Hello darkness my old friend…
They say when you lose one sense, the others get heightened. They weren’t wrong.
He could feel his back on something soft…and leathery? His back. So he’s no longer in spectral form. How exciting.
Maybe he was delusional after the explosion and now they got him in the hospital. They must have pumped him full of pain meds, since he feels pretty much pain-free. Knock on wood it stays this way.
Mentally of course since he can’t move his arms. Or his legs. Or the rest of his body. It might seem traumatic but considering he thought he died. It’s not that bad. Also it’s way better than being stuck in some vacuum with no light or sound. That would drive anybody insane.
Speaking of sound, he could hear a low, comforting buzz. Very familiar. He would guess it to be the sound of an AC. Very nice.
Although the temperature is alright, it could be taken down a few-
[50%…]
Oh? Maybe he’s not delusional?
[69%…]
Or he’s still delusional.
[99%…100.]
[Updates complete. Restarting.]
[brain: stabilized]
So he is dead. Panic. He could feel the signs of an oncoming panic attack. Why are you doing this to me mind? NOT NOW.
He grabbed the thoughts and shoved them to the very back of his mind. He’s very good at that. It’s a talent that comes with his procrastination ability. He made a list of priorities mentally..
First: try to move and check surroundings.
He wiggled his toes. Check.
Wiggle some fingers. Check.
Ok.
Now a full body wiggle. A sigh of relief. Everything works. Now he needs to open his eyes. Something he’s been putting off. His own version of burying his head under the sand. If he can’t see them, they can’t hurt him. Not feeling quite as nonchalant as he was acting after all.
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
1,2,3 open.
A well lit wood ceiling came into view as his eyes adjusted to the sudden light from the dozen of aesthetically positioned hanging fixtures. He sat up slowly to avoid getting light-headed. Honestly he didn’t know how long he was in a comatose state. His sense of time had never been the best and it can only be worse with all the current stressful events.
Automatically his eyes focused on his body. Looks the same. There’s even that same mole on the back of his left hand. The scar from that time a pencil stabbed into his right palm remained stubbornly the same as well.
His mind felt slightly better with the familiarity after all the bizarre changes. Something so simple and taken for granted most of the time felt so comforting to him now.
With that thought, he drank in his surroundings. His eyes were hungry for something that wasn’t darkness or his own burnt corpse.
A delicately decorated wooden room with a sofa set in the middle. The leather sofas that he had been laying on. A sliding ladder rests on the far left side of a wall of books that reaches all the way to the ceiling. There was a counter with bar stools and a couple round table sets near the door. A glass door you would find in a store or in this case what looks like a bookstore cafe of sorts.
It was dark outside of the store, lit only by a single lamppost. He walked closer to get a better view. It was snowing. The snowflakes slowly drifted down and blanketed the road with a thin layer of white that glowed in the small ring of light.
He laid his palm against the glass.
Cold.
***
It was a freezing day. His breath snuck out the top of his mask and made his glasses fog up.
He glanced around.
Not that many people. He took off the mask and took a deep breath, the icy air circulating in his lungs giving him a delightful sense of clarity and awakeness.
He rubbed his stiff hands. His gloves lay forgotten on the kitchen table back home. Whatever, it was too late to turn back for them. He was already running late for the class. Thank goodness it was the only one today. No work either. He can finally have a day for himself.
The group gathered for some picture taking in the natural areas of campus for the first big project. He walked along the boardwalk, scanning for the dude who’s profile picture he had tried to memorize off the school canvas website. There were a couple others in the group but they weren’t sure they could make it.
He walked past a group of girls more invested in their phones than the natural scenery or each other. There was a dude fishing by himself. Was that even allowed? Likely a last minute counter-stress measure with how he was awkwardly struggling with the pole. Relatable. He had discovered so many new hobbies because of stress. They never lasted.
“Hi!” A voice interrupted his silent amusement.
He turned around and his brain raced to match the face to the profile picture. His facial blindness did nothing to help.
“Hey…”
“Sorry I’m late. I had to turn back for my phone. I forgot it was in the bag of rice after I dropped it into the pool a couple days ago. Gotta take pictures somehow.”
“It’s fine. I just got here not too long ago anyways.”
“Cool! So nice to finally meet you by the way! I’m Eric.”
“I’m Tom.”
***
[Welcome back Master Tom.]
Tom jumped as he whirled around towards the sudden voice. An old man with snow-white hair dressed in a butler outfit had appeared at the counter without him even realizing.
“Who are you? Are you the owner of this place? You scared the shiz out of me.” His heartbeat echoed in his ear.
“Wait…master? Huh?”
[You are the new master of The Store. I am your assistant, #6325.]
“I’ve really died and reincarnated haven’t I?”
[You’re not wrong.]
“That’s ok. I’ve prepared for this. All that reading wasn’t for nothing,” Tom tried to reassure himself.
“What do I need to do and what is my golden finger?”
[Golden finger? I’m afraid I do not understand. However, as the current owner of The Store, you are expected to take customers who wander in from time to time.]
“What happens if I refuse?”
[Nothing. You will be returned to the original body if you do not wish to partake in this role any longer.]
How tf is that nothing! So that means I’m dead if I don’t play along…i don’t even get a golden finger what kind of bs is this.
“I think this sounds interesting, I’ll give it a try for sure.”
[As you wish.]
Silence…
[Would you like a coffee?]
“...yes please.”