end all as just about everyone has some sort of talent and can enter a sect to cultivate or something. I don't really understand much about it, since everything I know about this place as come second hand from eavesdropping while I explored the city I woke up in.
But, there are two things I know for certain. One, my Umbra Spirit is one of the weakest or so everyone has told me. In essence, it lets me control dust, though it seems to be very rare seeing as no one knows its name. And two, the world is paradoxically advanced technologically despite lacking a scientific background.
Everything in this world seems to be powered by Demon Cores. Moreover, with there being people around capable of harnessing the power of the elements, all sorts of first world luxuries back on Earth are commodities in the Midnight Abyss World.
Cultivators, from what I've heard, are responsible for making all kinds of insane magical artifacts and there are also seals and formations that I can't wrap my head around.
Well… I think I've bid my time for long enough. I've lived for the past week by eating berries and fruits near the entrance of the forest right outside of the city, so after hearing I might have a talent and be welcomed into a sect, I think I'll try my luck today.
Who knows, maybe I'll become some famous cultivator one day and make up in this life what I missed in the first one. I'm sure that's all my family back home could hope for considering the insanity of where I've ended up.
I hope my death didn't hurt them too badly...