Is this it?
The end?
I thought that I'd at least make it to adulthood. I should've known. With how many times life has screwed me over… But perhaps it's better this way, my worthless life has finally been extinguished.
A sudden pain filled my head, flashbacks of my death filling my thoughts. Out of sheer instinct, my hand flew up to apply pressure onto my forehead.
Huh? That's weird, as a deadman I assumed I wouldn't have a body to be able to feel pain. Don't tell me that the suffering of one's death spreads over to the afterlife. If that's the case, then I'm going to have a head-splitting headache for my eternal rest.
The pain left as quickly as it came, allowing my mind to focus on the reality before me.
I grazed my hand down the side of my head and noticed that I didn't have my glasses on yet my eyes clearly fixed on the ground below my feet. The soil I stood on was unmistakably familiar. From what I was able to see, my body was in the same clothes I had on when I died. That is my school uniform.
As I continued to lower my arm, I noticed the thin fabric of my grey sweater swaying alongside the wind. I stared at it, my eyes moving up to the surface of my hand. Without much effort, I clenched and unclenched it in a single motion, my bony fingers moving according to my will, veins visible under the delicate veil that was my skin.
I lowered my arm completely, at the same time feeling my thin, dark hair brush against my face as I examined the scene before me.
Grey clouds covered the sky as far as the eye could see, and faint traces of rain drizzled down, signaling the downpour that was to come. The sun was setting on top of that, making the world seem a shade darker than it actually was.
What rested below the gloomy sky was something I didn't think my eyes were ready to gaze upon once more. My brows furrowed, unmistakable fumes of anger bubbling up deep within my being, but below that raging pit of anger lay a sorrowful void, like a calm, undisturbed ocean devoid of its usual vibrant blue.
I'm sure I died. So why? Why am I here? Again. In this… place.
My mind quickly drew a connection to what this place was, It was my childhood home. My life living here was already deplorable. It only continued going downhill once my mother ran away with my siblings, abandoning me and the man I call father.
I let out a breath, deciding not to dwell on the past, and instead began walking forward. I took one step, my body swaying uncontrollably since I wasn't accustomed to walking without any aid.
Now that I was dead, I didn't seem to carry the burden of dragging my useless body all over the place. I was able to move around more freely now.
It's not like I was completely immobile before, I was born with a debilitating condition that resulted in me always being lanky and sickly weak. It was troubling for me to move around without the help of my cane but now that I'm walking without the hindrances of my condition, it felt sort of liberating.
I couldn't help but express a smile at the fact and took another step, then another, quickly grasping the correct balance that walking took.
I continued forward, shifting my eyes away from my own two feet and facing ahead. I didn't enter the house. There wasn't much to see either way. I grew up poor in this rundown shack that I called home. Instead, I made my way around the place, toward a faint white light that caught my eye.
Walking towards the light… hah! What a cliche thing to do after death.
As I neared the backside of the house I saw a man with a long, nicely cut beard. He wore a thin, red-colored flannel with straps that went over his shoulders and held up his pants. In one of his hands, he held an axe. The sharp edges of the tool were stained with a red substance, one I'd assume to be blood.
I made my way around and stopped in front of him, taking in the man's features.
What struck me odd is that the man's focus was fixed on nothing in particular, he just stared ahead of himself, his eyes lacking any sort of semblance of sentiment or sentience. They were vacant and emotionless. His facial expression as a whole seemed hollow. He might as well have been a standing corpse.
Just as I became sure that this man wasn't able to perceive my presence, his eyes shifted down in an instant. This sudden change elicited an impulsive fear deep within me that made me shiver.
For a brief moment, this man's gaze settled on my own. His stare was distant yet as piercing as a needle. It felt like he was staring through me rather than at me, peering into the very depths of my rageful soul.
Who is this man? Is this… death? I didn't expect it to look like a regular guy. Or for it to even look anything remotely close to a human man at all.
Without uttering a word, he gestured toward the back door entrance of my childhood home. Through the surrounding creaks of the old wooden doorframe was where the light emanated.
With an eerie calmness, the man spoke, "Damien, you stand at the crossroads of existence. From here on you'll move on to the life after as per the natural order of life. However, me, being here means that you've been given a choice. Behind this door lies a different destiny for you. It's a path that offers you a chance to continue your life from where you left off. You can either choose to enter or allow what's left of you to be taken to the afterlife, a place completely unknown to the living. Choose, for your future continues with the decision you make."
I stood there, my eyes fixated on the door that apparently held the promise of a different fate. Despite that, I couldn't help but question, "Am I not dead?"
The man's expression remained indifferent, but he responded in a tone that suggested he'd answered this question countless times before. "You are not completely dead yet, Damien. But you are dying, yet death doesn't always have to be the end. It can also be a beginning. The choice you face now is not about whether you are dead or alive. It is about what you will do with the opportunity that lies before you."
The weight of the man's words lingered in the air as a swirl of emotions coursed through me.
Memories of a troubled life surfaced in my mind, and the idea of a second chance beckoned. However…
Turning my gaze to the man, my voice came out a mixture of curiosity and annoyance, "Why offer me a chance to continue? Why would I want to continue living right when I've just been freed from all my troubles? Just what is behind that door?"
I sought answers in the mysterious depths of his expression, torn between a well-known past and an uncertain future.
The man regarded me with a knowing calmness as if he had anticipated my response. His gaze, unyielding, seemed to hold some understanding of the struggles I had faced.
