His name was Jonathan Myers and his death was spectacularly common in its elements.
A rainy day. A speeding car. A Less than attentive driver. The blare of horns.
For a moment, time seems to freeze as the Englishman sees his impending doom in the shape of a semi-trailer charging towards him from the side. He could see the horrified shock on the face of the other driver, the man's mouth open and moving, screaming something.
Jonathan feels his hands tighten around the wheel, his feet stomp down on the accelerator.
Not that it does anything.
The screech of tyres is followed by the crunch of steel. He feels himself flung to the side, only jerked back by the restraint of his seatbelt. Something smacks against the side of head. Darkness.
He wakes again, his vision blurry, his body cold, and every breath feeling like knives in his chest.
Thankfully, it doesn't last long.
The last sounds that he hears as the darkness creeps in from the edges of his vision were the muted whine of sirens in the distance and the absurdly loud pitter patter of rain that seemed to echo in his ears.
Truly nothing surprising. Just another statistic.
Then again, it's not his death that's interesting.
It's what comes after.