'Why me? Why does it always have to be me?' The thought flashed through my head quicker than the speed of light. I sighed, braced myself and lent into the impact. Even so it hurt like hell. Never the one to moan, I clenched my jaw tight, grit my teeth and suppressed a low groan. I straightened up, and right on cue the second button slammed into my chest. This time I couldn't hold on to it any longer, and yelled out, loudly. It was then I decided, too late as usual, to get out of the way. But of course It was too little too late and the third, fourth and fifth bullets entered my torso, all three smashing straight through my clavicle (collar-bone) and erupting from my back. Another yell and the sixth, seventh and finally the eighth smacked into me – this time tearing through my coracoacromial ligament (the tendon that stretches across the shoulder) and embedding themselves into the back of my shoulder. By this time I was on my knees, blood choking my airway, and the gunman stepped up to me, placed his gun to my temple and took a deep breath. Summoning my last reserves of energy, I drew back my fist and slammed my knuckle duster adorned hand into his left kneecap. His piercing scream slashed through the air, and was joined by a gunshot, the bullet from which tore into my left calf as I pushed myself forward. Of course pain flared in the area, but by this time it was so intense from everywhere at once, I had trouble identifying it as pain. As Aristotle once said: "The aim of the wise is not to secure pleasure, but to avoid pain." So that means I'm not wise, but then again if I was wise I wouldn't be here would I? But then again… Oh God this isn't helping is it? Now where was I? Oh yes the pain. The pain, as well as I can explain it, stretched on into the infinity, never stopping, never faltering, impossible to stop or falter, and it lead to what I presume was a coma. The light never left but it wasn't quite there either, and the darkness was the same, neither there nor gone. And there was a sort of swirling mist encompassing both the light and the dark and turning them into Chaos which fluxed out into Harmony. Sparks flittered round in front of my eyes and mingled with each other, each one representing the entire world, and a single atom at the same time. The constant opposition was outstanding and mind-boggling, with it being impossible to comprehend and yet, you guessed it, the simplest thing in the entire universe. In layman's terms it was a paradox and a damn confusing one at that. Some time passed, how much I'm not quite sure, and my attention turned to the television screen that had appeared right before me. It soon turned itself on and started playing my life, from three weeks ago when I had last regenerated, into my current, though not for long, form. I watched it, satisfied with how it portrayed me and began to concentrate, hard.
All of a sudden my eyes snapped open and I breathed my first as my twelfth incarnation. I looked at the shiny floor and gave an almighty laugh. I was ginger.