In The Next Life

I couldn’t stop staring at it. That needle had been sitting there on my nasty sink for hours, the amber liquid inside shining under the fluorescent bathroom light, taunting me. It’s filled as far as it can go, one last shot. As much as I want to get out of this bathroom, I can’t. Every time I try to get up from the toilet I feel like I'm going to throw up. Not to mention how bad my body hurts. My muscles feeling like they’ve been replaced with cement blocks is an understatement. Every inch feels like my insides are cracking, inside and out. I haven’t shot up in five days. My body won’t stop shaking, but my brain is too hyper focused on the rain hitting the window outside to remember how to cope. I’m itchy like I haven't bathed in weeks, scratching my arms and legs until I have little sores everywhere. Hot to cold. Hot to cold. Half knows it's just water, the other half keeps telling me it’s someone tapping at me trying to get in my apartment. I know it’s not true, but then again, you never really know for sure.

I force myself to my feet, hating myself every inch of the way. I start to slowly pull my shirt off, disgusted at the site of bones and skin. As my shorts fell to the floor after it I couldn’t escape a feeling of shame that ran through my body. I almost fell forward to the floor but managed to catch myself on the sink, knocking the syringe in by the drain. When I look at my reflection in the mirror, I see nothing. Not a man, not a person, not even a body. The face staring back at me in the broken glass isn't mine. Chase Crowley no longer exists. Just another junkie at rock bottom who doesn't want to get back up. I take one last hard stare at the needle, knowing with one plunge I could have everything I want. I stumble and shake but manage to pick it up. Decision made.

I reach over to the tub faucet, turn it until the water starts. I lower myself to my knees to plug to drain, lay the needle down on the side of the tub across the ashtray. With every breath I could feel my heart wanting to shut down. I let my arms fall into the water, the warmth almost making the sores on my arms not throb so much. Tears started to fill my eyes, but not from sadness or from the pain. But from the sheer knowing that it would all be over soon. I heave myself into the tub, sending water all over the floor. I lay there for a minute and try to catch my breath. For a moment I think I might die of a heart attack before I can get to my needle. I keep the faucet running just for background noise as I reach for the last half of my cigarette in the ashtray, light it up. I watch the rain and smoke for a while, letting the water in the tub start to overflow. The burning in my lungs makes me cough, like trying to release coals from my body. Even if I were to die right here, not like my landlord will really care after someone finds me rotting here. He’ll be more worried about the water damage.

Cigarette gone I move on to the main event. I take the syringe in my hands, think about this one more time. No more running, no more suffering, no more sickness. Just the sweet silence of endless sleep.

As soon as the needle pierced my skin, blood started to run down into the water. The sting made me cringe, the throbbing starting right away. I watched the cartridge drain into my vein slowly as I pushed down on the plunger. I could feel every drop making its way through my arm and into my chest. Warmth spread across me like a wildfire. Nothing had ever felt so good in my life. Suddenly I couldn't feel my limbs, my breathing started to slow. I knew it was coming, but didn’t know it would turn on me like this. I could feel myself starting to slide down into the water but couldn’t bring myself back up. It was all getting very fuzzy and light. My chest felt like it was going to cave in completely.

I felt the water cover my mouth. I held my lips closed, shallow breath escaping from my nose. I started hyperventilating as a small taste of panic took hold. But there was no stopping the inevitable. One final slide and I was under. The warm water feels safe, like nothing could ever hurt or disappoint me again. I closed my eyes against the water, trying to make my body believe I’m trying to sleep. I could feel myself slipping lower and lower, as if the bottom of the bathtub had disappeared completely. I opened my eyes under the water, watched as the bubbles wandered aimlessly without direction. My heart started to pound as I realized that’s exactly what had happened. There was nothing but darkness as I floated through the nothingness. The only thing I could make out was a small hole of light that was drifting further and further away. I finally felt at peace as the bubbles stopped coming. I could finally sleep forever.

Or so I thought.

Suddenly I felt a stabbing pain shoot from my heart down through my entire body, like electricity had taken hold of me. The pain was unimaginable. I could feel myself being pulled in every direction without a clear path or idea where I might land in the vast darkness. Hands from what felt like thousands of people started grabbing and pulling at every inch of me, scratching my arms and back. Their anguished screams echoed through the water with ease. I felt like my eardrums might explode. I suddenly felt a hand take hold of my neck, nails piercing my skin, and pulling me in one direction. I couldn’t see them, I couldn’t resist them. I was terrified.

