"So, this is dying." Randy Orton thought, his focus was now blaring. "It's
not so bad."
Truth was, it wasn't. The pain he'd felt after the blast had been unbearable and when he reailsed that the paramedics wouldn't be there for awhile, he began begging for death. Now here it was. His eye sight may be fading, but his sense of smell was hightened. He could smell almost everything that was burning inside the club, even human flesh and the though alone churned his stomach. He could smell oil that had been split on the road months before, that was embedded deep in the tarmac. It was almost like being a superhero. Randy had been focusing on the flames that engulfed the club, but now it was just an orange haze. The skin on one side of his face was badly burnt, but the pain was gone. He really was dying. From somewhere behind him he saw blue lights flash, but the sound of the sirens never reached his ears. He did, however, smell the rubber of the paramedics gloves and the antiseptic that the bandages where soaked in. He faintly wondered what had happened. He remember walking up to the club, reaching the door then suddenly been thrown back with intense heat biting at him, glass and other sharp nasty things sticking in him. The flames where gone now and Randy would of though he had eventually gone, but he could smell the cheap cologne a paramedic was wearing. The blackness was the sky, he wished he could see the stars.
"There are people still in there." He thought. "In the club. Why hasn't my life flashed before my eyes?"
Another smell came towards him, he couldn't quiet place it. It was more like, pain. Then he saw her. She was standing above him. Dressed all in black , and he reminded him of someone. Her name was Emma Watson and six months ago Randy had dumped her. He hadn't seen her since. Funny how this women looked like her. She was on her knees right next to him
"You are dying." She said. There was no emotion in her voice and Randy noticed her eyes where black. "And for all your sins you shall be punished. There is no white light because you are not going up there."
"I'm going to hell." Randy thought. But why? He hadn't been that bad, had he? Who was this Emma look-a-like anyway? and why could Randy see her so perfectly? He wondered what had ever happened to Emma. She dragged him up with a hard tug and he took the oppotunity to look around. His eye sight had returned to normal and the club still burnt. Then he saw himself, lying on the ground, his mouth open and his face charred and burnt. The look-a- like was still there, watching, waiting for him.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"I am no longer named, marked by your kind. I am a Shadow Walker."
"What's that?"
"A walker of the shadows.I was once human and I made a pact."
"Who with?"
"The devil. This is what I became. A Shadow Walker."
"Is that like, an evil angel of death?" Randy asked.
"Tonight it is. Tomorrow I may be something different. Come with me Randy Orton. It waits for no-one."
Truth was, it wasn't. The pain he'd felt after the blast had been unbearable and when he reailsed that the paramedics wouldn't be there for awhile, he began begging for death. Now here it was. His eye sight may be fading, but his sense of smell was hightened. He could smell almost everything that was burning inside the club, even human flesh and the though alone churned his stomach. He could smell oil that had been split on the road months before, that was embedded deep in the tarmac. It was almost like being a superhero. Randy had been focusing on the flames that engulfed the club, but now it was just an orange haze. The skin on one side of his face was badly burnt, but the pain was gone. He really was dying. From somewhere behind him he saw blue lights flash, but the sound of the sirens never reached his ears. He did, however, smell the rubber of the paramedics gloves and the antiseptic that the bandages where soaked in. He faintly wondered what had happened. He remember walking up to the club, reaching the door then suddenly been thrown back with intense heat biting at him, glass and other sharp nasty things sticking in him. The flames where gone now and Randy would of though he had eventually gone, but he could smell the cheap cologne a paramedic was wearing. The blackness was the sky, he wished he could see the stars.
"There are people still in there." He thought. "In the club. Why hasn't my life flashed before my eyes?"
Another smell came towards him, he couldn't quiet place it. It was more like, pain. Then he saw her. She was standing above him. Dressed all in black , and he reminded him of someone. Her name was Emma Watson and six months ago Randy had dumped her. He hadn't seen her since. Funny how this women looked like her. She was on her knees right next to him
"You are dying." She said. There was no emotion in her voice and Randy noticed her eyes where black. "And for all your sins you shall be punished. There is no white light because you are not going up there."
"I'm going to hell." Randy thought. But why? He hadn't been that bad, had he? Who was this Emma look-a-like anyway? and why could Randy see her so perfectly? He wondered what had ever happened to Emma. She dragged him up with a hard tug and he took the oppotunity to look around. His eye sight had returned to normal and the club still burnt. Then he saw himself, lying on the ground, his mouth open and his face charred and burnt. The look-a- like was still there, watching, waiting for him.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"I am no longer named, marked by your kind. I am a Shadow Walker."
"What's that?"
"A walker of the shadows.I was once human and I made a pact."
"Who with?"
"The devil. This is what I became. A Shadow Walker."
"Is that like, an evil angel of death?" Randy asked.
"Tonight it is. Tomorrow I may be something different. Come with me Randy Orton. It waits for no-one."