note I own nothing but my character and the story line. all rights to their respected owners.
John sat at home watching Netflix, enjoying a new favorite of his.
The show was called RWBY.
"I am so glad no one is home." He said to himself as he went to the
kitchen for a snack, pausing the show. His parents went out of town to
visit a family friend and he had opted to stay home. "I can watch all
the anime I want and nobody can take away the TV!" He yelled in
victory as he pumped his fist into the air. He came back to the couch
with a bowl of chips and a massive grin.
John watched RWBY late into the night and by the time it was done he
was thoroughly pleased that he had stumbled a crossed such a gem. "Ah
man! What a great show. I'll go look for season three tomorrow." He
mumbled as he shambled off to his room.
He pushed his textbooks off his bed and plopped down hard. He didn't
bother changing and just took off his shirt and wriggled under the
covers. He was soon fast asleep.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! John rolled over and slammed his fist down on
the diabolical machine. It collided with the alarm clock with a
satisfying thud. "High school." He groaned as he got out of bed. What
a great way to ruin such a great dream.
In his dream, John had been attending the halls of beacon. He had
spent the day hanging out with team RWBY and JNPR. He had attended
class with the hunters and huntresses like it was normal. They even
beat up Cardin. But then school had to happen.
He walked down the hall to the bathroom and looked in the mirror.
There were dark bags around his brown eyes. His black hair was
standing in the front, making it look like he was wearing a helmet.
He plucked one and measured it. Inch and a half. He was good for now.
He tossed a towel onto the sink and got into the shower. It took him
a good 45 minutes to wash, given his body type.
John was tall for his age. At 15 years old, he stood at 6'2 and
weighed in at only 150 pounds. His mom used to try to make him go as
a skeleton for Halloween, but he never agreed to it. Even thought he
had a body some could only try to achieve, he was unsatisfied. He
often stubbed his toe Because of his size, not to mention the
accidental head butts with trees. He was fast, sure, but he didn't have
to much strength.
But he did like his skin color. A lot of time in the sun, and a
combination of bloodline, had given him a permanent tan. He liked how
the skin was the same tone as the soil in the backyard, giving him a
natural feeling.
He turned off the water and got out. After a quick towel off and
change of clothes, he collected his things in his bag and proceeded to
the garage for his bike. The school was only a few miles away, so he
had to leave pretty early.
As he sped away to school John's thoughts drifted away to the show he
was watching last night. As he waited for the light to change, he
mused on what could happen next.
Green light. He started to cross the road, RWBY still on his mind. It
wasn't until it was to late that he noticed he wasn't the only one
distracted.
There was a loud crash and a massive blunt force from his right. Less
than a tenth of a second later he was skidding across the asphalt. He
could feel the muscle and skin being shaved off his body. His legs
were hopelessly tangled in bike.
Time Slowed down. Once the world stopped spinning John's watery eyes
finally took in the sight of what had hit him. A platinum colored van
was speeding towards him. In the driver seat was a long haired blond
woman, eyes open in shock. She had her phone in her hand, obviously in
the middle of a text.
John had less than a second to live. He wanted to dodge, but he knew
it was impossible. I knew I hated those things for a reason. He
thought with a cruel sense of humor right before he was ran over.
He stood next to the scene, looking down on his body. Man that looks
ugly. After John had died he had woke up by the side of the road.
There was police rope blocking off the scene. His bike laid to the
side, crushed.
A police man came over to the men cleaning up John's remains. "I just
got off the phone with his parents." He said.
Oh? John walked over to the group. He wanted to hear this.
"They were out of town at the time, and there on the way home now."
Well, that's to be expected. "We're being ordered to take the body to
the station." The body guys nodded, lifting up the bag and putting it
in the back of an ambulance. A little bit away cops were putting the
blonde in the back of a squad car. She was visibly in tears, her phone
still clutched in her hand.
John didn't blame her. He should be angry. He should be screaming at
her. He aught to be plotting his undead revenge. But he wasn't. He
wasn't even sad.
Should have seen it coming. He told himself. Besides, what uses is a
grudge now? As soon as he thought this, a glowing ball of light
appeared over his left shoulder. He knew what it was.
John stood up. He looked at the light. He had done a lot of bad
things in his life. He was a thief, and a good one too. So why did it
appear?
No matter. John thought. I'll just ask the man himself. He reached
for the light, then hesitated. He looked over his shoulder, his
sadness finally becoming apparent. I'm sorry. He thought. Then he
touched the light.
It was instantaneous. One moment he felt a fuzzy sensation in his
hand, the next it was like his body was being stretched and he was
being sucked through a soda straw. Harry Potter. Was the only thought
that went though his head as he was pulled upwards.
The next second John stood in a blinding white room. He squinted his
eyes, he blocked his eyes with his hand. It took some time for his
eyes to adjust.
In the middle of the room sat a long table laden with food. At the
table sat a group of people that could only be described as those of
the bible. An old man sat closest to him, a weathered staff leaning
against his chair. He must be Noah. There was a handsome man, rather
short, that sat rather proudly. David maybe? There was a number more
people who sat there who he couldn't name, but he could make a guess
on who was at the head of the table.
He sat on the blandest of chairs, just a plain wooden chair. It
looked old. He had on a flowing white robe and a circuit made of some
plant on his head. Vine? Holy? John didn't know. Noir did he have to
know.
Jesus was the only one who seemed to notice John's arrival. The others
were either talking or eating. Not sure what to do, John sat down on
the floor. This made Jesus raise an eyebrow.
"What are you doing?" He asked. There was a kind patience in his voice.
"Sitting." John replied simply.
"Why don't you come sit at the table, like so many before you?" The god asked.
"Because it's your table. I figured I would need permission to sit
with a God." Jesus gestured to a chair and John took it.
"Most people believe they have a right to be in heaven as soon as
they make it this far. But you don't. Why?" John looked him in the
eye. There was no fear in them.
"Because this is a test. I doubt that you would let me in because I'm
on the list. I'm not a devoted follower. And I've committed a lot of
crime in my day. So there is something I don't know going on. So I
reasoned that you have a reason."
Jesus looked at him intently. "You interest me. So I will give you a
choice. You can go to the promised land of heaven and live in
happiness, or be granted one wish, and one wish only." He waited
patiently for the answer. He didn't have to wait long.
"When do I get to go?" John said.
