Many people say that dying is like falling asleep or lying down to rest, the only difference being that you don't get back up. Maybe they theorize a sinking sensation or something like floating away in a gently flowing river, their body washing up on the shores the property of any deity they might believe in.
Alfred, before any harrowing or destructive experience that the current small child and colony was doomed to have later in life (or in Alfred's case, only a few weeks of innocence before his mind was taken over by thoughts of danger and fears, a paranoid sense that he kept to this current day), had thought that it would be rather like a ride on Arthur's shoulders- free and only chained by the feelings and people down below. Of all the theories Alfred had heard besides the ones shared to him by the others, his childhood fantasy was by far the most accurate, as if irony was trying to hit him in the face at full speed.
Usually, the experience was not unlike riding a rollercoaster- your gut seemed to contort inside you uncomfortably, and for Alfred, an irrational and looming fear would set in and cloud your brain. He knew that every single time he;d died, the man had cried every one of them. Of pain, fear for himself, fear for others… the list of reasons and explanations was long, but nowhere near the number of times he'd felt the sensation and had slipped away.
The ride was easier when you had less regrets. During his colony days, his memory of them was fuzzy at best- maybe a moment here and there, a feeling, an image… that was it. But even during the revolution, his memory was sharper. He remembered being burned. He remembered being shot. He remembered the moment he'd felt his vision going black. Ever since the late 1700's, his recollection was razor-sharp. Even twinge of pain, every tear, every bystander…
And it was painful. So, so painful. He'd replay every regret he'd had, his head spinning, until finally he blacked out.
But… this was something he'd never experienced before. He'd drowned, been shot in the heart, overdosed… but when he woke up pinned under an airplane wing with Matthew and Francis on either side of him, trying to lift it off of him, he felt different. There wasn't one regret he could think of. Actually… he couldn't think of anything. What was going on..?
A bring light. He saw a bright light. What..? "...M-Matt…" he manage, his eyes half-lidded.
"A-Alfred-!"
But he was already traveling beyond where they could reach.
Chapters will be longer, but this is just the prologue. Please follow, favorite, and review!
-Pani