“Fuck it.” I muttered, rocking onto my rear leg before launching forward, swinging a clenched fist into his smug, smarmy fucking face. I was here to dance, vibe, and pretend not to exist. Note how having my hips groped by smarmy assholes wasn’t on the list. I was not here to be a plaything- well. Not his fucking plaything. His date though- I mean, that’s how I got into this mess in the first place.

I missed, of course. He had seen it coming a mile away with his freaky all-pupil eyes… Was he always missing an iris? Drugged out of his mind? Maybe. It’d just make my night to swing at a fucker on bathsal- fuck. I fell forward, still feeling the fresh cavity he forced into my stomach with a punch faster than I could blink.

A wracking cough worked its way up my throat. I caught it on the back of my hand. A glance told me it was now littered with red flecks. “I- Might’ve deserved that one-“ I forced out in a raspy voice before his other pale, scar-littered hand wrapped around my chin. He wrenched it upward leaving me with no choice but to look into those tweaked out eyes. His blond hair was cut too short to intervene, and a scar interrupting his right eyebrow practically laughed at me for daring to swing a fist at him. Honestly, if I had noticed it, I’d have kicked instead.

My heart sped up, but my adrenaline slowed. I could hear the club again. Bass hard enough to shake my brain in its case thumped at a constant rhythm. Multicolored lights and screens flashed sporadically around us. People danced. Hell, from what little I could see, no one even noticed us. Which… Wasn’t surprising, actually, given this was the sixth set of the night.

He pulled me close enough to feel his rancid breath on my face. Well, I assumed it was rancid. The taste of iron on my tongue was making it difficult to smell much of anything at the moment.

“Good for you, standing up for yourself and all that.” He stated in a calm, chill voice. I swear, I’ve heard call center drones tell me to reboot my computer in a more emotionally invested voice than his. What the fuck did I just get myself into.

I opened my mouth to respond, saliva dribbling down my chin. “Don’t. Fucking. Grope me.” I managed, my deep brown eyes an ocean of fury. Fuck bowing to this asshole.

“You were flirting with my property.” He offered, forcibly turning my head to look at the exceptionally curvy brunette standing beside him. She had the good graces to wear a slightly anxious expression, and her right hand nervously tapped its claws against the side of her slim red dress. “It was only natural to check if you are worth enough to let play with what is mine.” His red lips tilted upward into the thinnest of smiles as he forced my head back towards him.

That made no fucking sense to me, of course. Territorial bullshit. Granted, she was collared… but collars are worn often enough as a fashion statement, especially in places like this. Wait, fuck that. Why would that even fucking matter? All I did was talk to h- Right, outside voice. “All. I did. Was talk.” I offered with another rasp. Ugh, I need water. Let me go already.

“Exactly. Flirting with what is mine. And you were judged… Not worthy. A decision spurred on partially by your lack of restraint, but mostly by your lack of remorse. It truly is a shame, with hips like those… Ah well.” He sighed before shoving me away. He made a gesture in the air, and I heard footsteps behind me.

Unfortunately, I had been in the motion of working my knife from its place in my left pocket. And the hands now grasping my arms forced it the rest of the way out and onto the floor, where it was promptly picked up by the man in front of me, “Ah, clever. A gravity knife? Quaint. My thanks for the gift.”

Bad enough that he groped me, dropped me with one punch, and generally acted gross as fuck, but he had to take my good knife too? I tried for a witty response, but the individual on my right smacked me for the attempt. I settled for glaring. Maybe if I glare hard enough he’ll catch on fire… Yeah, not working. Fuck. Okay, I can still get out of this-

One of them wrapped an opaque black bag around my head in the time it took to finish the thought. They dragged me backwards. The music faded. A door opened. One of them grumbled about how heavy I was, which is a fucking lie by the way. I weigh a perfectly acceptable amount. My steel plated heels made a terrible grinding noise as we passed onto the pavement outside.

They tossed me to the ground, and I heard an unsettling crunch. I winced, making a harsh noise in response. One of them laughed. Then I heard a noise, felt something sharp push my head backwards, and then everything stopped.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

____

I woke up swinging with my right fist as my left hand reached for my knife- I froze. I was already standing. Why was I standing? My eyes scanned the surroundings. The door I had been dragged through was in front of me. Turning, I could see dumpsters behind and a crumpled form leaning against them. A red stream leaked from the bag on top of its head- I turned away immediately.

