Disavowed: A Call of Duty Fanfiction

Prologue

The first thing to go when you're dying is your vision. You don't see black- no, you just don't see anything; not color, not brightness nor darkness, not shapes... Just nothing. You can strain to open your eyes, but for some reason, your brain can't decide if your eyes are closed and it can't open them, or if they're open and it can't make them see anything. Your eyes will flicker back and forth, desperately searching for something to see, but soon, they'll settle into the idea that they won't be of use anymore.

The last thing to go is your hearing. Whether or not you realize it, you can still hear everything going on; the stirring of the wind, the click-clack of shoes on the floor, the undisturbed chirping of birds as they flutter about the branches, the crisp rolling of tires on pavement...

The crying of friends and family as they learn that it's time to say goodbye... they're never prepared to say goodbye...

What no one tells you about death is that the scariest part is knowing it's coming. You can look into its face, feel its breath on your skin. It's like standing on a beam, knowing it's about to break under your weight, but there's no time to get off; you're trapped in the dread of the imminent fall.

Nor does anyone tell you that in the last ten minutes of life- or rather, the last ten minutes of the housing of the soul- you look back on your whole life in vivid detail. You can see the mistakes, you can see the blessings in disguise; you can see where things could have been different. Perhaps this is our final chance to accept what happened to us, forgive our trespasses, and come to peace with our life before it's over. Perhaps it gives us a chance to change our minds, and change our actions. But even if we had the chance...

Would we still go back and undo what we did?