Water rushed around me as I suddenly found myself landing on a hardwood floor. My lungs felt like they had caught on fire as I threw up what felt like gallons of water. I looked around as I started to catch my breath and realized my surroundings. The house looked like it hadn’t seen the light of day in many years. Maybe even centuries. Trees seemed to have grown through the walls and died several times over, branches dead on the floor and breaking down aged drywall. The smell of must and decaying wood took over my nose. The cold of the air seemed to freeze every breath that left my mouth. I got to my feet and shakily began walking through the many halls. The walls were falling in on themselves, barely supporting the cracked ceiling above, including one chandelier hanging high above a winding staircase. With every step I took the wood under my feet creaked like it would give way at any second. Every window I tried to look out of gave me nothing to see but the vast nothingness I was just pulled from. I could still hear water rushing around me, like this house was somewhere under water. Water steadily dripped inside from the holes above. I stopped in front of a cracked mirror to check out my neck from where I was grabbed. Five small punctures were slowly bleeding down my neck. Whatever pulled me inside this place wasn’t taking no for an answer.

As I made my way up the stairs I started to hear music coming from the only room with closed double doors. Light illuminated the edges of the doors, and a faint shadow danced behind them. There was someone, or something, in there. I started to make my way down the hall, not really sure what my next move would be. I almost made it to the doors before I started to feel eyes on my back. I slowly turned to see if I was right, and I was. But not in the way I expected. I was surprised to see a white dove staring at me from an old table along the wall. I couldn’t explain it, but it made me feel safe knowing something light was here with me in this place. Its pale blue eyes darted around the room until they landed on mine. I swear it was looking directly into my soul. I followed its gaze when it looked down and found a dark pair of sweatpants laying on a broken chair. I’d never been so happy about a pair of pants in my life. I crept over and picked them up, keeping my eyes on the dove the whole time. It didn’t move when I went near it or as I picked up the pants. It almost felt like encouragement to grab them. I backed up and pulled the sweats over myself, thankful I could finally try to warm up. The dove cued and looked towards the doors, almost telling me that’s exactly where I needed to go. I started towards the doors, but turned back for one more second. “Thanks”, I said, feeling a little weird about talking to a bird. As soon as I did it took off, and I watched as it flew through one of the broken windows, straight into the black water. If only I knew for sure that it could be that easy for me.

The doorknobs on the doors were cold as ice as I grabbed them and turned. The wood of the doors creaked as I pushed them open into a large library, sucking the air out of the room as I did. Tattered books were discarded all over the floor. The large fireplace on the back wall roared with flames that were almost as tall as me. Two leather chairs faced each other with a small dark coffee table between them in front of the fireplace, a bottle of what looked like scotch and two glasses sat in the center of the table. I cautiously stepped into the room, looking for whoever might be in here with me. “Hello?”, I said, not receiving any response but cold silence. I went to the fireplace and sat down on the dirty floor, grateful to finally feel warmth again.

A low voice broke the silence from behind me. “For someone who wanted desperately to die a few minutes ago, you seem to really want to live now”. I jumped to my feet, slipping and stumbling through dirt and water to the nearest corner of the room as I heard laughter from behind me. I put my back to the wall, held my arms up, and found the source of the voice. A tall, thin man stood in front of the double doors. He looked like he had been ripped from the pages of a gothic novel. Everything about him was regal, from his black three piece suit to his white, slicked back hair. His skin was the ashy white of a corpse. The only color he possessed was a deep red tie. The way he stood told me he owned the room simply by existing in it, and he knew it. He pulled a pocket watch from his jacket with his sharp nailed hand and took in the time, “I really thought you’d chicken out right at the end, but you definitely surprised me there”, he said as he walked over to one of the shelves and pulled a random book from the many stacks. He flipped through it a little and sat down in one of the chairs. His white eyes cut through me like I was soft butter. I could feel myself shaking, fearful of what exactly was about to happen. He looked at me puzzled, “Well I’m not going to hurt you Chase. Please”, he said motioning me to the other chair, “sit”.

I slowly got to my feet, keeping my fists up as I did. “Where am I? And how do you know my name?”, I asked him. He smiled sharp teeth and shook his head at me, “I know everything about you, and I assure you, you have nothing to fear from me”. He looked down at my fists, motioned his hand downward, “and those really aren’t necessary here”. “You still haven’t answered my questions. Where the fuck am i and what the fuck is this place?”, I demanded. The man crossed his legs and patted the book, “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, just sit down”. The vibe in the room told me I didn't have a choice. What could I really do? Say no? I couldn’t fathom how I got here, let alone how to get out. But if this strange man could get me anywhere but here, I guess I had no choice either way.

