The surroundings vanished around Wally and he was sucked into what appeared to be a black hole.
He shouted through the darkness, not really expecting a reply. "What happened?"
"You died." A deep booming voice drowned.
"What are you talking about?" He slightly stuttered.
"You saw the body, correct?"
"That wasn't me. It must have been another Wally." He stumbled over his words.
"Denial."
"Well then, if I am dead, then how come I was at the tree house, living?"
"You weren't."
"Yes I was! I was walking and everything."
"Actually, you were more of a walking spirit."
"You mean I was a ghost?"
"You could say that, I suppose."
"Then that means. . . Am I in Hell?"
"No."
"Heaven?"
"No."
"Limbo?"
"No."
"Then where am I?"
"This is where the spirits come when they aren't supposed to be dead yet."
"Huh?"
"You get a second chance to live."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that you will be brought back to life and sent two days before your death. If you can solve your murder, then you're free to live. You have three chances to survive. If after the third time you are killed, you will be trully dead."
The meaning of the words hit Wally. "But how am I supposed to solve my own murder before it happens?"
But the voice didn't reply. The darkness began diminishing until Wally was back in the tree house, sitting on his wresting arena. The clock read 5:27 a.m. on Friday.