"Hello, there." The words come gently to his ears.

"Hello, I said."

"Yes," he thinks, "I heard you"

"Oh, well that's good." The voice seemed satisfied somewhat. At least it had stopped talking for a moment. It had finally, thankfully stopped talking, not that it was a bad voice or harsh to the ear, quite the opposite in fact. It was sweet and even sounded caring almost, he thinks, but it had just been talking for so long… hadn't it? No not really, that is he doesn't think so… think… when it answered before, he hadn't said anything, couldn't say anything, he can't see, move… can't move… can't breathe! The thoughts come faster and faster as he feels panic setting in. "where am I," he screams in his head "why can't I move, what is going on?" he tries to resist the terror rising inside but he can't. So many questions flood his mind. Is it his mind? Does he have a mind? Why can't he move? Breathe? Talk? Could this be…?

"You're silly," the voice was back "of course it's your mind, well okay, mostly anyway. Oh, and the answer is yes" he still can't move. Thought is the only way he can communicate it seems, the fear was beginning to subside with the voices return and he can begin to reason things out, he thinks.

"Okay, thinking is good; I do it all the time. I mean y'know if that's how you like to talk. Oh, yeah I guess it's just how you do stuff. All thinky like I mean, that's not how the other one did stuff. He was tougher I think, he didn't cry or nothin' either"

"I didn't cry" his thought sounded almost offended, if such a thing is possible. The voice was speaking easily now and in familiar terms, why? He was certain he didn't recognize it. It was a child, no, a woman, neither, both? His musings are again interrupted.

"Yeah you did." The voice stated matter-of-factly "You cried; he didn't. He was tougher I think." Seemingly as an after thought the voice added "you're tough too though, he was just tougher, don't be ashamed or anythin'"

"I'm not" he thinks indignantly, "and he's not tougher…forget it, I don't even know who we're talking about. God, we aren't even talking! What's going on?! Could this be…?"

"Yes." The voice answers before he can begin another mental tidal wave of questions. "Open your eyes please, its time to go now." At that panic sets in again and again takes hold of him.

"What do you mean, I can't even see let alone go anywhere," it takes a moment for him to think and then. "Yes what?"

"Yes is the answer to your question. And the only reason you can't see is cause you don't think you can." Comes the voices calm reply.

"What question?" he manages, the fear again rising in his breast.

"Most of them actually, but this time I was talking about the big one." The voice goes silent for a moment before saying, "yes, that's the one."

"Which one? I don't know what you mean? Which big one?"

The voice seems almost irritated now but somehow still completely at ease, "you know already. I don't need to tell you what you already know."

"What? What do I know? What do I…" he trailed off, "could…" he choked on the words as if attempting to keep them from escaping his throat, "could this be…death?"

"Yes, you died. And now we have to go, open your eyes please." The voice had regained its satisfied tone. "I'm glad you understand; it took a real long time for the other one to accept it."

"Wait! I didn't accept anything! I don't want to die! I don't want to die!"

The voice was irritated again, "you don't have any choice, you already died and anyway whining to me won't bring you back. Now quit crying and open your eyes please."

"I won't, I won't open my eyes, I won't go with you. You can't make me." His thoughts come furious, no longer questioning but instead defying the will of this voice. This enemy he couldn't see.

"We aren't enemies, and yes I can too make you." The voice sounded disappointed now maybe even a bit sad. Its words came a bit slower now as though it was choosing them very carefully. "I would very much like for us to be friends you know."

He would have jumped at this if he could move, not from the words themselves so much as the decidedly feminine tone that the voice had adopted when saying them, remembering what he was speaking to brought him back to the matter at hand, "no thanks, I really just don't think I want a spooky death voice as a friend."

"I'm not what you think, you know. I mean I don't have to be." The voices tone was… hell he didn't know what the hell the voices tone was. It was something unusual but somehow familiar, somehow vulnerable. He opened his eyes.

The landscape surrounding him was nothing. It seemed completely unreal; there was no endless white, no inky void, no heaven, no hell just nothing. And he was just standing there, in the middle of this nothing, on nothing. His mind threatened to shut down from sheer lack of comprehension.

"Don't worry, it won't shut down," the voice reassured him "though technically I guess it did already, sorry." He noticed then that for the first time the voice seemed to come from somewhere, it sounded as though it was coming from behind him. He turned slowly expecting, well, not having any idea what to expect. And suddenly he found himself flooded by real unreality. Standing before him was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, and yet he couldn't describe her beyond that. Her features were delicate and exquisite yet filled with a strength he couldn't explain. Her clothing seemed simple and plain yet if he stared too long it seemed almost as if he could see the entire cosmos at once. And her eyes, her eyes were dark and longing. They seemed sad and joyous and pitying and pitiful and caring and hateful and loving and everything else in between all at once. Everything about her seemed to contradict itself over and over 'til it spun round and round inside his head like a mad carrousel. When finally he could bring himself to speak he asked in the boldest voice he could manage.

