Death Meet Cute | ONC 2022

Prologue

"Hey, Lou. I'm sorry, I won't bring it up again, alright? I'll be home soon; I'm just a block away, so don't lock me out. I love—" Reuben remembered the approaching headlights as he attempted to finish leaving his voicemail before everything faded to black.

At precisely the same time, in hospital room 208, a heart monitor flatlined for the long-term patient, Bruno, just as his world faded to black.

A white room greeted them both, void of anything other than a sign, and a desk manned by some transparent figure between them.

In bold letters, appeared on the sign:

WELCOME TO THE AFTERLIFE.

UNFORTUNATELY, YOU ARE DEAD;

FORTUNATELY, YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS,

PLEASE CONTACT THE HELP DESK.

CASPER WILL GLADLY ANSWER ALL YOUR QUESTIONS.

ENJOY YOUR ETERNAL STAY.

Reuben couldn't believe the sign. Dead? Afterlife? But as he took in his surroundings, with the desk door and empty room sans the person on the other side room, he truly was alone. Something straight out of some sci-fi movie, Reuben wondered, or if this was a dream, it had to be, right?

But as the other figure started walking closer to him, the message on the sign was beginning to sink in. Afterlife, huh? Am I really dead?

He stared at the ground, trying to collect his racing thoughts and remember. Why couldn't he remember where he was? Then like a chink in armor, small fragments started flashing in his mind.

Headlights. Phone call. Car. Glass.

Car crash? Was that how he died?

But he couldn't be dead, right?

Then a name crossed Reuben's mind. Louie. Louie. His fiancé, how could he forget?

No, I can't be here. Reuben wanted to shout. He needed to go back home to his fiancé.

But a voice cut through the silence of the white room, "I guess we both died at the same time then?"

Reuben shot a glare as the person approached him. They could see each other, fully intact and not transparent like the ghosts in movies and television shows depict to both of their surprises. Reuben must've worn the clothes he had died in—if he really was dead, that is. And judging by the man before him, it appeared he was a hospital patient, still wearing slip-resistant socks and plastic strips around his wrists.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Bruno. You?"

"Reuben," he replied hesitantly. "Are we really...dead?"

Bruno glanced up at the sign. "It appears so."

Reuben shook his head. "No, that can't be. This has got to be a mistake. I—I can't be dead. I was just going home and—and I.... "

"Died?"

"No! That's ridiculous. I have to go back," Reuben cried out. "I was in the middle of—I need to apologize to him and make up for earlier. I can't just let the day end on a sour note between—"

"Who?"

"My husband, of course!"

"Husband?"

Reuben sighed. "Well, fiancé. But he needs to know that I—"