They didn’t have to go far. It was just a left turn onto the path and then straight for a while before turning right when the trail split.

Owen knew this route. It was his route. He ran here when he could. Sometimes even when he shouldn’t. This was his trail when he needed to clear his head or was just feeling a little restless.

He loved the smell of the outdoors and there wasn’t much of that around where he lived.

It was so easy to put in a pair of earbuds and just run until he’d forgotten everything that was troubling him.

That probably wouldn’t be so easy here. For one, he didn’t have his phone. Owen doubted he would be able to unlock it even if he did.

But more importantly, there was a massive crime scene in the middle of the path.

“Is all that blood mine?” Owen stopped outside of the yellow tape that cordoned off the area. The tape was strung across the entire length of the concrete and wrapped around the trees on either side.

It kind of had to be hung like that. Blood splatters covered the full width of the path.

He couldn’t be sure due to the dappled shadows thrown around by the trees, but he thought something might have been painted onto the sidewalk with his blood.

On the far side two officers stood to the side while a third conversed with a dog walker.

One officer noticed their group and split off to meet them, ducking into the trees to avoid having to step through the bloodstains.

The officer was thickset and when he was close enough, Owen realized he was absolutely colossal. His chest looked like it was about even with Owen’s eye-level.

“Themis, am I short?”

The approaching officer barked a laugh. Whoops. Owen hadn't thought he’d been loud enough to be heard.

“You’re about average. I’m Officer Keane, and I’m just tall. What’s your name?” the man asked him.

“He’s taken to calling himself ‘Owen’. We have you marked at five feet and nine inches. Or one point seven-eight meters. Perfectly average for a non-powered adult male in the United States.” Charon said from behind him.

Owen glanced back to find he was holding his questionnaire clipboard again. Had he been carrying that around this whole time?

Actually, wait. He didn’t remember answering those questions. When exactly had they gotten all of that information filled in? Had they just… assumed he didn’t know any of the answers?

They were probably right, but that felt like something a government worker definitely shouldn’t do.

“So all that is yours.” Officer Keane, as was also confirmed by the name badge on his chest gestured at the place where Owen had lost his life. It wasn’t a question. He wondered how the officer knew that.

Had he been there and seen his corpse before it had been covered up and taken away?

Has he been waiting here ever since?

It was almost comforting to think someone had been thinking about him. Of course, he felt a bit guilty for thinking that way, but it was a small comfort.

Just looking at the scene now, Owen imagined he could almost feel the pain again. Aching and hot across his whole stomach and spreading slowly across his chest.

If Owen concentrated enough, he thought he could smell something like copper and oil lingering in the air. It hung in the air between the trees and over their heads, and he knew what it was.

It was death.

His death.

Officer Keane sighed quietly. “I’m sorry we weren’t here when you needed us. To have your second chance taken from you at such a young age is inexcusable.”

Owen looked up at the man. The gaze he met was filled with frustration and sadness. Was he just going to gloss over what he'd just said?

"Second chance? What do you mean?"

"Charon didn't explain?" Charon didn't exactly say much, and Keane seemed to realize that a moment later. "All non-powered individuals can be brought back once. It's a federally funded program. After a person is revived once, the energy tends to linger and make additional resurrections impossible, or at least too difficult for your average necromancer or soul-caller. It's the same reason most powered individuals can't be brought back either. Conflicting energies."

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

He considered the officer. Keane looked tired. His posture sagging and tense all at once like he put the weight of the whole city on his shoulders.

“It’s okay. I’m doing a lot better now.” Owen tried.

Keane gave him a complex look. Owen thought he caught a flash of regret near the end, but the rest was too fleeting to decipher. “Maybe.”

The rest was left unsaid, but Owen got the idea. No more second chances.

Owen turned his attention back to the canvas of blood in front of him. He followed the sweeping arch and tried to recall the memory it represented. He stared up at the waving tree branches above. He knew those too. He'd been on the ground, a heavy weight on his chest.

“The killer…” He hesitated and solidified his thoughts before he said any more. “He, uh- I think he’s only a little taller than I am. Heavier?” He had the feeling he’d struggled against the man for a bit.

Owen had yanked the man’s hair to try and drag him off of him. “He has long, dark brown hair that’s kind of curly."

There was a stray blood mark that didn't fit in with the rest of the smooth curving line that cut through the scene. This stain was a splatter and then a smear like he'd been dragged after bleeding there.