"You're death?" His voice cracked and sounded, he felt, as though it hadn't been used in a very long time.

"Not too long" the voice turned woman said softly, "come now we have to go." Suddenly she seemed full of energy and rushed to him quickly, so quickly that he was scarcely certain he saw her move at all. She wrapped her arms around him tight, and it felt wonderful, her embrace was warm and loving and in her arms he finally felt safe. He hadn't truly felt safe in so long. Even before any of this…before…his death…

"I don't want to die." He told her, he tried to tell her. She spoke now and her voice made his seem somehow nonexistent.

"You're some of my favorites you know." She said almost happily

"But I don't want… what do you mean some?" He could not stop himself from asking the question though he was fairly certain that he wouldn't like the answer he would receive.

"You, the one that was here before you and the ones who are coming after. I love you." The woman smiled. It was both full of hope and at the same time completely joyless.

The woman's answer shocked him, she loved him? Death loved him? He was dead and death was a woman and death loved him?

"All of you." She replied to his questions, questions he had asked only in his mind, still smiling. "And you love me too, you all do."

"We don't! I don't! How could I love death?!" he found himself shouting at her. The look in her eyes was almost hurt, almost.

"You are in love with me, can't you see it? You search for me every night in alleyways, abandoned warehouses, city rooftops, on the streets and in the darkest places of your own soul. You must see it, you're obsessed with me, you long for me, with every breath you take your desire grows stronger, you fairly worship me." The woman was suddenly bold, confidant for the first time she seemed not a contradiction but a declaration. She was right; she knew she was right, more importantly he knew she was right. And yet…

"I don't want to die; I have a life waiting for me to finish it." It seemed to him somehow a weak argument though he wasn't sure why, the woman was kind enough to show him.

"You HAD a life," she stated emphatically "you did finish it, its far away and gone now, all that's waiting for you there is the worms who'll digest you once you're buried. Oh, and this," suddenly a torrent of pain engulfed him; wounds spontaneously tore themselves open across his entire body. His bones fractured, his flesh lacerated, and all that he could do was scream, and bleed. "This is how you lived," called the woman "this is how you died, and this is all that you will have in life. Pain is all that life has ever offered you." Her voice was even and calm and cold as clay.

"AAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!" his screams of pain echoed in the nothingness for what felt like lifetimes before she finally let him be. He collapsed to his knees gasping for breath.

"There's no point to that, there's no air here. Besides you're not even hurt, stand up please." The woman's voice was soft and sweet again though still as cold as it ever had been.

"Wuh…why…?" He gasped, seemingly unaffected by her assurance that there was no air for him to be gasping.

"Because you need to understand, you're here now, you've found me. The one who was here before found me in Ethiopia and you found me at home. But it's all the same, he's with me now and so are you. Do you understand, you don't have to look for me anymore you understand?" If she had shown any signs of genuine feelings he would almost think she was pleading. Almost.

"Yes," he said, standing now, "I understand." Before he could even think he was running, running into nothing and away from her, all he could think was that he had to get away. Faster and faster he ran, or tried to, with no landscape it was difficult to judge whether he was moving at all, until he looked back. The woman wasn't chasing him, in fact she had barely shifted her position at all, she seemed miles and miles away. Suddenly he felt as if the ground beneath his feet was giving way. Looking below he still saw nothing but he couldn't afford to stop and figure it out, his first and only instinct was to jump. He jumped into the nothing and fell forever, spinning and tumbling and spiraling down until he scattered into a million, million pieces. The woman stared blankly toward the direction in which he had run, with perhaps just a bit of a frown on her face and the slightest hint of pride in her voice she quietly mused to herself

"He was tougher, I think, yes… I think he was."

He's blind again, this time his entire body is racked with pain. He feels the ground below him now, all too solid, and wet. He is lying in something wet.

"Hello? Are you there?" The voice again? No, this time the person is familiar. "Hello? Are you there? Answer me God damn it!" It sounds mechanical, fuzzy, like the voice is coming through a radio earpiece.

"Ora...gh...al?" he pleads to the air. His words choked by the blood beginning to pool in his throat. He hears a gasp from the earpiece.

"Oh thank God," the voice in his ear sounds relieved and terrified at the same time, "yes its Oracle, its Barbara, thank God your alive, your locater beacon is still working I've sent someone to get you, hold on okay? Can you do that for me, Tim?"