I made my way to the other chair and slowly sat down. The leather was cold against my skin, goosebumps rising all over me. Minutes passed like hours while I waited for the pale man to say anything. The pale man flipped to the back of the book and looked at me. “You’ve had quite the sad life, haven’t you?”, he asked me, “by the end you really had nothing worth hanging on for”. I wasn’t sure how to answer him. I continued my silence, not sure where this was going. I watched him flip to the front of the book and start flipping through pages. “What’s that?”I asked him, pointing to the book. He held it up with one hand, “this sad, thin little book is the story of your life Chase”, he explained, “don’t you recognise it even a little?”. The blank look on my face I didn't. To me it looked like a random, crappy book. He handed it to me, “take a closer look for yourself if you don’t believe me”. I shakily took the book from his hand, afraid this is where he would finally pounce. But no, he just leaned back in his chair, as if waiting for my reaction. He seemed almost giddy with anticipation. I looked down at the dirty book and saw nothing.there wasn’t a title, an author, not even a picture. I flipped through the entire thing and found not a word. “Is this a joke?”, I asked. “I never joke”, the pale man said, in an almost offended tone. “Look harder”, he said. “Think of a memory that’s burned into your brain”.

Only one came to mind. I couldn’t help but think about it given my situation. The pages flipped to the back and jumped as I realized what was happening. The pages began having words burn into them, laying out the entire scene in gory detail. My end wasn’t a pretty thing to relive. I could feel everything. Every emotion, every pain, and finally I felt nothing at all. Tears began to well up in my eyes as I felt myself die all over again. I had no idea how horrid it actually was until I had to do it all over again.

I tossed the book in front of the fireplace and jumped from my chair. “Where the fuck am I!”, I screamed, my voice cracking and bouncing off the walls. My fear had seeped into anger as I put myself right in front of the pale man's face, not backing down. I grabbed the side of his jacket in my fist, “Tell me where the fuck I am or I swear I’ll kill you”, I told him. He started to laugh again, this time with a lot more gusto to it. “Does it look like I’m fucking kidding?”, I asked him. His expression didn’t look like he believed me at all. The rage inside me couldn’t be held anymore. I pulled my fist back and thrust it towards his face, ready to take him down. Before I even knew what was happening, the pale man had caught my flying fist in one hand and caught me by my throat with the other, a perfect fit with the bleeding sores I had gained earlier. He slowly stood up and lifted me into the air as he did. I couldn’t breathe. He started to squeeze my neck so hard that I could hear my bones popping, blood starting to flow down my neck at an alarming rate. “So”, he started, “you really believe you can kill death?”, he asked. “That’s a fool's errand if i ever heard one”, he said and threw me into the nearest bookcase.

I struggled to get the air back into my lungs while the pale man walked over and picked up the book from the floor. “That’s the fire that I need in my services. I was so right about you. Now, if you wouldn’t mind getting back to your chair, I can tell you what I need from you”. I rolled over and looked up at him, “Is this Hell?”. “No. Lucky for you this is not Hell”, he said sitting back down, “but it’s as close as you can get. Purgatory isn’t something to take for granted, in any context. You’re lucky I grabbed you when I did, otherwise those poor souls out there would’ve torn your soul to pieces. Suicide isn’t an acceptable way to die, even down here”. I hoisted myself into the chair again, ready to play nice. He sat the book down on the table and folded his hands together. “Out of all the men I have approached you’re certainly one of the saddest”, he said. He flipped through the book and started naming off different memories from my life. “Addicted mother who barely knew she was pregnant, given up for adoption at three after a lengthy battle through the court system, in and out of foster care until you were eighteen. But that was just the beginning for you”, he said. I squirmed around in my chair, getting increasingly uncomfortable with every word he spoke.

“By the time you were twenty you had managed to become a full blown heroin addict and living on the streets of Stonewall City. Now, be honest, did you know that you were headed towards death or did you decide later that you were a waste of a life?”, he asked. The question almost made me want to cry, but I held back my tears. “I realize that what you had planned was something a little more permanent, but i think i have an offer that you might want to take”, he explained. I took the bait, “You’ve made it very clear that i am one of the lowest forms of a life that you have ever seen, so why would you want to help me at all?”. The pale man sat the book down on the table and began to pour two drinks into the glasses. “I’m in need of another soul on earth to help in the aid of other souls to make their way to the other side”, he explained as he handed me a glass. I slowly took the glass from him knowing it wasn’t an option to say no.

I watched him as he drank the strange liquid, a tinge of red lining his lips as he did. “I don’t understand”, I started, “you want me to be Death? How is that even possible?”. The pale man laughed to himself at my question. “No, no. You could never do what I do my boy. But what if you were able to have the life you want in the arrangement that you do as I need you to?”. I wasn’t sure how to take what he was offering me. Could it really be that easy? Did I want my old life back? Part of me was jumping for joy at the thought of starting my life over, but the other half was just too tired to care about anything he said. I had to admit, the thought of actually living a real life sounded like the better option from what I saw here. I sat the glass down, still unsure if I should actually drink it or not. I finally had to ask, “what exactly would I have to do?”.

