It's not very often that you die. It's even less often to be saved from dying, by Death himself.

It all began at around 5:30 in the afternoon, sometime in the middle of 2011's winter. I was walking to my good friend Allen's house. Just across the street from my destination, I'd stepped forward.

I was then hit by a car going 130, stuffed full of stolen goods. Contrary to popular belief, you don't just go brain-dead. You go to a place called the Overworld.

Upon contact with said car, I was thrown out into the middle of a battlefield.

Under a red sky, streaked with comets and dotted by stars, giant disproportionate tanks fired round after round at each-other. Fires burst out all around, as if some retard was dancing through an underground methane chamber with a match. Towering man-like beings sprayed fire and explosives at each-other, falling like buildings upon death.

This all took place in only ten seconds, before a much smaller figure, almost like a black cloud, swooped down and dragged me backwards. In the next three seconds, I heard a hissing voice,

"It's about time you showed up."

Earth

I woke up mid-flight, still being push by the car, and sinking down along the curve of the bumper. As my head hit the ground, I blacked out. No space-like wars or anything, just black.

Three hours later, roughly 8:45, I snapped up from a deep sleep.

"-" My brain practically exploded inside my head as I spoke.

I stopped myself and took in my surroundings. I was in a hospital bed, covered in bruises, but nothing more. A small device hooked on my wrist measured my heartbeat with a steady *blip*, and a horribly outdated TV played cartoons.

Outside the doorway, I could see doctors and nurses hustling about, getting medicine and elixirs to patients. Relived that there were people here, I looked to my left, at the corner I hadn't looked at.

I saw Death.

A black cloud with a mask. That's Death. Almost touching the seven-foot ceiling, Death was just standing, staring at me.

I blinked. He didn't go away. I blinked again. Nope.

"So..." I tried to make it seem as though I were talking to myself, "what're you doing here?"

"You saw the reason."

I jolted upright, shocked by an answer.

"You saw Overworld. You got me out of there."

The conversation was briefly interrupted as a nurse walked in, offering me a dinner of soup and a cube of Jello. Trailing just behind her, Death observed her for a second.

"Forty years left for her. How do you manage," It hissed, "to accomplish anything in your lifetimes?"

This was going to be a long night.

Overworld

Order no longer existed. Now, it was brother against brother, a struggle to stay alive. If only the King hadn't found that stupid gem...

Rastamus hurried through the fields, his fiery cloak trailing behind him. Atop his head, his baggy hat threatened to fall. All around him, portals were opening up, showing glimpses of Earth. But he didn't need any old portal; he needed one in particular, at least a hundred strides away.

Suddenly, he heard the crack of a Destroyer's beam. Not taking any chances, he released his power and blazed through the air like a comet, headed straight for a tiny rip in the middle of space.

Just as he reached the rip, he hesitated. This could be his last sight of Overworld, the last time he ever saw his home.

"Ei, mon, wats wit da stopping?" his second self-yelled at him, "Just go through da portal, mon!"

And through the portal he went.

Earth

"Sam, you okay?" Allen had arrived just a few minutes after my awaking the next morning. He checked my wounds, despite being told not to, and asked, "Weren't you hit by a speeding car? There are no bruises, nothing!"

I chuckled, "Luck?"

Death's mask shifted just a little to shoot me a creepy glare.

"Nah, this ain't luck, this is the work of God!"

Death just jumped right out of the corner, lunging straight at Allen. Held by the cloud of darkness and ashes, a scythe had magically appeared.

Allen turned.

"OH-SH" he stopped himself.

It's kind of funny to see a demonic pile of ash leaning right over your best friend, holding a scythe bigger than a human body to his neck.

"God," Death seemed pissed all of a sudden, "Does. Not. Exist. There is no heaven, there is no hell, there is no purgatory, there is no Eden, there is only the Overworld. You," he hissed, pointing at him, "and you," he pointed at me, "exist in both. When you die here, your conscience switches to your body in Overworld, and you experience something like amnesia, and vice versa. How do I know this, human! It's my duty to make sure exactly that happens."

"Samuel, your parents are here to see you!" A nurse cheerfully called into the room.

Three hours later, I was at home, enjoying soup with my family and Allen. My new friend hovered quietly in the corner, staring blankly from the mask.

"I still can't believe," my mom ranted for the hundredth time, "that someone would be so dumb as to run over a kid going 130 AND after stealing money!"

I kept eating.

"Don't you agree, Sam?"

I nodded.

After finishing the soup, I declared, "I'ma go sleep now. Thanks for the company, Allen."

He nodded a "you're welcome."

Midnight, sound asleep, dreaming about a race, with pandas, the usual awkward dream stuff. All interrupted by a freaking Jamaican-speaking flaming cape with a rasta beanie.

"Psst! Mon! Wake up, mon!"

"Oh..." I stared for a second. "Uh..." I was dumbfounded. "You looking for the funny guy with a mask?"

"Ya mon! He be ma brudda from de Overworld!"

Perfect! Another Death.