Savage

Chapter 1

My eyes open instantaneously and my breath hitches. I sit up with no memory of crawling into bed last night. I reach up and touch the right side of my head, which is throbbing and pulsating. I must've hit my head on something last night, maybe that's why I'm feeling so blank minded.

I hang my feet off the side of the bed and stand up. The floor wasn't freezing cold for once. That's surprising. I walk over to my bathroom that's across the hall, prepared to do my morning business, but I don't feel the need to. Strange.

God my head hurts. I rub my head more. I need my coffee. I head downstairs to the kitchen. I glide my hand across the smooth marble counter, approaching the coffee pot. I reach up and open the cabinet and grab my coffee mug, and suddenly it slips through my hand. Not through my fingers, no, through my whole fucking hand. It falls to the ground and shatters everywhere. I expected to look down and see cuts and scraps on my bare legs from the shards of glass, but no, not a single scratch.

Fuck cleaning up the glass, I need to sit down. I avoid the glass and make my way to the living room.

"What the fuck!?" I back against the wall, staring down at the floor. Gun clutched in one hand and eyes forever staring off into nothingness, I was laying on the floor in my own blood right before my eyes.

I mean, it looked like me, but... This is impossible. I back off of the wall and step closer to the man on the ground, trying to get a better look.

"What a shame." A voice called out behind me. I whip my head around to face him. A tall, tan figure with a little stubble on his face, though he did have a nice mustache started but his beard was a sorry excuse, was standing in the room. He approached me, dusting off his long black coat. This dude is a walking model.

"Who the fuck do you think you are!? You can't just fucking come in my house! Who the hell are you!?"

"Forgive me," He placed his hand over his heart. "I didn't want to intrude, but how else was I supposed to come in?" I gave him a dirty look. "What? I wasn't going to knock on the door, it's not like you could've opened the door for me."

"What are you fucking talking about?"

He chuckled. "Spirits can't answer doors. Sure they can open them, but you haven't been dead long enough to have that type of strength."

Dead? He's joking right? I stare angrily at him, he's literally just talking bull shit.

"What? You think I'm joking? Honey I am Muerte." He held his arms open as if showing something off that wasn't there.

I burst out laughing. "Oh please, first you tell me that I'm dead," I make air quotes. "and now you expect me to believe that you're death?"

"How else would I know where to find you, Daniel?"

"Ok it's bad enough that you broke into my house, but now you're just being a fucking stalker."

"I didn't break in, I just fazed through the wall. "

"I don't care what you did! Just get the fuck out of my house!" I grit my teeth.

"Oh don't worry I will, but," he paused. Well keep going, I don't want to fucking wait to hear the shit, I want to get this over with as quickly as possible.  "You have to come with me."

"I'm not going with you anywhere. I'm staying right here with my coffee and my pill bottles."

He chuckled again. "You really don't get it do you? You're dead. Nothing you did in your worthless life even matters anymore. None of the abuse towards people, none of the suicide attempts, not even your coffee. You're dead. Everything is done with."

"The more you talk, the harder I'm laughing my ass off. I can't sit here and listen to someone literally tell me a bunch of bull shit that I'm supposed to believe. Please. You're fucking worse than my damn parents." My parents literally tried to force religion upon me, as if that was going to make me see life as being meaningful. Life is literally pointless no matter what. Not one single religion can change that. And it's sad how much they tried pushing God on me, as if I'm supposed to bow down to a fucking myth.

"You're really making this hard on yourself. Look, I can't leave you here. It is my job to take you to your new place."

"I don't need a new place, I just need you to get the fuck out."

"Well that's not going to happen anytime soon. I can't leave without you." He went over and sat on my couch.

I huffed. "Fine. Whatever. Just don't try anything because I will fucking bash your head into something. And don't expect me to just move in somewhere, we're just fucking looking." Whatever it'll take to get this guy to leave me alone.

"Excellent." He smirked and stood up. "Now, follow me." He waited for me to actually walk beside him.

We walked past my kitchen and then towards the front door. He gripped my arm. "Trust me." Don't fucking try me with this gay shit.

As if it were nothing, he fazed through the wall. This is impossible. And just when I thought it couldn't be more shocking, I was being pulled through the wall and out onto my front porch.