Please don't expect many posts every day, but there will be at least one post a week (I hope) Now, if only there were actually people who commented... This short story is a inspired by Re:Monster, and a couple of other stories. This is by no means a copy. Well, enough of that, here's the short story:
Hello there.
I was a human.
Now, you may be wondering why I said ‘was’ instead of am, but you see, there are some circumstances involved.
To make it more complicated: I was killed on my way home after getting wasted in a bar, only to lead me to what I thought was a shortcut home. So, of course, the logical thing would be to take the path, right? So, of course, that’s what I did. At the time, I didn’t know that just going on this path would lead to my death. I had walked into the alley, going all the way to the other side, only to find that there was someone sitting on top of a body repeatedly… stabbing it?!! With that, I immediately sobered up, and I felt- no, I heard my heart beating in my heart. Endlessly, it continued pumping the blood to the rest of my body.
Most of my thoughts had stopped. Thinking back on it, was that what they called fight or flight? Well, with all my thoughts paused, all I could think of was running away from this unreal scene. And so I ran. I ran with all my might. I ran, and I fled. I ran, and I dashed, I made a break for it. There are many ways that I could express what I did. I made a strategic retreat. But it all came down to one thing. I choosed flight. My instincts, ingrained into my body through millions of years of evolution, were telling me that “this was dangerous”, and that “I can’t win”. And run I did. Throwing the can of booze I was holding in my hand on the floor, I turned around, and I started to pull at the walls, pushing off of the floor with each and every step. I wouldn’t stop until I had gotten out of the area. But it was futile. There was no point to even trying to escape. I couldn’t; No, they didn’t permit it. If they didn’t permit it, I wouldn’t be able to do it. Behind me, the murderer jumped up in an inhuman feat, and bouncing off the walls, quickly pounced onto me from above.
I fell, squashed onto the ground from above. Next thing I knew, I felt something piercing into my back. What is this? It feels strangely hot. Huh? Why’s there a red puddle here? Oh, I see. It’s my blood. I’m dying aren’t I?
I had many things to say, but I died just like that, and with that, I ended my life as an unlucky drunkard who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
But none of that matters. What is important is: What the heck has happened to me after I died?!!! I’ve heard of reincarnation before: I was a bit of a nerd, so I can understand that, but my question still remains unanswered. Yes, I know I have probably reincarnated, so I understand being the size of a baby, and not being able to move, but why is my skin green???
This is my first time in this situation, so I’m not exactly sure how to react…
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