Experiencing Death- A Wattpad Fanfiction

Chapter 1: I'm DEAD!?

Warning: macabre themes and swearing. Reader discretion is advised.

I wake up hours later in some sort of wooden thing. I start banging on it as hard as I could, trying to break loose. After a bit of trying, I succeeded, realizing that some fucknut buried me. I burst out of the ground, pulling myself up. I was filthy and I blink for a few minutes to get the dirt out of my eyes. I noticed the large, hexagonal moon in the sky first before taking in my surroundings. I deliberately ignore the grave because I can't read it due to the shadows blocking it. Then I turn to see myself in front of a large, wrought iron gate. I groan, sitting up. I didn't notice the tombstone behind me reading this particular engraving, since it was shrouded in shadows,

Here lies Alison May Black, An Amazing Soul. Birth: June 1, 2000. Death: August 9, 2024.

I wipe my eyes with a groan. "Ow..." I groaned. Then something clicked. I stare at my hands, which look chibi. And very rubberhose. Like it looked like I had a bright orange line work. "Wait, why do I look like I stepped out of a cartoon? How'd this happen?" I slap myself hard to see if I was awake. To my dismay, I wasn't dreaming. Then I checked out the wrought iron gate by peering through the slats. "No..." I breathed, recognizing the building that separated me from whatever horror was inside. The trees were twisted and dilapidated as if all of the life nearby was sucked out of them.

The lights are on, and the windows are stained with Tiffany glass. The front lawn had multiple different tombstones. I see that the front door looked like a coffin door, and the whole building looked like it came out of a wacky cartoon. I recognized the building immediately because I admit to playing Billie Bust Up a few times too many. "No, God, no!" I exclaimed, dismayed.

Then the wrought iron gates creaked open. I leap back. "I hope I never had to tangle with that thing in my life! I mean, I may be a fan but I don't want to be in the same room as that wretched ghosty birb boi! Much less the same building! I'm already in the same reality... so I'm in trouble already!" I mutter to myself.

For a good half hour, I worked up enough courage to approach the front door. I was about to ring the doorbell or knock when I paused. I realized that asking for help to go home was probably going to earn me a painful demise. I groan, pulling my lower eyelids. Then I turned away. "Nope. I don't have the cajones to deal with it. I don't wanna look at it, I don't wanna touch it, I don't wanna be within five kilometers of it." I groan. Then I fumbled for my phone. My dismay is imminent as I realized that my phone was not with me.

I was unaware that an orange ghost had taken notice of me. I step back. "Nope. Not going. No. Nuh-uh. No. NO!" I stubbornly said. I turn around and exhaled. "I guess finding an alternate route is the way to go. I know the rule of the universe like the back of my hand. Fuck around and-!"

I was interrupted by a door creaking open. I whip my head around and froze. The front door opened. I gulp, my anxiety through the roof. I was breathing shallowly and froze up when I hear a fruity voice call from within the manor, "I'll get the door! Oh-hoo-hoo-hoo!" I think it was male. But I can't tell.

I quickly hid in the bushes, knowing from experience that the owner of the manor is a lively one despite being... uh... living deficit. My eyes widen as I hear thundering footsteps. I shrink back. I had a bad feeling that I recognize the owner of this manor. My throat felt dry as I start edging away from the manor. 

That was when I bumped into something soft... feathery... and definitely bigger than me. I touch it a few times, since my brain wasn't exactly catching up with the moment. Then I slowly glance up the gargantuan being and wished that I hadn't. I force myself to look past the long and feathery legs... past the pink waistcoat... beyond the swirling rock that was sitting on a double Albert chain... and past the bowtie. I find myself gazing up into a pair of swirling orange eyes... with red pupils... and yellow sclera. I can see a tongue poking out of that purple outline I would force myself to call a beak. Those long ear feathers were trained on me. I squeak as his neck stretched to unnatural lengths to gaze at me in the face.

"Oh! A new guest!" The fruity voice exclaimed again, "Why... you don't have a mortal body! No flesh or bone! Hoo hoo hoo ha ha ha ha ha!" It took me a solid minute to register that something was wrong as he lifted me from the ground and swung me about joyously with his taloned feet before hugging me close with his wings. I yelp as he nuzzled me. Then I try to push away.

"What are you on about!?" I shrieked, trying to get loose. I was not exactly fond of strangers touching me. I try to squirm loose. But the being's grip tightened. Upon closer inspection, I realized that I was toe to toe with a long eared ghost owl.

"You're dead, little one!" The voice sounded a bit too happy telling me this. Then he took one of my hands with a wing and kissed it. "My name's Barnaby!" He sounded sleazy. It clicked. I shouldn't be here.

"Uh... Al." I didn't exactly feel comfortable giving out my full name to a ghost owl who is notorious for killing people.

The owl grinned creepily at me, and I gulp, trying to adjust my collar. "There has to be a mistake somewhere. I shouldn't be here. I-!" I try to explain why I was not supposed to be dead, but Barnaby shushed me with a talon to my lip.

"Little one, come in. We can't have you wearing those jeans and that dreadful top!" Barnaby instructed, ushering me into the depths of his manor. The first thing I noticed was the green wallpaper with the ghost, owl and bug motifs. Then I noticed that his manor was very crooked. It reminded me of the crooked man rhyme.*

I gaze up at him, forcing myself to ask the question, "Aren't you forgetting something?" I was dreading the token fee sphiel he usually does.

"Oh, no, no, no! You're dead! Pushing up daisies! Sleeping with the fishes!" Barnaby exclaimed a little bit too joyously.

It finally clicked after he tilted my chin up and flicked it with a talon with a joyful hoot: I'm dead. Which means that my dreams of owning a bakery were crushed to bits with a few sentences.

Wow! Two chapters of my new book! Enjoy!

* if you know what I'm talking about, then you know. If not, then you did not have a childhood.