"Well, I guess that's that", Texas said, staring at the dead girl on the floor. The corpse had black hair and it's dead green eyes were staring at the ceiling. The girl's hand's were laying on her belly, where they covered a whole the size of a fist. The green T-shirt wa drenched with a brown liquid generally known as blood."Fuck."
Two hours ago, a man had broken into her house and had tried to rape her. But when she had bit him in the face, the bastard had pulled out a gun and put a big, deadly whole through her from behind as she tried to run. She had fallen on her back and died.
Now, Texas was looking at her own dead body. She could only guess what she was; a spirit, a remnant of her consciousness or simply a soul wihtout a hull. Whatever she was, she was happy not to be able to smell anything. The smell of excrements and blood must have spread and she knew only too well how nausious that made her. She had once been a nurse and had spent enough time around dying people.
But her thoughts drifted away from her past and into the future. Why was she still here? Weren't dead people supposed to go somewhere...? Not that she believed in Heaven, or Hell for that matter. But she could always be wrong. And this - just couldn't be it. She decided to try something. She walked over to the phone and reached out for the receiver. To her surprise, she could feel the cold and slick material of the phone. She picked it up and put it to her ear. But instead of hearing the usual sound she heard a voice that said, "Dear Ms Texas O'Brian, you will be picked up by Death shortly. Please wait at the location of you death. We are thankful for your patience. Dear Ms Texas O'Brian, you will be..."
She the receiver down and frowned. Well, at least the people on the other side seemed to be organized. But this certanly wasn't how she had imagined death. She had always imagined it to be somthing a bit more...flashy. Cheering trompets, a choir of angels, Satan laughing, James Dean waving her though the tunnel, Jennifer Love Hewitt giving her a nod in the right direction...
Maybe that's why she was still her. She looked at her body. Her T-shirt had been torn apart by that sick maniac who had killed her. My God was she happy the guy wasn't a necriphiliac...seeing her dead body being raped would have sent her over the edge. Well, technicaly she was already over the edge and falling, but that's not the point. Could she go nuts as a ghost? Of course she could, she thought. How else should Poltergeists exist? Weren't they angry spirits? Maybe she was an angry spirit. Someone had tried to rape her and then killed her. That qualified for major wrath.
But somehow she didn't feel angry. She just felt confused. and intrigued...The voice had said that Death would come and get her...again. So where was he? Or she. and what did he look like.
She looked around. There was a huge mess...She had thrown things at the intruder, but that hadn't really helped her. She wondered how long it would take for someone to find her. Not too long she hoped. She didn't want to be all eaten up by insects when they found her. No, a violent death was enough.
She heard steps approach behind her and turned around. Her heart skipped a beat. She was looking directly into Death's eyes...or rahter, eyes sockets. "Hi", Texas blurted.
"Hi", a Death's cheery voice said. "So you're...", he looked at a notepad he lifted up with a skeletal hand,"...Texas O'Brian. Pleased to meet you!" He held out a bony hand that Texas took with a bemazed smile.
"Well", he contnued, letting go of her hand and turning to the corpse," now that's jst awful. Sometimes I wonder that so few of you die every day. There are some really crude individuals out there who seem to be very eager to kill. It's like a zeal for murder. I don't understand this..." Death shook his hooded skull.
He turned around to face"Well, I guess that's that", Texas said, staring at the dead girl on the floor. The corpse had black hair and it's dead green eyes were staring at the ceiling. The girl's hand's were laying on her belly, where they covered a whole the size of a fist. The green T-shirt wa drenched with a brown liquid generally known as blood."Fuck."
Two hours ago, a man had broken into her house and had tried to rape her. But when she had bit him in the face, the bastard had pulled out a gun and put a big, deadly whole through her from behind as she tried to run. She had fallen on her back and died.
Now, Texas was looking at her own dead body. She could only guess what she was; a spirit, a remnant of her consciousness or simply a soul wihtout a hull. Whatever she was, she was happy not to be able to smell anything. The smell of excrements and blood must have spread and she knew only too well how nausious that made her. She had once been a nurse and had spent enough time around dying people.
But her thoughts drifted away from her past and into the future. Why was she still here? Weren't dead people supposed to go somewhere...? Not that she believed in Heaven, or Hell for that matter. But she could always be wrong. And this - just couldn't be it. She decided to try something. She walked over to the phone and reached out for the receiver. To her surprise, she could feel the cold and slick material of the phone. She picked it up and put it to her ear. But instead of hearing the usual sound she heard a voice that said, "Dear Ms Texas O'Brian, you will be picked up by Death shortly. Please wait at the location of you death. We are thankful for your patience. Dear Ms Texas O'Brian, you will be..."
She the receiver down and frowned. Well, at least the people on the other side seemed to be organized. But this certanly wasn't how she had imagined death. She had always imagined it to be somthing a bit more...flashy. Cheering trompets, a choir of angels, Satan laughing, James Dean waving her though the tunnel, Jennifer Love Hewitt giving her a nod in the right direction...
Maybe that's why she was still her. She looked at her body. Her T-shirt had been torn apart by that sick maniac who had killed her. My God was she happy the guy wasn't a necriphiliac...seeing her dead body being raped would have sent her over the edge. Well, technicaly she was already over the edge and falling, but that's not the point. Could she go nuts as a ghost? Of course she could, she thought. How else should Poltergeists exist? Weren't they angry spirits? Maybe she was an angry spirit. Someone had tried to rape her and then killed her. That qualified for major wrath.
But somehow she didn't feel angry. She just felt confused. and intrigued...The voice had said that Death would come and get her...again. So where was he? Or she. and what did he look like.
She looked around. There was a huge mess...She had thrown things at the intruder, but that hadn't really helped her. She wondered how long it would take for someone to find her. Not too long she hoped. She didn't want to be all eaten up by insects when they found her. No, a violent death was enough.
She heard steps approach behind her and turned around. Her heart skipped a beat. She was looking directly into Death's eyes...or rahter, eyes sockets. "Hi", Texas blurted.
"Hi", a Death's cheery voice said. "So you're...", he looked at a notepad he lifted up with a skeletal hand,"...Texas O'Brian. Pleased to meet you!" He held out a bony hand that Texas took with a bemazed smile.
"Well", he contnued, letting go of her hand and turning to the corpse," now that's jst awful. Sometimes I wonder that so few of you die every day. There are some really crude individuals out there who seem to be very eager to kill. It's like a zeal for murder. I don't understand this..." Death shook his hooded skull.
He turned around to face Texas, who just continued to glare at him with a perplexed air.
"Are you ok to leave?", he asked her.
She nodded, "Sure".
"Well, then. Let's go." He motioned to the open back door. She stared at her body. So this was it. She was really dead. She was goign to leave her mortal remnants behind and find out what's really on the other side. She really hoped that she would soon be found. The smell would get the attention of her neighbours at some point. And she hoped that here cat woudn't it her face. She gave her blody corpse one last look and then made her way to the door, Death following her.

__________________
If my doctor told me I had only six minutes to live, I wouldn't brood. I'd type a little faster.
--Isaac Asimov

"If you fail me again, large or small, I will tear your throat out, and my children will bathe in a shower of your blood." Nicely graphic; a little melodramatic, but nicely graphic.
-- Nikolaos, Anita