Author Notes
Hi everyone,
This is my first story- comments are welcome, please let me know what you liked and what you liked to see change, I don't promise to do it but I promise to Consider your comments seriously.
English is not my native tongue so please let me know about any mistakes you find, If you interested in betaing this story please let me know.
More than you bargained for
prologue- baby steps.
Hello, my name is Liam MacLeod and I'm dead.
I'm also crazy, but that has nothing to do with it.
I was a mad hatter before I died, so I can't tell you if death causes madness though I have my suspicions regarding this particular issue. But I'm not qualified to have an opinion on the matter because I'm not a psychologist, I'm an electrician, and I'm not even a good one, case in point, my death.
Death is a slightly confusing experience, I would suggest you avoid it, but you have no choice. Either you get electrocuted or you get crushed or burned, the world is just full of all those unexpected little dangers.
ironically I don't remember anything about it, I just remember waking up in a dark little place wrapped in cloth like some second-rate mummy from a third-rate horror movie so like a fourth-rate actor from some kind of Hollywood knockoff movie I knocked on the walls. Don't expect any more numbers, I don't remember them, it's a common side effect when you come back to life. Not that that's what the doctors said, no, after all, we're in the 21st century, they called it Experientia-Mortalitatem which is probably a fancy term for I don't know what the hack it is and it's defined as a state in which the body simulates a state of death, both the brain and all the functions of the body are stopped and even the temperature drops and the skin discolour in that lovely postmortem purplish-red hue. Since I returned they have started giving bodies three days in a monitored coffin to see if the person is undisputedly dead. If I am not mistaken I am still the only documented case in history. Sometimes I wonder what scientists need to see to believe in miracles or a higher power. Maybe some rotting corpse that would suddenly return to her youth, after all the splitting of the red sea is still explained as a fairy tale at worst or a series of earthquakes at bast, well my Nanna always said that timing is half the charm.
After I got back, I was still a little shocked, so I went to all sorts of people to tell me what the hell went on, or rather why I went on and back again.
I went to the Jews, they claimed that God brought me back to life to prove to us that he is omnipotent and that resurrection is not a myth and it is upon us. But if he is all-mighty, why would he bother to prove anything to us?
I went to the Christians and they claimed that as opposed to the sacrifice of Christ the holy spirit deemed that my time of sacrifice is not yet upon me. But I'm not a good sacrifice and if I've gotten there why bother sending me back?
The Muslims claimed that I was from the holy line of the prophet and that Allah had revived me so that I would lead a worldwide war against the infidels. For some reason, I didn't feel any sudden urges for mass murder.
The Buddhists claimed that I had achieved Bodhi, so I was reborn in a state of perfect enlightenment. I'm not sure I understood them.
But all these existential questions aren't that important right now, no, what's important is that after I came back to life I found that I had nothing to my name, no bank account, no assets, no equipment, even the clothes on my back are some hand-me-down that I got from the hospital's lost and found department. My suggestion? Don't die while you have an active loan at the bank - the ink was barely dry on my death certificate and the bank had already foreclosed my assets and sold all of them to repay the loan. It did not matter that the death certificate was revoked and the government recognized me as alive, no, did not matter at all! and that because of a little something called the Market overt law, in lamest terms, which are the only terms I understand, From the moment my assets were sold to all the who's who then all those who's who got them legally and I can not have them back, or the money value for that matter, even if the deal was made because of the mistaken assumption that I am pushing daisies.
So I have nothing except the clothes I wear, I am hungry and from the second I came back I have this strange feeling that I can feel emanating from other people which is annoying me as much as that scratch between the shoulder blades I can't reach.
what am I supposed to do now?