Okay. That isn’t me. There’s no fucking way that’s me. Someone spiked my drink; I am having a hallucination. Or I got choked too hard by that chick with sharp claws in the bathroom and this is a near-death fever dream.

“Unfortunately, I regret to inform you that, no, this is not, in fact, an erotic-asphyxiation induced hallucination.” A small, feminine voice offered from some point in front of me. The scene around me evaporated like smoke into the air, leaving behind only darkness. The darkness brought silence, except for the voice that was clearly coming from the small purple light floating directly ahead of myself. “My apologies for allowing you to see that, but you weren’t scheduled to be here today. My break was supposed to last at least another fifteen minutes, but here we are.”

“And where is here? And who the fuck are you? And what the fuck is this? And I’m fucking dead aren’t I? Fuck.” My voice raced breathlessly. I blinked at the light before looking down at myself. I was still wearing an elegantly frilled black dress with layers of lace, a pleasantly fluffy underskirt, and a long-sleeved blouse beneath the dress. My steel-plated boots and torn black fishnets were still on beneath the skirt as well. I noticed my riveted black leather finger-less gloves were also back to their normal form. My nails even remained painted black. Wait, were my nails painted better than before I had died? I swear they were chipped and flaking. Did they fucking give me a manicure?

“Here is still Earth, just. Not your side of it. I am Construct 84023-32. This is an after-death meeting where your soul would normally be claimed and either released back into the atmosphere as disparate parts, returned to the world tree, carried outward to another universe, or any number of other options dependent upon Death’s wishes. But They are currently preoccupied as your death was not accounted for.” The wisp continued in a pleasant voice, her light flashing several times for emphasis at key moments in her speech. “And yes, I did repair your nails. They were unacceptably damaged. And no, purposefully grunge is not an acceptable reason for me to return them to their previous condition.” I swear she practically sniffed with that last comment.

Well, it’s unsurprising that she can likely read my mind. At least her voice is rather cute- “Yes, my voice was synthesized to provoke feelings of comfort given your discomforting situation. And yes, the lack of a physical body is also reducing the amount of anxiety and panic you would otherwise be feeling at this moment.” She answered without prompting.

Yeah, no, definitely able to read my mind. Not that I care. I’m fucking dead so what does it matter at this point. Granted, I would have preferred dying because I drowned while eating a girl o- “Of course it matters. This situation is anything but normal.” She interjected, rudely interrupting my thoughts about the ideal way to exit my mortal coil. Wait.

“It isn’t? I died? It seems pretty normal as far as my experience with dying so far is concerned?” I responded, deciding to patiently wait for her to explain things instead of freaking the fuck out. Post-mortality clonazepam is one hell of a drug, apparently.

“There is no drug being administered to you. You simply do not have the panic response a physical body would normally induce at the thought of impending doom. Yes, you died. No, this is not normal. If this was normal, I would still be enjoying a relaxing watch of Sector 2A-3010’s quincentenary solar storm. They are quite well regarded among my workmates. Now I will need to wait another five centuries…” She sighed, which I found quite adorable before trying to figure out how she could sigh without lungs. “The point is that Death would have gotten to you instead of me. Your death was not accounted for. We were unable to predict it. External forces are acting upon your world, and they directly influenced your death.”

I began to ask a question before stopping with a sigh. Wait. I can also sigh despite not having lungs! I smiled and made an excited noise before coughing and returning to my normal, serious manner. I am nothing if not well-adjusted.

“In point of fact, you are anything but well-adjusted. It is not my place to judge you, however. As one killed outside the natural order of your world, you are entitled to recompense as per Sector 10A-5023’s insurance contingency. You will be returned to existence and entered into Death’s direct assistance network. This should allow you to obtain revenge if that is your wish, and, at the very least, you will be able to interfere with any ongoing external influences upon your world. It is required that you investigate these external influences. An agenda will also be provided to you when it is timely to do so. Do you have any questions?” She continued in an almost bored tone of voice, clearly repeating something she has repeated numerous times before.

“Insurance poli-“ I attempted before she interrupted me. “I apologize, no questions are actually allowed at this time. Please have a lovely journey back to mortal existence.”

The world flashed with sudden light. I blinked. It was dark again. I couldn’t see. And the air was heavy with decay. What the fu- The bag. I still had the fucking bag over my head. I yanked it off before glancing around. I really wished I had kept the bag on. I shifted, and glass bottles rolled down the hills of trash around me.

“Did you really have to send me back to a fucking landfill?” I asked, lying atop a mountain of trash, glaring up at the night’s sky.