Bullets whizzed past above me as the sounds of screams, gunshots, and explosions were drowned by a disorienting high-pitched sound that assaulted my ears. With a great deal of effort, I lifted my head only to see my lower abdomen wide open, allowing my guts to spill everywhere, and that my left leg and right foot were blown clean off. With a disgruntled groan, I allowed my head to fall backwards against the sand.
Most people would be screaming their guts out by that point, maybe saying the good ol' "my leg!" or "my insides!" but I simply could not find it in me to care; maybe it was the numbing pain coursing through the entirety of my body, maybe I had just accepted that's how things were going to end for me, or perhaps a combination of both.
Or perhaps I never cared to begin with; that was also a possibility considering the fact that I enlisted to be shipped straight to Iraq to fight for my "glorious" country; it's anyone's guess really.
It all started suddenly; in one moment, my squadron and I were patrolling Iraq's Western Desert, and then we saw one of our own on the ground, quite literally screaming his guts out, and then all of a sudden, boom, I was on the ground with all of my internal fluids becoming external fluids at a rapid rate.
Pursing my lips I looked to my side to see one of my fellow soldiers firing at the cloud of dust, only to receive a bullet to the head for his troubles and unceremoniously fall to the ground. At least he went out putting up some form of fight.
My vision started to get darker and blurrier by the second, and I found keeping my eyes open was getting incredibly harder…funny, I always thought that there would be a light at the end; guess I was wrong…
…
…hm?
I opened my eyes again, feeling strangely refreshed and finding that I could lift my head without trouble. Not only that, but my stomach and legs were fine, as if they weren't blown to pieces moments ago. And that's when I remembered that in medical school I was taught that brain activity can continue minutes after a person kicks the bucket.
I gotta say, having an out-of-body post-death experience was surprisingly pleasant; it helps that I can get off the ground without worrying about my insides spilling everywhere. Picking myself off the ground and dusting my uniform, I started to take stock of the situation.
I was still in the same desert with the skirmish between what's left of my squadron fighting the terrorists, and by the looks of it, we were slowly but surely starting to get the upper hand. However, I was quick to notice a strange figure in the middle of the battlefield; it was wearing black robes and in its left hand carried a scythe and in its right hand a… clipboard.
"Errr...excuse me?" I spoke up in a somewhat meek voice. "Sir… or Madam…?"
The figure suddenly stopped and turned its attention to me; it looked at its clipboard, then back at me, then right back at the clipboard, and once more at me. After doing that for a few more minutes, it started to make its way toward me at a frightening speed. For a split second I was tempted to run in the opposite direction, but quickly realized how pointless that would be.
Besides, I'm already dead anyway, so what do I have to lose?
It didn't take long for the figure to reach me, which allowed me to see how absolutely tall the figure was; it practically towered over me while casting a long shadow.
"Desmond Williams?" It asked, its voice sounding like a whisper that sent a chill down my spine.
"Err... no, my name is Edmond Willian with an 'N," I clarified, trying to sound unbothered by the whole situation.
"…what?" The figure double-checked its clipboard before facing me once more. "Are you trying to worm your way out of your destiny, mortal?"
"Hey man, no need to be aggravated." I raised my hands defensively before pointing toward my squadron. "Desmond is that guy over there."
The robed figure followed my finger until its gaze landed on the titular Desmond, who was receiving first aid. He had a few scratches on the face and was missing a chunk of his ear, but he seemed to be in good shape.
Awkward silence hung in the air as I just stood there idly tapping my fingers while the figure's grip on its scythe increased to the point where the knuckles in its pale hand whitened even further before it became slack as the robed figure let out a disgruntled sigh.
"I'm sorry, but can you tell me who you are?" I tentatively spoke, flinching as the figure turned to face me once more.
"Death." The now-named figure spoke plainly.
"As in the literal Grim Reaper?" I spoke slowly, making sure all my words were loud and clear.
"Yes, the literal Grim Reaper." Death confirmed with a curt nod. "You may also refer to me as Malakh ha-Mavet, Yama, or Azrel, depending on your religion, mortal."
"I see." I spoke in a dry tone of voice. "Thank you for the clarification."
