It felt wrong in so many ways, yet so right in others. Fighting, that was. Fighting for vengeance.
It isn't right. She should be with me. I have failed her and now she is dead.
I had felt on top of the world; nothing could bring me down, and I could beat anyone.
Except I couldn't.
I had died. I remember dying. I remember dying very vividly.
... But then... why am I not... dead?
I remember the fatal bullet piercing through my chest, lodging itself in my lungs, making me suffocate slowly to death, unable to breathe because of the blood filling my lungs.
I remember everything painfully fading into nothingness.
... Yet, here I am, wherever "here" is, anyway.
Where in the hell am I?!
~3rd Person Point of View~
The glow of a soul was the only thing which permeated the blackness of the Afterlife. For hours, it wandered, all alone, until it glowed with a bright light and disappeared, to be reborn anew.