The elderly shopkeeper watched as Zane ran up and down the street, dodging the various gangsters he owed money to. So far three different pairs of gang enforcers had joined the fray, each attempting to catch Zane and extract their pound of flesh before the others could.

By the time the fourth pair of enforcers entered the picture, it was becoming clear that there would not be enough of the handsome young man to go around. Nobody was lucky enough to evade four different gangs at once. Not even Zane, who many on the street lovingly referred to as “God’s favorite idiot”.

He didn't even have the decency to be a proper degenerate. Instead of gambling or womanizing, his most recent trouble had come from what he thought was a case of unopened vintage Pokemon cards. The idiot had borrowed money from all four gangs to finance the purchase, not bothering to properly read the listing before he put in his bid.

“They're just as good!” Zane shouted as he dodged an attempt to tackle him. “I'll get you your money by the end of the day! I've got a plan!”

“Nobody cares about Digimon!” The gangster shouted, panting for breath and bracing himself against a market stall. “Give it up, you can't run forever!”

“Yes I can!” Zane replied, ducking under another enforcer's attempt to grab him while he was distracted. He winked at the shopkeeper, who was livestreaming the whole encounter from her shop’s cameras.

The elderly shopkeeper checked the feed and banned a few of the more racist commenters in the chat. Zane had set it up for her with the promise that if things didn't work out as planned, she could keep the money, and his laptop. Or whoever’s laptop it really was.

The shopkeeper wasn't even sure what a livestream was. But apparently one could make a decent amount of money from them. Livestreaming was how Zane paid his bills, when he actually paid his bills. She wondered if they might be interested in watching her knit.

Usually Zane's get rich quick schemes had a fatal flaw. But as the money continued to roll in, even she had to admit that he was probably onto something. They were already up to five thousand viewers and the chat was going wild. Donations were pouring in so fast that Zane would be able to pay off the gangsters with money to spare, if he could stay alive for long enough.

Once donations crossed the threshold, she switched off the sign above the door. That was Zane's signal to come in. The enforcers wouldn't dare set foot in her shop, not when six of her grandchildren were high ranking police officers.

Zane smiled as he saw the signal, winking at the camera. But instead of running to safety like they had planned, he stayed outside, dodging between cars and market stalls. Taunting the enforcers and cracking jokes.

“Oh no,” the elderly shopkeeper said as the fatal flaw in the young man's plan revealed itself. Zane was physically incapable of stopping while he was ahead. He always pushed his limits, trying to fly closer and closer to the sun.

Then, just as it seemed all was lost, a miracle happened. The enforcers slowed down and finally gave up. They were tired of chasing Zane, and truth be told, their hearts weren't really in it. Zane was a good kid, even if he pushed his luck sometimes.

Zane triumphantly took a bow. “And that, gentlemen, is the end of our show. Don't worry, I'm a man of my word. I’ll have you all paid off as soon as the money hits my account.”

Then, the young man turned around and walked towards the safety of the shop, waving to the camera. Too bad Zane was so busy showing off that he forgot to look both ways before he crossed the street.

The elderly shopkeeper winced as a passing truck turned Zane into roadkill. She looked down at what was now her laptop and killed the camera feed.

Donations continued to flow in as people argued in the chat about whether Zane had really died or it was all a hoax. The elderly shopkeeper wasn't sure exactly what they were saying because she didn't speak Millennial, but one theory seemed particularly interesting.

She decided to look it up. “Dear Google, who is Truck-Kun?”

***

When Zane opened his eyes he was standing in a red carpeted hallway with no windows or clocks. Off in the distance he could hear dull murmuring voices and a clicking sound like someone was spinning a prize wheel.

He patted himself down, looking for any signs of injury. As far as Zane could tell, he was completely unharmed.

I must be dreaming, he thought. That truck probably knocked me into a coma and I'm in a hospital bed somewhere, hallucinating all of this.

