White lights. Glaring. Everywhere. Piercing the darkness. Pain. Do the dead feel pain? Voices. Whispering. Penetrating the conciousness. Who are you? What are you? Where am I? Now silence. Stillness. The lights...gone. Darkness, enveloping. This is hell? Sleep. Overpowering...
Zack's eyes fluttered open, once again meeting the harsh glare of lights. What happened? Slowly memory returned. The fight at Reets...the purple bullet...Oh yeah, I'm dead. The thought came as a simple statement of fact. Zack felt no fear, no concerm; just an overwhelming sense of peace. Only one thing bothered him: Where am I?
You are among friends, child, A voice of indeterminable sex stated; or at least, Zack was pretty sure it was stated. The voice seemed to just float in his head...neither here nor there.
"Who are you?" Zack asked. Who we are is not important. But know this, child. We have spared you. We are giving you life. And we ask very little in return. Only this. Will you help us return to our home?
Zack had no idea what the voice was talking about. He felt like he was in a dream. All he could do was nod dumbly. Excellent. Then return to your mortal life, child. Continue to serve us faithfully, and we will reward you with God-hood. Remember this...
A blinding flash. Zack shot bolt upright in bed, sweating and panting. A nightmare? No, it had been too real...and yet, so very unreal. A new desire overpowered him. The desire to destroy the man who shot him. And to conquer the Shadowlands. To attain power. To become a God.
Originally Posted by dustynova
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