“It’s simple really”, he started, “I would allow you to reclaim your life on earth. You would never have to worry about dying, in any way, as long as you do the tasks handed to you. You can drink, you can consume narcotics”, he said, giving me a look, “hell, party your ass off like you never have before. I don’t care. You won’t die, even if you try to do it yourself or if something happens. Nothing can kill you”. “What do I have to do for you though?”, I asked again, “you’re not answering the question”. He finished his drink and sat the glass down on the table. “In exchange for an immortal life with no consequences of any kind, the price is helping the dying get ushered over to the other side. Either peacefully, or by force”. He smiled while pouring himself another drink, “your choice”.

I just stared at him. Was he really asking what I thought he was asking? “You want me to kill people in order to restore my own life?”, I asked him. The pale man sipped his drink, “if you want to put it so blatantly, yes”. “Out of all the stupid shit I've done in my life, why would you think I’d be able to take someone else's life?”, I asked him, “I’ve never had the want or the urge to even want to kill someone. “To be fair”, he said while tapping his glass, “you just took your own life without so much as a second thought. What’s the difference if you take a life that you have no emotional attachment to?”, he asked me. “That’s completely different. I hated my life, so I ended my suffering. I knew what I wanted and did it. I didn’t take the choice away from someone else”, I said. “Perhaps”, he agreed, “but you don’t have any attachment to anyone or anything, so you wouldn’t be blinded by who they are. All you need to worry about is that the clock ran out for them and their life has come to its end. And if they won’t go quietly, then they will go screaming”.

“Consider it a chance to do something meaningful for once in your short life. If you agree, you’ll have nothing but time to do some good in the world by being the mercy to some poor, lost soul”, he explained. I leaned forward and folded my hands together, trying to wrap my head around this whole situation. As much as it seemed crazy to think that I could take a life, I really didn’t think I could spend an eternity down here either. “How would I do it? How would I kill someone?”, I asked him, slightly scared of what his answer might be. He smiled, “don’t worry about that. You can even get creative once you figure it out and get used to it. Trust me, eventually, it all becomes very mundane”. He stood up from his chair, extended his pale hand. “Do we have a deal?”, he asked.

I stood up onto my shaky legs, once again at the end of an impossible choice. Once again, I’m making a selfish decision to save my own ass. “Deal”, I said, holding out my hand to his. The pale man grabbed my hand and squeezed it hard. He grinned at me, “excellent”.

After shaking hands he poured himself another drink and held it up. “A toast”, he said, “to your never ending life, renewed”. I grabbed my glass again and looked at him one more time. He sighed, “it’s not going to kill you, if that’s what you’ve been thinking”. I wasn’t sure if I could trust this man or whatever he claimed to be, but if he really wanted me to do this, what would be the point of trying to kill me if I’m already dead anyway? I brought the glass to my lips and sipped. The aroma was strong but the taste was stronger as it hit my tongue. I couldn’t tell what it was. I started to cough it back up but forced myself to swallow the last of it in one final gulp. I could feel it burning my throat as it snaked its way through my body. I placed the glass back on the table as the burning creeped its way to my back. “By the way”, the pale man started, “There’s a few things I forgot to mention”, he said.

Just as he said that my back felt like someone had lit it on fire. I reached back to try to stop the burning, but I just burned my fingertips in the process. Whatever was happening to me couldn’t be stopped. I looked at my fingers to find them burned and bleeding. The pale man stepped back as I dropped to my knees from the pain. “With this immortal life comes a few losses”, he explained. He started to walk around me like a shark going in for a kill. I tried my best to focus on him, but it was almost impossible with the pain radiating through my body. “You will never die or know the sweet release of eternal sleep. You will never again know sleep. You will never sire any children, for death can not bring life. Your never ending life will be spent knowing you will never know love, of any kind”. The burning in my back had gotten so intense it felt like needles carving into my back. “Your old life will be erased from time. Noone will remember you or your life before your death”, he continued, “by drinking the blood of the angels, you accept the mark of the reaper”. I rolled into the fetal position and tried not to move, thinking I really was going to die after all.

I felt like my whole body was contorting with no way to stop it. The fire that seemed to be scorching every fiber of my being only intensified. I couldn’t hold my cries of pain back anymore and let them out. Just as I thought I was actually going to die, the pale man kneeled down next to me and rolled me onto my back with his foot. I yelled out in agony. The pale man scoffed at my pain. “This is nothing”, he said in a low voice, “getting back to the living is so much worse”. I opened my eyes and focused just enough to see him pull a blade out of one of his boots. Every small movement I made made me want to die. “This is gonna hurt, but there will be many pleasures on the other side”, he said, “good luck up there”, and plunged the blade into my chest straight to my heart.

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