Return From Damnation

VISITING AN OLD FRIEND OR ENEMY

" Death, they say, is a time of rest for everyone. But I have to admit, I felt terrible when I died... I must sound crazy, I know, but what comes next is even crazier.

A few days ago, I was in a car accident and died. And then, I found myself in a dark place. It was the darkest thing I had ever seen. I couldn't even see myself. I took a few steps, but the darkness persisted. I kept moving... I must have taken more than a thousand steps. Still, no sign of light.

I tried to recollect how I ended up there and that's when it hit me—I was dead. The last sound I remembered was that of my car, colliding with a tree. I called out for anyone to hear, but no one did. There was no echo of my voice. I lingered there for a while and then started counting.

I counted until I lost track of numbers. Sleep had left me. I felt no desire to eat, relieve myself, or anything... I had lost all hope. I thought I would be trapped in that eternal darkness, eventually losing my sanity. It was dreadful.

But suddenly, I saw a light. In the center of that light stood a being. He asked me to follow him, and I did. At that point, I didn't care about his appearance. He was like my savior and angel, so I followed him blindly.

You know what happened next? That deceiver led me to hell, where I witnessed countless souls enduring torment for their sins. The sight was horrifying. In that moment, a thought gripped me—was this my fate? Staying in that darkness would have been better than suffering for eternity.

The being turned to me and called my name. He asked if I knew why I died and why I ended up in hell. I couldn't answer. Then he revealed the reason for my demise, which exceeded my expectations.

I couldn't believe it: my friend Sam had sabotaged the brakes of my car, causing the accident, and stole the artifact we took from a cult, leading me to hell. Why hell? I wasn't that bad. Stealing is wrong, I admit, but is it still wrong to steal from bad people? However, the truth about the cause of my death was worse than hell itself.

My so-called friend, Sam, intentionally caused the accident and stole the artifact, leaving me to die. Some of us are living with demons disguised as humans.

I know you must be wondering how a living person can speak of being dead. Well, as I mentioned earlier, I made a deal with this being, the devil himself. He promised to restore my life if I agreed to retrieve the stolen artifact and return it to the cult.

Who wouldn't want to have a second chance at life? I accepted the deal. However, I had only thirty days to recover the artifact, or else I would face death again. The next thing I knew, I found myself in another dark place. But this time, it was a cramped space.

Once I regained my senses, I realized I was in a coffin. Miraculously, I was breathing again, feeling alive. With all my strength, I broke free from the coffin and managed to dig my way out of the grave. My suit was filthy, so I discarded it, replaced it with clothes from another man's grave.

From there, I headed straight home. I yearned to see my wife and son, to hold them in my arms once more. But when I arrived and saw my son, I couldn't approach him. How could I explain to him that his dead father had come back to life to embrace him?

Suddenly, my son's instincts took over, and he turned to face me. He stood there, fixated on me for a moment. Then, he turned and ran away. Well... that's what I deserved. How could I have expected my son to run toward a ghost?

However, I might really become a ghost if I don't find that artifact soon. It's time to

pay that son of a bitch a visit."

Rowan took a deep breath, thinking how he was to find the artifact as he was desperate to escape his fate. He also contemplated whether to return or leave those from his past behind. The urgency and frustration boiling within him. However, his attention shifted to the woman lying next to him, a temporary companion he had booked for the night.

"Hey, are you still awake?" he inquired, receiving no response from her.

"Right... why would the living care about a mundane tale of death?" Rowan mused, pulling the blanket away from his body.

"Good night, sugar," he whispered to the silent room as he made his way out.

...

Meanwhile, in another scene, a fat man sat on a bed surrounded by four women, their gentle touches providing fleeting sensations of pleasure. Suddenly, his eyes caught sight of a passing shadow beyond the window. Instantly, his excitement shifted to fear. The girls sensed his change in demeanor and, in turn, became frightened. The silence was shattered by noises emanating from within the house.

Alert and armed with a pistol wich was hidden beneath his pillow, the man cautiously approached the source of the commotion. Another shadow flitted past, causing a startled reaction. "Hello? Is anyone there?" he called out, met only with silence.

Continuing onward, his eyes widened in shock when he saw the person behind the shadows. Suddenly, the girls in the room heard their client's cries and the subsequent gunfire. Hastily grabbing their dresses, they slipped away unnoticed.

In the shadowed corner, the fat man remained, his gaze fixed upon another figure. "Hello, Sam... it's been a while," the figure greeted, their voice calm yet chilling.

Sam struggled to form a coherent response, his words escaping him gradually. "H-how... are you... still alive?"