“Damian! Damian!” a familiar voice said.

There was a bright light, and Damian Nesbitt opened his eyes. Looking around, he realized he was inside an ambulance. He had no idea how he got there. The last thing he remembered was buying some tortilla chips and guacamole for a Halloween party at his dormitory. He noticed his clothes were tattered and bloodstained, and there was an IV stuck near the top of his forearm. The ambulance jostled. He caught a whiff of a sterile scent like rubbing alcohol. He suddenly felt cold and looked back at the IV in his arm, trying to keep it still as the ambulance made a turn, which pulled his body weight to one side of the bed.

Seeing a paramedic monitoring a computer, Damian tried to get his attention. “Excuse me,” he said, “What happened?”

The paramedic turned around, revealing a black goatee on his rugged face. With a warm smile, he replied, “I thought you might be waking up soon. You had quite the car accident.”

Suddenly, a memory flashed into Damian's mind: When he was driving home, a blue station wagon ran a red light into the intersection. Damian had tried to brake, but it was too late. They collided. “What hospital are you taking me to?” asked Damian.

The paramedic grimaced. “It's kind of hard to say,” he said.

“What do you mean?” asked Damian. He looked out the window to try to figure out what part of town they were in. However, it appeared that the ambulance was flying higher than the clouds in the night sky, thousands of miles above the surface of the earth. He pinched himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

“Oh you're dreaming alright,” said the paramedic, “But a pinch isn't going to wake you up.”

“So none of this is real?” asked Damian, “Am I asleep right now?”

“You’re asleep, but I’m afraid this is all quite real,” said the paramedic, “You died about an hour ago. Your heart officially stopped at 12:10 AM on October 31. Only 19 years old, what a tragedy!”

“What?” said Damian, “How can I be dead? I don't feel dead.”

“Well that's because I put your soul on life support,” said the paramedic, “That's what that thing is attached to your arm. It’s to help you have a smoother transition to the afterlife.”

“Who are you?” asked Damian, “I take it you're not really a paramedic.”

“Yeah, I put on this outfit so I don't freak people out too much,” said the paramedic, “There's a lot for someone to process after dying.” He took off his outer coat, revealing a pair of magnificent angelic wings. Armed with a sword attached to his waist, the angel’s golden breastplate reflected light and brightened the inside of the entire ambulance. He reached out to shake hands as he said, “You can call me Steve. I was your guardian angel, and I ought to ask you to forgive me because, as you can probably figure out, I did a pretty botched up job of guarding your life.”

“So that's it?” asked Damian, “My life is officially over?”

“Not exactly,” said Steve, “Life doesn't have to end when you die. But before I can get more into that, we have an urgent situation related to your body. I'll explain when we get to my office.”

“I still don’t get what you meant when you said I was dreaming but that this is all real,” said Damian.

“You’re not physically awake,” said Steve, “You’re in a state of consciousness comparable to a dream, but this is not your imagination nor your subconscious. This is reality. Now, you're going to have to hold on tight because we're about to transverse the fifth dimension.”

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

The ambulance flew so high that the sun peeked over the earth's horizon. Then, the moon and the stars around them began to stretch in a very odd way as they went through what appeared to be a wormhole. When they got to the other side, the earth was visible on the other side of some kind of portal.

They were now in the spiritual realm, where light reflected in a manner that made the sky a hue of pink, with various planets and astronomical phenomena suspended across the firmament. The ambulance flew toward a gigantic hovering disc, with a blinding white light glowing in the center of it and a marvelous shining city resting on top. On one side of the hovering disc, a tiny hangar door opened, and the ambulance flew inside.

The ambulance hovered above the concrete floor of the hangar for a few seconds as the the four anti-gravity emitters underneath the vehicle converted themselves back into normal wheels.

After they both got out of the car, Damian followed Steve across the small hangar until they stopped at a door. The angel took out a set of keys to unlock it.

“So what is this, Heaven?” asked Damian as he followed Steve down a long hallway with several offices.

“Well, 'Heaven' literally means sky, and we are technically in the sky, so... yes?” answered Steve, “To be more specific, we are in Paradise. This is an overlapping point between the Kingdom of God and the experience of humanity.”

“Just curious, if this is Heaven, then what enabled me to come here instead of going to the other place?” asked Damian.

“Every day you have a choice,” said Steve, “You can either choose life or you can choose death. And you've chosen life. Let me know if you change your mind.”

“I think I’m good,” said Damian, “But who would choose death?”

“That's a great conversation that we don't have time for right now,” said Steve as he opened a door with his name inscribed on it, “Come in and take a seat.” Inside what looked like a detective’s office, Steve sat down behind an executive desk. Behind him was a large cork board with various newspaper clippings pinned.

Damian took a seat in a chair positioned in front of the angel’s desk.

“Would you believe me if I told you that you didn't die by accident?” asked Steve.

Damian crossed his arms and said, “Please don't tell me that God allowed me to get killed for some mysterious reason.”

“You were murdered,” said Steve bluntly.

Damian raised an eyebrow and said, “I don’t think someone running a red light really counts as a murderer.”

“He was drunk,” said Steve.

“Okay, then what’s your point?” asked Damian, a little confused.

“I’m not saying the driver murdered you. I believe there was an evil spirit who orchestrated your death by encouraging that fellow to drive after drinking,” said Steve.

“I suppose that makes a little more sense,” said Damian, “But why would a spirit want me dead?”

The angel thought for a moment how to explain and said, “You know how when you split an atom, it releases an explosion of energy? Same thing happens when you split a soul from a body, only this is spiritual energy, and some spirits want to absorb it all for themselves. They're immaterial so they can't touch anyone, but they can whisper bad ideas into someone's ear or generate feelings like depression. Then, they just position themselves for when the sacrifice happens.”

“What do they do with the energy?” asked Damian, “Why do they want it?”

“It takes energy to interact with the physical realm,” said Steve, “Some tasks, like flickering lights require very little energy. But if someone wants to make a visible manifestation or even possess someone's body, they'll need a lot more. Because of this, energy is used as a type of currency in the spiritual realm.”

“Do you know the spirit you suspect of murdering me?” asked Damian.

“Not personally, no,” said Steve, “But I think I know how to capture it.”

“You mentioned there was a situation with my body,” said Damian.

“Yes,” said Steve, “I have reason to think that the spirit who murdered you intends to take possession of your body. But I’m not going to let that happen. Would you be willing to help me?”

“Sure, I mean it’s my body after all,” said Damian, “I’m not sure exactly how I can help though.”

Steve tried to act confident, but he couldn’t help but reflect on his words: I’m not going to let that happen. He used the exact phrase yesterday, telling his angelic supervisor that he would stop the evil spirit from killing Damian. But he had failed. And he couldn't afford to fail again.