It was like I was flying. Everything felt amazing for a split second or a year, I couldn't tell. I was just floating through nothingness. Things was finally calm. And quiet.
And then it wasn't. It was like needles were pinching me all over my body. It was like they kept digging further and further into my skin.
I hadn't taken a breath through this entire very trippy experience, but all of a sudden I felt myself breathing. I drew in a loud gasp and broke the surface of the water.
I looked down and realised I was in my tub. And I wasn't laying in water. I was laying in my own blood.
Memories came flooding back to me, stunning me. I had come home from yet another day at my shitty office job, finally realising there was no point anymore. There was no point in me living anymore, so I had found the sharp knife I had gotten myself for Christmas last year.
It was part of a set of really good vegetable cutting knives. The blades were black. They had been expensive. I thought it was poetic. 'Cut the emotional vegetable with the vegetable knives.'
It didn't look poetic now, my wrists slashed open and still oozing blood. I had to drag myself out of the tub, my legs feeling incredibly numb.
I was still gasping for air, water gushing out of my mouth. I grasped the side of the tub, trying hard to stay on my feet.
I was supposed to be dead. Judging from my complexion I was probably dead. I was deadly pale. I wasn't normally deadly pale. My mum was black. I was the opposite of pale! But I was pale now. Or as pale as I could be. Ashen.
"It's a nice place you've got," someone said, startling the everliving shite out of me.
I fell down on my ass, screaming my head off.
A guy was sitting on my toilet, his feet on the lid, his ass parked on the cistern, all dressed in black.
He ran his hand through his hair and smiled a bit at me. "I guess it must be terribly confusing for you. Last thing you remember is you dramatically slitting your wrists and now here you are, waking up to some rando sitting on your toilet."
I pulled my legs up to my chest, panting hard. I was terrified. I still held my arms away from me, the vertical gashes on my wrists almost screaming for attention.
He jumped off the toilet and started towards me. I tried to push my back as far against the wall as I possibly could, trying to make myself as small as possible.
This was a nightmare and I'd wake up in a minute. It was all just a nightmare. I clenched my eyes shut, but then I felt him close to me. I opened my eyes and met the gaze of the stranger. Startling black eyes were staring back at me.
"Well, you're still dead. I can tell you that much. But you've been given a second chance." He sat down in front of me on the white tiled floor and sighed a bit. "I'm here to give you that second chance. You see, Death likes when she's welcomed with open arms. When someone truly wishes to die, she notices it. And sometimes, she wants to give people a second chance. People like you, Aura. You don't have to be afraid anymore. Your old life... It's over."
I brushed some of my wet hair out of my face and sniffled a bit. I don't know why it was a relief that I was still death. I still wanted to not be here anymore.
"I don't... I don't want a second chance," I whispered.
"And that's why you're getting one."
"Who are you?"
"I'm the one who follows through on those promises of second chances. Whether they like them or not." He grabbed my hand and hauled me to my feet, my legs no longer numb. I could feel warmth pulsing from his hand down into my arm.
He drew me close, his hot breath dancing on my cheeks. "We'll form a circle. Because everything always goes in circles," he murmured softly. He smiled and then bent down a bit.
His breath hit my throat and his hands landed on my upper arms. He brought his wrist to his mouth and bit down on it, leaving four perfectly round puncture holes.
Black blood started spilling from the holes and he brought his wrist to my mouth.
"Drink it," he said softly.
I wrinkled my nose and shook my head.
He put two fingers in my mouth and forced it open.
"Seriously, drink it!" he growled. He pressed his wrist to my mouth and I tasted the warm blood on my tongue.
It tasted like rust. Like the water at my old primary school where all the pipes were so rusty, it made water taste like metal.
He moved his head down again and bit down on my throat. I could barely feel it. My own pulse thumping in my ears was drowning everything. It was maddening but also liberating. I could feel myself get warmer. I had never felt this alive. I also felt a weird sensation in my teeth.
The stranger let go of me and leaned me against the wall. I ran my tongue over my teeth and realised two on each side had grown into fangs, one was longer than the other, but both were pointy.
"Take a minute. Then we have to go. We can't have anyone walking in on us."
"I don't have anyone who'll miss me. No one will come looking for me," I murmured with a slurred voice.
"Regardless, we need to move." He took my hand in his and hauled me out of the bathroom. He took me down the elevator, the jazz music in it comical. Here I was, standing with a complete stranger who just told me I was dead. And I had topped myself.
I looked down at my wrists again. The sores looked better at least. I tugged on my wet cardigan-sleeves, trying to cover them up.
"They'll turn into scars in a couple of days. They won't disappear though."
I glanced up at the stranger. "Who are you?"
The elevator announced our arrival to the ground floor and we made our way through the lobby and ended up on the street. It was silent and empty. It usually was in the middle of the night. I lived in a pretty peaceful neighbourhood.
"I'm Xipe Totec. People call me Tec. I'm one of Death's deities," the stranger explained a little impatiently.
"Where are you taking me?"
"I'm taking you to your new home. Somewhere where people like you can teach you how to be... Well, what you are now."
"What am I now?" I asked hesitantly.
He stopped and looked down at me with a frown. "You're dead, honey. Drop dead gorgeous," he added with a chuckle and started walking again. I followed him closely.
I still felt weird. Very awake. As if I had popped one of those pills I used to take back in college to help me pull an all-nighter before a deadline. Everything became much brighter and clearer when I just took one of those pills. Now though, I hadn't taken any pills. I had just drank some black blood from Tec's wrist.
Tec stopped and let me catch up to him. I stepped in beside him and we started walking side by side down the street.
"So... No family? No friends?" he asked and glanced down at me.
"No."
"Why? Is it because of your weird name?"
I snorted and shook my head. "Says the one named Scythe Totem."
"Xipe Totec," he corrected sternly. "People everywhere used to know my name. Now all you know is who's famous for being famous."
"I don't watch TV."
"Then tell me, what did you do for fun?" He stopped and looked down at me, burying his hands in his pockets.
"Does it matter?" I asked.
"Hey, just trying to make conversation here. I'm starting to realise why you didn't have any friends."
I didn't reply to that. Instead, I focused on how it didn't feel like I was actually walking on the pavement. I wasn't wearing any shoes, so I should feel the small pebbles from the asphalt dig into the soles of my feet, but I couldn't.
I glanced up at my companion again. He didn't look what I'd imagine a deity to look like. Deities usually looked angelic. He just... Looked normal. Nothing out of the ordinary, really. His hair was cut neatly close to his scalp. His dark eyes were deep and probably the most interesting part of him. His age was indeterminable and so was his race. But he had this warm brown skin colour. It was nice.