A Dance With Death

|| Chapter 2 - Betrayal ||

I'm in a strange place. All I find around me is bright white light. The light seems to have no source and no end. It's just an endless stretch of illumination. I can't locate any walls or any other substance: it's just me. I am not even sure whether this is even reality.

I look down to find myself sitting on a black arm-less chair. I myself am dressed in black, in contrast to my surroundings. Where the hell am I? What the hell's going on?

I stand up and look around. The room - or whatever it is - is completely empty. I take a few steps forward and gulp.

"Hello?" I say and my voice echoes in the room, even if there is nothing around to reflect my sound. I am surprised to hear my voice shriller than usual. "Anyone?!" I shout.

After the echo dies down, silence dawns upon the room. I turn around to look at the chair, but it's nowhere to be seen. I gasp in shock at its sudden disappearance.

"O-okay," I stutter. "Is someone around here? Because this is not funny." My pulse rises as I speak those words. This seems so unreal and I'm sure that this is a dream. I know that I'll wake up screaming the next morning. But there's an eerie feeling about this place. This is not anything like my previous dreams.

"Hey Zayn," a voice says behind me, causing me to jump slightly. "Long time no see." The voice is really familiar even though it's been a long time since I heard it. My body starts to tremble as I turn around, shutting my eyes and praying that it's not the person I think it is. I open my eyes and freeze.

This is not happening. This is another nightmare.

There he stands, just a couple of feet away from me, with his hands in his pockets. He's wearing the same blue suit he wore at his funeral. His hair is messy. His eyes are piercing into my skin. He does not say or do anything. There's no emotion on his face only that it shows signs of fatigue and weakness. His face has lost its grace. He is just staring at me. It seems as if a stranger has taken over my friend's body.

"N-Niall?" I say involuntarily. He says nothing and doesn't remove his eyes from me. "Am I dreaming?" I ask, whether to myself or to Niall, I don't know.

He finally shows movement, shaking his head and looking at his feet. "Does this seem like a dream to you?" he says, his voice frighteningly monotonous. "Are dreams this vivid?" He looks back at me again.

"Not a dream?" I ask, ignoring his strange behavior. If this is not a dream, what else could it possibly be? He is right, however. Dreams aren't this strange. The mind cannot create such realistic illusions while one is asleep.

Finally, it strikes me.

"I'm dead," I say and grimace. "Aren't I?"

"Kinda," he says plainly.

"What do you mean?"

He doesn't answer and turns his back towards me. I catch a glimpse of a smile on his face. Not the good kind. This is becoming strange. This is not Niall, I keep thinking to myself. Niall isn't so scary.

But if I am dead - 'kinda' dead - then this means that this is the afterlife. A chill goes down my spine as I think of it. Does that mean he's really Niall? Is he acting strange because of what the afterlife did to him? Or is it because of what I did to him?

"I know you have questions," Niall says as he paces forward, walking away from me. "But I'm not in a position to answer them."

"Wait," I say as I walk towards Niall, reaching my hand out to him. He stops abruptly and turns around to face me.