"I'm surprised you're not panicking." Azrel remarked with curiosity in its voice. "This is an abnormal situation after all."
"What's the point of running around like a headless chicken while screaming my guts out?" I arched an eyebrow as I sat on the desert floor. "By the way, why did you sound so surprised?"
"Ah yes, you see an error happened." The Grim Reaper admitted with a hint of shame. "The one who attends by Desmond Williams was supposed to die, not you."
"Did an intern fuck up the spreadsheet or something?" I turned to face Azreal, who decided to take a seat next to me on the sand.
"I do not know; cases like this are anomalies." Azreal said as he watched the USA soldiers double-tapping the terrorists. "In all of my existence, only a handful of these mistakes happened."
"So what happens now?" I idly asked while looking at my corpse, which was starting to attract flies. "Are you going to revive me?"
"Normally yes, but your body is too damaged; placing your soul back on it would only result in your death once more." Death explained with a melancholy tone to its voice. "I'm deeply sorry that a callous mistake led to your early demise."
"It is what it is, man; don't sweat about it." I shrugged before placing a comforting hand on Azrel's shoulder. "Besides, it is not like anyone is going to miss me anyway."
"You have an uncanny disregard for your own existence." Azreal admitted. "Most mortals that I have met would be shedding rivers worth of tears."
"Like I just said, not like anyone is going to miss me." I released my hand from his shoulder and fell backwards on the sand. "I mean, I have a sister and all, but she's too busy with her life to worry about her fuckup of a brother, and it's not like Mom and Dad are here to shed any tears."
"What a melancholic existence." Death eventually remarked after a long pause.
"Like I said, it is what it is." I said nonchalantly before picking myself up. "So is this the part where you take me to Saint Peter to weigh my soul to see if I'm fit for Heaven or Hell?"
"This is indeed the part where I would carry you to the Pearly Gates." The Grim Reaper confirmed with a nod.
"But…?" I pressed on knowing this wasn't the end of it.
"First of all, answer me this: If you could have a second chance at life, would you do things differently?" The angel of death inquired.
"Alright, I will play your game; yes, I would obviously do things differently." I confirmed with a nod. "For example, trying a bit harder in medical school."
"Reasonable choices." Azreal nodded wisely. "Now what would you do if you could have this metaphorical second shot on another world?"
"Wait, what?" I was admittedly taken aback by what he said. "Care to clarify?"
"There's no point in, as you mortals put it, beating around the bush." The Grim Reaper then pointed its finger at me. "I am willing to make up for my mistake by giving you a second chance at life in any world of your choosing."
"I—I mean, I'm glad for the opportunity; really, I am." I began speaking, utterly flabbergasted by what I was hearing. "But isn't death your whole deal?" Then I looked over the remnants of the skirmish, seeing my fellow soldiers bag my body. "Besides, I wasn't exactly a shining example of a human being to begin with."
"Regardless of how good or bad you used to be, the point is your life was cut short." The Grim Reaper allowed his hand to fall to the side. "Therefore it would be unfair to pass on judgment to someone who did not live their life to its fullest extent."
"Fair enough." I conceded with a simple shrug. "But what was that about living in another world?"
"You heard me right; I could pull some strings to have your soul be transposed to another world, one of your choosing, and give you a boon; it is the least I could do to make up for my mistake."
"So if I asked to be reincarnated into the world of Backyardigans with the powers of someone like Superman, would you grant me that?" I arched an eyebrow. "No strings attached?"
"It is the least I can do." Azreal said truthfully. "However, I advise choosing carefully where you wish to reincarnate, for once you are in the new world, you will be on your own with nothing but the boon of your choosing."
"A one-and-done deal, eh?" I scratched my chin. "Do you mind giving me some time to ponder that?"
"Take your time." Azreal bowed before making his way to the other corpses, presumably to check on them.
Sitting down in the sand, I immersed myself deep in thought; the offering presented me with nigh infinite possibilities! Pursing my lips and closing my eyes, I kicked my brain into maximum overdrive.
After a few long minutes of pondering, I finally came up with an idea, so getting up and dusting myself off once more, I approached The Grim Reaper with confident steps. Once close enough, I cleared my throat, which got the attention of the angel of death.
