Cold. The air was cold. David assumed that hell would be warmer, but that was just an assumption. It was cold and dark. Very dark actually. No wait...
David opened his eyes to an odd scene, very unlike what he assumed. Instead of fire and a dark red demon, it was his killer, still pointing the gun. The bullet had just exited the chamber and was directed for David's heart. After a while of standing and gawking, David realized that he was still capable of movement. The air around him seemed thicker than usual and it was tough to move his legs, but eventually he got used to it.
Sadly, David couldn't even just talk to himself because from what he found, no sound was capable of traveling in this state. An odd feeling of mortality suddenly struck him, and if it weren't for the lack of sound he would've made one of those sad sighs you make when something happens that you can't take back.
After a couple hours of loafing around and gettin' all philosophical up in here, David noticed the saddest part of this mess. His coffee, so lovingly prepared by that nameless server, was halfway through being thrown through the air with little specks of liquid all around. Slowly, he walked over to the cup and grabbed hold of it in midair. The cup did as his hand told it, however it felt sticky to move. After about three seconds of contemplating, he maneuvered the cup to contain all the droplets of coffee, placed the lid onto the top of the cup itself, and placed gently onto the small, waist high wall on the side of the alley.
After even more contemplation, David grabbed hold of the bullet that was originally aimed at his chest with his thumb and index finger, and rotated it 180 degrees so it was pointed directly at his attacker's chest. Not nearly satisfied, David opened up his assailant's jacket and removed his wallet, phone, ID, and removed the revolver from his hand. The wallet contained roughly $160 and three credit cards with different names on them. Also included was his drivers license and a one free ice cream cone card at Ben and Jerry's. The phone was Apple, and the ID stated his name: Frankie M. Adrian. Pocketing all of it, David felt satisfied and sat down next to his coffee.
Although his first instinct said that this was the afterlife, his mind kept coming up with scenarios to make this fate escapable. Maybe this is the rapture. Or some sixth grade science project gone wrong. Maybe God decided that I'm to important to die by a simple mugger. David, now inspired to escape, stood up and grabbed his coffee. Racking his brain for a solution, he suddenly realized that just before Frankie pulled the trigger, David's jaw shot open and his body produced the sound of one word. Stop.
By his own logic, if one word stopped time, why not say another to make it go again? Although no sound came out of his mouth, he still formed the words.
"Go."
"Um, play?"
"Continue!"
"Damn... How about... Resu-"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~AN~~~~~~~~~~~
And that's chapter two! If you liked that, tell me to do chapter three!
(I've actually had chapter three ready since chapter one came out because I like to be prepared!) Also, sorry for having these chapters so short, this one's about 600 words including this but I write all of these on my phone because my brother would laugh at me if I wrote it on the computer.
