Thank you Marcus
She awakens to sirens in the background. The concrete is wet beneath her body and she is cold. A shiver goes through her body as she lifts herself to her feet. Her tired muscles ache and she can’t remember leaving the bar that she now stands outside of. It is bright outside but the street lights are all on. She walks into the bar to find her purse.
The scene that greets her is macabre. A woman lies shot on the ground surrounded by medical technicians and police officers. She can tell the woman has been dead for awhile since she has stopped painting the floor with her blood. She is impossible to recognize because of the large exit wound where her face use to be.
“Poor bitch,” one of the officers says
“’Poor bitch’ is right,” the woman thinks.
The police officer is going through a purse looking for some form of identification. The woman watches him. That purse looks a lot like hers. Come to think of it, so does the body. Then it hits her like a speeding bullet: the dead woman is her. As soon as the realization comes to her the world fades to black and becomes impossibly colder.
When the world returns to its normal colors the bar is empty except for one woman. She is dressed in a long black trench coat, a black vest and some jeans. She smiles at the woman who looks very confused. Still unsure what is going on the woman approaches the black clad woman.
“Hello,” the woman at the table says as she comes closer.
“Umm, Hi, I think, umm, I think I am dead.”
“You’d think right. I am Death and Demise. I am Extinction and Rest. I am Quietus and Dissolution. I am the Grim Reaper. You can call me Death though.”
“You don’t LOOK like the Grim Reaper.”
“No, the Grim Reaper doesn’t look like me. I assure you I am who I say I am.”
“So, what now?”
“Normally I would assist you into any afterlife you believed in during your life. I would assist in any way possible with any questions you might have and you’d be on your way.”
“Normally?”
“Yes. Normally. However your case isn’t normal. You were killed because of a direct interference by another immortal. You were killed because Desire got involved in mortal affairs. Because of this you get options. Not many, but some.”
“Options?”
“Yes. Option one is that you die as normal and, since you believed in no after life, cease to exist. Your mind will turn off and your soul will vanish. You will, in all respects, no longer exist.”
“And... the other options?”
“Option two is that you can be born again with all the knowledge you have now still intact. You would live the first 27 years of a normal life again and have two different sets of memories regarding them. You’d remember two mothers and two fathers. You’d be mentally, if not physically, able to talk from birth. You’d be held as a prodigy by most people for knowing so much at such a young age. They would throw a big fuss and you’d get a lot of attention. More importantly, you’d get a second chance. A chance to do something you did wrong the first time around right. Maybe not drop out of high school that time around?”
“Are those the only two options?”
“No. There is a third. The third option is that you could take over the body of someone who recently died. In fact, the next person to die assuming it isn’t because of a bullet to their head. Anything that can reasonably be bounced back from. This could be someone two years old that got sick or someone eighty-seven who’s just had a heart attack. You would retain your memories and theirs. It would be very confusing at first but the other person wouldn’t be present. No crazy outer limits stuff involving two brains would occur. Once you get into the rhythm of stuff it would be just like you’d always been in that life. The persons brain would be yours to access and simple stuff like ‘Where do I work?’ would be very easy to recall. Repressed stuff wouldn’t be.”
“Option one seems kind of like passing up an amazing opportunity.”
“That’s because it is.”
“Option two sounds interesting but I am not sure I would want the attention. I got enough attention in my last life.”
“So you’ve decided then?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
-----
Marcus is a thirty-one year old bank executive. His life is full of numbers and deceit. His job is to make the high interest on his bank’s loans seem low. It isn’t his fault they are high. The interest rates themselves are high because of the current economy. Most people don’t understand that though. They only understand that 11.6 percent is high. And it is.
Margret is a twenty-two year old messenger. Her life is full of traffic. She works at the local parcel delivery station. Every day she goes to work and grabs a package. Every day she delivers said package. She repeats this almost one hundred times a day. She drives a nice motorcycle that she weaves in and out of traffic with a very fine-tuned level of skill. She has never had a wreck and she has never fallen off her bike.
Marcus runs across the street without looking because he is late for work. Margret speeds through the green light because it is green. They collide. Marcus is killed on impact as Margret is thrown from her bike nearly ten feet and lands ungracefully on her face. Suddenly the world stops moving.
“Pick,” Death says to the woman.
“I have to pick between those two? You said the next to die. Why do I have to pick?”
“Well technically I should just make you take Marcus’s body and be done with it, however, since they died at almost the same time I decided that maybe I should allow you to pick. Oh, here they come.”
Margret and Marcus appear in front of them. The look of horror in their eyes tells the woman that they have just seen themselves dead. They walk towards the woman and Death.
“Hello,” Death says, greeting them.
“Am I dead?” The man asks.
“Yes,” Death answers.
“Guess that means that I am dead too huh?” the woman asks in turn.
“Yes, sorry,” Death replies.
“What now then?” the man asks.
“Well, because of reasons too long to explain this woman here will be taking over one of your bodies. She will live out your life until you die again. You two will be ushered off into the afterlife you held belief of during life while she lives out the rest of your life.”
“Any afterlife that we believed in?” The woman asks, obviously shocked.
“Yes, Margret Singer, High Priestess of the Dancing Wolf coven. You will be taken to the Goddess’s cauldron from wince you came,” Death replies to an astonished face.
“And me?” Marcus asks.
“You, Marcus Smith, will be shown to the gates of Heaven and face judgment by the guardians of heaven. If deemed worthy then you will be allowed entrance,” Death says in a lovely, saddening tone.
“And she will live on in one of our places while we continue into the afterlife?” Margret asks.
“That is correct Margret. Now, can you guys help her decide which of you has a more rewarding life?” Death asks, obviously eager to go.
“Well. I was a banker. I handled loans and the like for my bank. I made about 87K a year and had a fairly nice apartment that always felt like it needed something more. I spent most of my money on partying with people I hardly knew. I was a Christian as you most likely figured out and I think I had a pretty nice and rewarding life. I’ve never been married and I have no kids.” Marcus tells the woman.
“My life was good,” Margret starts, “at least I think so. I was a Wiccan high priestess. My coven is about 25 strong and worships the Goddess in all her forms. I held very strong beliefs in the craft. I married my husband at the age of eighteen and had a daughter at 19. Her name is Stacy and she is three years old. My husband’s name was Thomas and he worked for BFI at the dump. We made a combined income of about 37K a year. I wouldn’t trade my life for another any day.”
“So,” Deaths says after a minute of silence, “have you decide then?”
“Yes, I have. Marcus here seems to have a dream life. He is making the big dollars and having a good time. Margret has it hard. She is working hard and trying to take care of her kid that she had at such a young age. However all Marcus could talk about is his job while Margret instantly focused on her friends, coven and family. I’d much rather have Margret’s life.” The woman declares.
Death smiles at the woman in a kind way.
“I think you’ve made the right choice. I am glad death taught you something,” Death's voice says as it fades away.
The woman, Margret, wakes up with blood all around her. Her face is bleeding badly and there are paramedics on the scene. One of them jumps back in surprise when she starts laughing. She is simply happy to be alive but that doesn’t make it any less creepy to see a person declared dead laughing. They get her onto a stretcher and push her into the back of the ambulance.
“Good luck Marcus,” the woman whispers and the doors of the ambulance shut out the world, “good luck with everything and thank you for the help.”