The sound of tiny bells pulled Zane back to reality, or at least, the closest thing he could find to it.

Slowly he turned around to see a woman dressed in gold and purple robes. She was a head taller than him (which was saying something because Zane was nearly six feet tall) and wearing a white porcelain fox mask that covered the upper half of her face. Her amethyst eyes glinted with mischief.

“Did you lose something?” the woman asked pleasantly, “I saw you looking through your pockets.”

Zane put on a winning smile and extended his hand. He had found that if he acted confident (and coasted by on his good looks) everything had a way of working out. “Oh, it was nothing important. I'm Zane, by the way.”

She laughed at the informality of the gesture, but accepted it. “I am Lady Foxglove, Goddess of Fate, Chance, and Mischief. Welcome to the afterlife, Zane.”

“Afterlife?” the young man asked, his throat growing dry as he processed her words. He couldn't be dead, not yet. There was still so much that he wanted to do. This was probably just a dream. It had to be a dream.

“Oh yes, and might I say that it is wonderful to have you here. So few mortals ever show any real fire, or passion. They play it safe, and by the time they're ready to move on they're so wrinkly and boring.”

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

She smiled, showing perfectly white teeth with slightly elongated canines. “But not you, Zane. You burned so bright that you barely made it to twenty-five. You took big risks, and now it's time for your reward.”

Zane’s downward emotional spiral came to a screeching halt. “Reward? What kind of a reward?”

“Oh, Zane. Come with me and I'll show you.” Foxglove took him by the arm and walked towards a door that he could swear hadn't been there a second before. “It all starts with a choice, you can walk down the hall to the spirit realm, or you can…”

Zane reached out with his free hand and opened the door. Inside was a lush smoking lounge with a giant golden machine in the center of the room and leather couches against the walls.

The goddess gave him a look of surprise and appreciation. “Oooh! You are a fun one! Come on in.”

Zane wasn't sure what to make of Foxglove’s enthusiasm. He figured that was as much proof as anything that this was a dream. Most people got mad at him for being so impulsive. They said he had an attention deficit, or something along those lines. But Zane usually had stopped listening by that point.

“What does that thing do?” he asked, pointing to the machine. It had a giant wheel in the center and a lever on the side. Inscribed on the wheel were pictures of dragons and other beasts, including a very familiar fox mask.

The goddess leaned against the machine, rapping her knuckles on the side to wake it up. “This is the wheel of fate, give it a spin and claim your reward. Some are good and some are bad. But none of them are boring.” She giggled mischievously, covering her mouth with a hand.

Zane didn't have to be told twice. He grabbed the lever and pulled as hard as he could. There was a “crack!” as the ancient wood snapped off in his hand and the wheel began to spin.

Foxglove laughed, not the slightest bit upset by the damage Zane had done to the machine. “Around and around it goes! Where it stops, nobody knows!”

With a whirr of machinery the wheel continued to accelerate, filling the room with the smell of burning axle grease. “Is it supposed to do that?” He shouted over the roar.

“Nope!” she replied happily, having the time of her life, “I think you broke it!”

Zane decided that if the goddess he was hallucinating didn't seem bothered by it, he shouldn't be either. After all, he was probably going to wake up on a hospital bed soon with some very angry gangsters looming over him. He might as well enjoy himself while he was here.

Eventually there was a screeching sound of metal grinding against metal as the ancient device came to a halt. The indicator was stuck between the pictures of a scowling red dragon and a grinning blue cat.

Foxglove reached into the tray at the bottom and opened her hand to reveal two pills. “Jackpot! You got a two for one! Here, take these while I prepare the ceremony.”

Zane accepted the pills and popped them into his mouth, swallowing one after the other. They reminded him a bit of the Flintstone vitamins his mother used to give him as a child. Nothing seemed to happen, but they did make him thirsty.

Foxglove produced a brown clay bottle and a bundle of incense from somewhere inside her robes. She handed the bottle to him and went to work lighting the incense, humming as she went.

