A sequel to
Overtime
*BIP* *BIP* *BIIP* *BIIIP* *BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee* *Thunk*
I could hear a voice rise above the sounds throughout the busy room. "I'm going to call it, 03:30." "Give me a moment with his son." I lived
great life. One filled with travel and adventure. Felt the love of a woman and the joys of fatherhood. Compassion of a friend and laughter with
family. However, I knew that my time was borrowed. It was all due back to he who had lent it.
Feeling my consciousness free from the bonds of my physical body, I found myself on a very different plane...his plane. I stoically waited for
him to show up. Perhaps a sort of welcoming party, after all, a debt was due. As I ventured around the hospital room my curiousness grew. Could I
freely travel? I could run! Attempting my newfound freedom I dashed through the wall. Nurses at their stations, faces blurred by the green smoke
that seemed to linger in this place.
Through the next door I could see a doctor talking to a man. My son. Tears streaming down his face. At least he can now heal. Just then the
scent of sulfur pervaded the air. The green smoke took on a dark hue and realized he was near and it was time. I felt no fear thought I'm not
entirely sure I was able to had I a choice. Through my mind he spoke, "it's time."
Like a fish on a set hook, I was yanked through a long corridor. Hands and arms reaching out along the way. Decayed and twisted they reached
for me. Flesh dangling off the nails, I had not been the first. Kicking and trying to scream as I was drug along by a seemingly invisible chain. It
clanged on the floor behind me although was not immediately visible.
The room was bright red and made of a biological substance. Slime covered in appearance with dark black veins running in and out. I imagined
that this is what a brain looks like from inside! He stood before me. Much the same as I saw him at first with his wings tucked against his back.
Eyes black as onyx and gazing in my direction. His armor made no noise as he reached into it and produced a long quilled pen. He walked over to an
archaic desk that held a book. I managed to get out an inquiry. "What do I call you?" It snorted, and continued its business.
He opened the book. It's engraved silver cover glistened in this dark room. I again heard his voice in my mind. "You knew I would come for
you, yet you lived a normal life; why?"
I responded in voice, "It was normal?" I asked in sarcasm. "It felt it was like a good life."
"Such capability met with mediocrity...hmmmph." He replied.
He wrote something down and slammed the book shut. It resonated and echoed throughout the small chamber. He then took on a menacing stare.
Wings flying open and bared his sharp teeth. "We're done here!" He yelled and his dagger came out. I could then feel, for the first time since my
death it seemed, the lingering pain of his original incision. It burned. As he made his way in my direction the room began to increase in intensity.
Everything was brightening. He got closer as it got brighter. He started to laugh. I could no longer see and I heard his voice in my head again.
"My name?" "My name is......."
"Peter."
edit on 2-3-2017 by JinMI because: (no reason given)