Ironic. My current situation can be summed up in that one word.  I do not know what sick god of fate has decided to laugh at me, but someone must have a gross sense of humor.  This irony is sickening.  I want to scream. I want to cry. I want to vomit.

But I can’t do much of that anymore.

I lift my head and gaze blankly at the trees that surround me.  I slowly take in the sea of green that stretches out almost endlessly in front of me.  The sky and sun peeks through occasionally, giving the forest a semi-lit appearance.  In the distance, ahead of me, is a set of mountains.  I watch as a squirrel slowly scurries in front of me, almost taking no note of my existence.

But that is not a normal squirrel.  It is 3 feet from head to tail, with sizable claws that look to be used for hunting.  I remain still as the monster moves along, still dumbstruck at my current situation. Yes, I am in “another world”.  A world with monsters, necromancy, and who knows what else.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

My head, although still swimming, calms down a reasonable amount.

I was not transported, but instead “reincarnated”.  I would like to say that whoever was responsible for reincarnating me is the lowest of scum.  I was in an accident while waiting to cross a street. A truck came careening into me and the various other bystanders there, and while I’m not sure what happened to them, I died.

Now most would be upset at this development because of their sudden death.  Their inability to say goodbye to their families. Their virgin status which would never go away.  These thoughts would be woes of the recently deceased.  But I was okay with death. I had no direction in my life, no drive.  I had no prospects of ever getting a girlfriend. So frankly, I was depressed. Pretty much suicidal, even.

So why? Why was this my result? Is this punishment because my wish for death somehow got others involved?  My wish was granted, with a fantastic twist like the monkey’s paw. I was now alive again, but I was dead.

I looked down at my white hand, before cradling my skull.

I, was a skeleton.