Prologue
The Next Great Adventure
"To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure." Truly a fantastic quote, I have to agree; it speaks to the finality of man and our lives as a whole, or some other philosophical thought. Great quote. I'd feel much more introspective if I weren't staring down at my own body, mangled and bloody. I want to scream out, yell at the top of my lungs—I don't know, something—but I can't. I can't feel, I can't speak, I can't smell, I can't taste. The only thing I can do is stare without end as they announce me dead at the scene, my corpse seared into whatever's left of my brain.
How long have I been here? I honestly can't remember how many times the sun has set and risen over and over again. I don't even know how many days have gone by, weeks have gone by. Time seems to move in a blur faster than I can comprehend, yet at the same time, it's almost as if it's standing still as if I've been waiting an eternity. There has been no bright light, no staircase to heaven. No pit has opened up beneath me, dragging my very soul down to the depths of hell. No ferry to ride on, no scale to judge, no very hot woman with a crown of black thorns, no reaper to well reap me. My fate may truly well be to stay here, stuck for all time, standing, staring down at a body that has long been moved.
And then I blinked.