In a voice that reflected his outer vacantness, he replied, "Damien, the door doesn't offer a continuation of the same troubles you've endured. It leads to a path where you can shape your destiny anew. Behind it lies a series of trials, each a chance for redemption, growth, and the power of forging a different fate. Revival comes with reward. The choice is yours."
As he spoke, the door seemed to shimmer, its light pulsating with an otherworldly energy. The mysterious aura heightened the sense of the moment, leaving me with a choice that held the weight of an even scale.
What I desire most? The choice is mine… when the hell have I ever been given choices?
Never.
Every day I've been forced to suck it up because I lacked the strength. Because I'm weak. I'm done…
I'm done being the scapegoat, being everyone's punching bag, being left alone to fend for myself, being wronged, ridiculed, abused, tormented… abandoned.
A sudden desire ignited within me, a fierce longing for liberation from the shackles of my past. I craved a life where I held the reins, where my existence was not defined by the torment of others. I yearned for a world where I was not bound by the chains of relentless suffering, where my spirit could finally breathe, unburdened by the weight of perpetual hardship.
So, as I stood at the crossroads, I sought a reward beyond mere survival. I sought the power to reshape my destiny, to claim a reward that went beyond the many scars of my past. Revival, not just as a return to my life, but as a rebirth into a reality where I am not merely a victim, but a victor.
Let's see what this mysterious power in promise is.
As my mind came to a conclusion, a spark of determination kindled within the depths of my being.
I'll show them all. Everyone who has wronged me will witness the strength that rises from the ashes of their cruelty. I'll come back to spite you all.
With a hardened resolve, I faced the hollowed man once more. "Alright, I've made my choice." I paused taking a moment to gaze at the ordinary wooden door. "I'll do it, I'm going in."
The hollowed man gave me a single nod and turned around. "Follow me."
Without delay, I began walking a step behind him.
We weren't all that far away from the door, but with every step I took it stirred within me certain emotions I didn't normally feel, emotions so alien that it was hard for me to pinpoint exactly what I was feeling.
Was I glad? Excited? happy?
Glad to have been given a choice. Excited to undertake this challenge. Delighted to come back and curse everyone who did me wrong.
For the second time today in only a short span of time, I couldn't help but allow another smile to form on my face. This one much too different than my first.
The light that peeked through the surrounding creaks of the entrance flickered as the towering man stood in their way. Without wasting a moment, he opened the door and signaled for me to come inside.
I paused for an instant, taking a moment to asses what I was looking at. Sitting before the opened door was a room I didn't remember being in this house.
Just like the exterior, the interior of this place was dilapidated with much neglect in appearance. The walls were deteriorating. Dust marks remained permanently stained on various parts of the construct. The floor had bits and pieces missing and many insects crawled within numerous hidden spaces no doubt. At least that's how it was in my memory.
So How?
How is it possible that beyond the door that awaits a deteriorating interior, instead lies a clean space with reflective metal platings for walls with a black matt for the floor? It was as if this door opened a portal to a different space.
I kept my mouth shut, choosing not to question it. It wasn't a perfect world I lived in after all. As I entered the room I noticed that the white light being emitted was caused by strip ceiling lights that were placed atop the small room.
The hollowed man entered after me.
Dazed by the mysterious appearance of this room I didn't notice the door closing behind me. However, once I turned around, the door was no longer there, replaced by another metal wall. Just like that, It felt as if I had left the reality of the world behind.
I turned my attention forward. The back wall was a bit dug in with a tall door-shaped indentation. On one side of it, there was a U-shaped slide door handle within reach.
The air around me was deadly quiet. I didn't make a sound, still dazed by the current scene unfolding.
Not long after, the still air was broken by the low-pitched voice of the man behind me. "Whenever you're ready."
It wasn't hard to guess that his words implied that I go through the door.
I raised my arm and poised it, ready to grab onto the handle but hesitated. Instead, I turned back to the man who stood behind me. "Any advice for what awaits ahead?"
In response to my words, he regarded me with his usual impassiveness. "The environment of what you'll face is different for everyone, that said I do not know which one you'll face first. You'll be put through scenarios based on your own intellect and mental fortitude. Most of what you will go through will be a fabrication of your imagination. The only thing I can tell you is to try your hardest."
I took a breath, then asked, "Are you real?"
The hollowed man's gaze shifted slightly. "Yes. I… was. I am dead now. A failed challenger, forever forced to live in this plane, reliving the same moment, time and time again."
A failed challenger. Reliving the same moment time and time again. Is he experiencing some sort of scenario on loop due to being defeated by whatever this place was?
I decided to not ask for more information regarding that topic, despite my desire to try and understand the nature of this place, for the sole reason that I may find my determination wavering when met with unsavory words.
Instead, I went for something more simple. "Do you have a name?"
"Hannes," he replied simply.
Given what he told me, it was reasonable for me to assume that there would be other challengers who failed. "Hannes, are there others like you?"
In the same way he expressed all his previous words, he spoke the following with the same note of emotionless utterance. "Yes, there are a lot of others like me. What you will be put through is indeed created based on your understanding. But the people you might see are very real, or they were at one point. All being failed challengers like me with remnants of their consciousness forever stuck here."
I remained still for a moment, pondering what other type of information I could get from him. Yet I simply didn't know enough about this place for me to question. Plus, I already tried asking what lies ahead and received a roundabout answer so there wasn't a lot Hannes could provide for me.
I had a feeling that the trials ahead would be difficult, but I was as ready as I could be. There was no going back on my decision now. I turned back to the door, my resolve steeled once more. It was time to face whatever lay beyond.
I will show them all.
Grasping the handle firmly, I slid the door open and stepped through without a second thought, leaving the past behind me.