"Dark eyes.” Eyes that burned with anger as he grabbed Owen by the head and slammed him against the ground. He didn't remember anything that came after that. The long slashes across his stomach were a mystery to him, but he was a bit thankful he didn't completely remember that part.

He shivered in the cool breeze and pressed a hand to the back of his head. That was probably the cause of his persisting headache.

Officer Keane and Themis were both staring at him. He couldn’t really tell where Charon was looking beyond the shadow of his hood, but he was turned in his general direction too.

“Sorry. That’s all I have.” Owen said apologetically. He hoped they hadn’t expected more.

“You can remember all that?” Charon sounded shocked, which was odd. It was Owen’s understanding that it was Charon’s power that was responsible for him being able to walk around now.

Missing a few memories—or all of them, really—but probably nothing he wouldn’t be willing to pay for this second chance.

“Not exactly.” Owen wasn’t sure how to explain it. “It’s like…my imagination? Or déjà vu? I dunno.”

Keane’s face showed his doubts pretty clearly.

“I’m sure this sounds far-fetched to you. Let me think. I was probably wearing something bright today. Colors that clash because I think it’s funny. I ran down from that direction.” Owen pointed in the direction opposite from where they had just come. “Blasting music so nobody talks to me.”

“I think he tripped me when I was running past him.” Owen frowned at that. “I think I only have this much because it's fresh, or maybe because I’m seeing it all again. I don’t know if I parked nearby or ran all the way here. Everything else is too vague to even call an impression.” He sulked, but that had seemed to be enough to convince Keane.

“The dog walker’s story matches that closely enough. Said you ran past him in this direction listening to music so loud he could sing along if he wanted.“ Keane looked to be in thought. “You were wearing a neon yellow shirt and a pair of pink shorts when we found you. Unfortunately, your phone or wallet were not found nearby, so we’re still struggling to identify you.”

“Your prints and DNA aren’t in our system, so you didn’t have a registered power or a criminal record.” Charon reported.

Keane nodded at that like he’d already expected that outcome. What was the implication there? Did Owen just give off law-abiding vibes?

“Jerry.” It was another one of the officers. At some point they had finished up their conversation with the dog-walker and made their way over. Of course, Owen hadn’t noticed her show up, and he’d been on edge ever since showing up at the park, so Owen had practically jumped out of his skin.

The officer who had been conversing with them was also nowhere to be seen though, and Owen wondered where they might be.

The third officer was just standing behind him. Heuer, as revealed by her name tag. She’d been the one to call Jerry’s name. Jerry Keane? That felt weird to think. Owen would just stick to calling him ‘Officer Keane’ in his head.

Owen looked around but couldn’t see where the dog had gone. What a pity. He’d wanted to pet it. It was understandable though. Owen imagined the owner might be a little shaken by the events of their morning walk.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Officer Heuer was pretty. High cheeks and excited eyes.

She grinned at Owen, revealing a gap between her two front teeth. It made her already youthful appearance almost childish.

Owen’s lips tipped downward ever so slightly. Something about her was painfully familiar. She felt like a friend, but he knew she wasn’t the person he was thinking of.

He wondered if his friends missed him. Well, they probably didn’t know he was gone yet, so the answer was almost certainly ‘no’. He definitely missed them. And he hated the idea that he might never know them again.

Officer Heuer turned back to her colleague. “Divi-vision already got back to us on this one.” She gestured excitedly to the mess left behind from Owen’s death.

“Divi-vision?” Owen asked curiously.

“They’re a group with divination abilities that work with us to help speed up investigations.” Charon informed him.

“If their description matches yours, we can flag a suspect description.” Themis chimed in, far too happily to be talking about hunting a murderer.

“Suspect is currently masquerading as ‘Ichor’ and running around with unregistered hemokinesis. He’s not filed yet, so they couldn’t match his alias, but they have a physical description.”

“Is it a man, about 5’ 10” with long curly dark hair and dark brown eyes?”

Heuer looked at him triumphantly, “It is! They already sent a sketch too.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket and swiped the power on. A few taps later and she was shoving her phone into Keane’s face.

Owen leaned in to look too.

Hell, that was him alright.

Just the sight of his face had Owen feeling nauseous and terrified.

Owen grimaced and ran away from the group to throw up in a bush.