Gratefully Zane pulled out the cork and chugged the sickly sweet beverage. It was slightly carbonated and tasted like someone had mixed every soda known to man with a pint of cough syrup. But Zane was so thirsty that he didn't care.

Once she was done with her preparations the goddess smoothed down her purple robes and grinned.

“Ah yes, now comes the time to make a choice. Two paths, two pills, and a third option as well. Both contain sacred blessings and,” Foxglove stopped short. “Zane, did you consume both pills?”

He looked at her with surprise. “Was I not supposed to? You told me to take them.”

The goddess cocked her head to the side. “I meant, take these and hold onto them while I prepare the ceremony. But, I suppose that's on me. I'll try to be more careful with my wording in the future.”

“What happens now?” Zane asked as wisps of gray smoke began to escape from his ears. The young man felt incredibly warm. But he didn't think it was appropriate for him to strip naked in front of a woman, much less a goddess.

Off in the distance he could hear shouting and raised voices. Someone in the casino had either won big, or lost everything.

Foxglove reached over and took the clay bottle from Zane. She noted that it was also empty and gave him a look of begrudging respect. “Well, Zane. You just accepted the blessings of three different gods at once without bothering to perform the proper ceremonies.”

The shouting was getting louder and his skin felt like it was on fire. “Um… I don't know what any of that means.”

Foxglove shook her head. “I'm so sorry, I forgot you were an outsider. Normally I don't get to greet new souls, but you were too special to pass up.”

She gave Zane a peck on the cheek and stepped back, putting the broken machine between them. He could feel warmth spreading from where her lips brushed against his skin. It was different from the fire already growing inside of him.

Zane took a second to analyze this new sensation. It wasn't completely unpleasant. In fact, it reminded him of when he used to talk to his sister's friend on long car trips. He shook off the strange feeling. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Lady Foxglove. I hope we meet again.”

“We probably won't.” She replied from behind the machine. “Anything is possible, but I'd be very surprised if we did.”

“Why’s that?” Zane asked, confused at the mixed signals he was getting. First Foxglove had given him a kiss, then she ran away and hid. “Why don't you think we'll meet again? Is it because I'm a human and you're a goddess?”

Foxglove peeked her head out from behind the machine. “Broadly speaking, yes. But the main reason we will probably never meet again, is that you're about to explode.”

“Ah,” Zane said as he processed this new information, “That is a good reason.”

***

Zane woke up in darkness, which was pretty normal because he wasn't great at paying his utility bills on time. He yawned, wondering how much of the day had been a dream. The lady in the mask had definitely been something his imagination cooked up. Though, he wouldn't have been mad to find out she was real.

“What a weird dream,” Zane said as sat up.

“Yeah, what was it about?” a voice next to him asked.

Zane froze, realizing that he wasn't alone and also, judging by the stone floor beneath him, he wasn't in his apartment either. “Who are you?”

“Who wants to know?” the voice asked.

“I want to know.”

“Oh. In that case, it's me, Kiel. Let me get some light going, it's dark as a cave in here.” The voice chuckled at its own joke and began to chant. A few seconds later the room was flooded with bright white light.

Zane shrieked in surprise as he saw a red scaled lizard man half his height appear in front of him. Kiel pointed at the naked human that had somehow invaded his warren. “Uh, are you lost or something pal?”

“No, just dreaming,” Zane assured him, “I'll wake up any moment and be right out of your hair.”

“Oh, in that case, let me help ya.” The kobold walked over and grabbed a spear from the wall. He tested the tip with his finger and nodded. “Yeah, this should do the trick.”

Kiel whipped the spear around and stabbed it into Zane's chest. The young man looked down at it with shock and surprise as he died. A few seconds later his body disappeared, leaving no trace that he had even existed.

“Huh,” Kiel said as he watched the human vanish, “You don't see that every day.”