"I would like to be reincarnated in the world of Mass Effect." I confidently declared. "As for the boon, how about you hook me up with a Symbiote like Venom or Carnage?"
"Interesting choices, but yes, it could be arranged." Azreal nodded as he placed his clipboard back inside his robes.
"However, here's the thing: I don't want the symbiote to be Venom or Carnage; I want it to be a completely new entity." I quickly clarified. "And lastly, make it based on the Anti-Venom symbiote; I can't have my vibe killed because some random decided to play their boombox at maximum volume."
"Consider it done." The Grim Reaper then extended his hand. "Shall we go now?"
Instead of taking his hand right away, I decided to take one last look around the desert; my squadron was long gone by this point, alongside my body, and so, smacking my lips with a sense of finality, I turned to face Azreal once more and took his hand.
Suddenly I felt dizzy; the whole world around me seemed to spin non-stop it didn't took long for the deser around me to become nothing more then a spiral of brows and blues and then I feel backwards my body sinking trough the ground as I plummeted in a pitch-dark hole the last thing I saw being Azreal staring down at me before vanishing.
I felt down for what seemed like an eternity, but it all changed when I hit the floor, the carpeted floor of a bedroom.
Groaning, I lifted my head and started to look around, confirming that I was indeed in a bedroom, and judging by the posters and action figures that dotted the walls and shelves, the bedroom of a teenage boy no less.
Adjusting myself until I was on my knees and looked down on my hands and the rest of my body, quickly noticing that I went from a twenty-something-year-old adult to that of a pre-teen. Picking myself up from the floor, I started to properly inspect the bedroom, eventually spotting what looked like a tablet lying on the bed.
Picking it up, the screen came to life in a soft blue light; the tablet displayed what looked like some form of assignment with the title "The Aftermath of the First Contact War by Edmond Sheppard."
Wait a second…Sheppard? As in The Commander Sheppard, who is destined to fight against the looming threat of the Reapers? Thank God I asked for a Symbiote, it will make things drastically easier. Speaking of the alien goo in question, where is it?
Setting the tablet down, I began scouring the room, leaving nothing unturned. My search led me to my closet, whereupon opening it I was greeted by a shoebox that was emitting some sort of squelching noise from within. Rubbing my hands in a mischievous manner, I opened it, and sure enough, there it was.
Filling the box's insides was a thick, white, gooey substance that had an oily texture to it. While far from the more gracious place to find a Symbiote it would do. Taking a deep breath, I extended my hand forward and touched the alien goo.
A few moments went by, and absolutely nothing happened. I was expecting it to jump me the second I opened the box, but other than wriggling around in the box, it did noth—
I suddenly gasped as the white mass suddenly enveloped my hand, preventing me from pulling out, taking deep breaths. I did my best not to panic as it started to climb and envelop my arm. It didn't take long for the Symbiote to fully envelop my arm and shoulder.
It wasn't a bad feeling by any stretch of the word, but to say it felt… wrong would be an understatement, but I asked for this, so now I gotta follow through to the end, and so, taking a deep breath, I stuck my other hand on the mass, who was more than happy to envelop it too, at a much more rapid rate.
Soon the white tendrils converged at my chest before travelling all the way down my body, leaving only my head the only part of my body that wasn't consumed by it, but it didn't stay long like that as the Symbiote was quick to correct that. I fell to the floor as my vision was quickly engulfed by white tendrils.
And for the second time I lost consciousness.
[Author's Notes]
Hey there folks! It's ya boy! Mac!
Recently a lot of stuff happened: my PC broke, I temporarily lost access to my FFnet account, but everything turned out just fine at the end of the day, and during the time I waited for my PC to be repaired, I came up with the idea for this fic.
Before it broke, I was replaying through the Mass Effect trilogy and watched the Venom movie and came up with this idea. I was utterly enamored by the concept of the Symbiotes and thought they would be a good fit for the Mass Effect universe.
Also, a fun fact: this intro sequence was heavily inspired by a fic called Mass Effect: Plan for the Galaxy, an absolutely goated fic that I recommend everyone check out.
Anyhow, that is it, folks! Don't forget to leave a review containing criticism and/or suggestions! I read all of them!
Mac, sign' out!