The Unwanted Encounter (Ash Lynx x Reader)

60) Afterlife

Weakly looking at Ash's eyes the last time, I finally died. Finally closed my eyes, fell into that pitch black, dark room where I was being held at every time I closed my eyes taking my last breaths.

I stood in that room, uneasily looked left and right, up and down to find something, someone. I forgot who I was, forgot where I was, forgot what I was, forgot what I was doing there.

"I don't remember." I said, looking at the darnkess ahead of me, looking at nothing.

Is this hell?

"You've done a lot of bad things." A voice said. His voice, it was calming to some extent, but nerve-wracking from the amount of power it held—it was deep, seductive, captivating, but scary.

"Like what?" I asked, spinning around to see what the source of the dim light was which took place after the voice.

"Well.. You betrayed your friends." He said, suddenly standing behind me, put his cold hand on my shoulder.

"I didn't.. I didn't do any of that.." I said in confusion, turned around to look at the voice which held his hand on my shoulder. He wore a black cloak over his body, face hidden behind a white mask—void of any human features, it was empty.

"I.. I wouldn't do that. No, I wouldn't do that." I repeated myself again, looking down at my feet which were covered in dark mist. "That couldn't be me."

"Would you remember if it was?" He asked, his voice neutral, calm.

"No.." I whispered, shook my head at his claims.

"Would you have written it down in your book?" He questioned, slowly circling around me with heavy steps.

"Which book?" I asked, straining my neck to the side to look at him as he slowly spun around me.

"Well.. You have bad memory, right?" He asked, disappearing into the black mist abruptly.

"Yeah.." I answered not paying much attention to what he said, eyes only staring at the disappearing cloak in front of me, stared at the black mist that took place instead of him.

"That's not good." I heard his voice echo again in the room, that dim-lit light which provided me to see him disappearing again, and the pitch dark enveloping me like it was previously.

"You're telling me.. I barely remember anything. That- that book you're talking about-"

"There." He said before a book dropped down at my feet.

"Is that the.." I knelt down, reached my hand for the book.

"Open it." He commanded once I picked it up, kneeling down.

"What's in it?" I asked, an uneasy feeling immediately settling in.

"Your sins." He simply answered, the merit of his words as heavy as multiply heavy rocks crashing you on the shoulder.

I swallowed the dry lump in my throat, nervously looked at the cover of the book. I opened the big, bulky book nonetheless, stared at the first page—it was someone's life span, mine. It was as if I was watching a movie in the book, a movie of me—my life.

It began when I was born. My mother held me in her arms after giving birth to me, my father sat next to her, in tears. He went to sit next to my mother, gently warped me in his arms as he kissed the top of my forehead, promising me and my mother to fulfill his role as a father, and a partner.

"Let's skip the boring part, shall we?" The man in the cloak jumped in front of me out of the black mist, knelt down so he could look at my memories with me.