The Day Death Died

The Day Death Died - Chapter 3

My hands instinctively went to the jagged piece of metal protruding from my stomach. The pain was searing, sharp, like nothing I had ever felt before. My fingers wrapped around the cool, rusted metal, and I tugged—hard.

"No! Don't do that!" Emily screamed, grabbing my hands, her voice panicked and shaky. "You'll make it worse, Maddy. Please don't!"

"It hurts... Oh God, it hurts so bad," I groaned, every breath sending shockwaves of agony through my body.

"I know, I know," Emily whispered, her voice quivering. "Just hold on, okay? Help is coming. You just have to hang in there."

I nodded weakly, my vision blurring around the edges. I could hear sirens in the distance, but they seemed to be fading, not getting closer. Was I imagining it? Were they really going the other way?

"Did you see it?" I rasped, struggling to keep my focus.

"See what?" Emily asked, her face twisted in confusion as she pressed her jacket against my wound, trying to stem the bleeding.

"Death," I whispered. "He was here. I stabbed him."

"Maddy, what are you talking about?" Emily asked, her eyes wide. "There's no one here but us. No one, okay? I don't know how you're still alive, but you are. You just need to stay with me."

Her words barely registered. The pain was consuming me, pulling me under like an ocean current. Emily's voice started to fade into the background, becoming distant, even though she was right there, holding me. The world around me was slipping away.

"I'm... I'm so tired," I muttered, feeling my eyelids grow impossibly heavy.

"No! You can't fall asleep, Maddy. Stay with me. Please!" Emily's voice was frantic, her grip on my hands tightening as if she could physically keep me awake through sheer willpower.

"Just... just a quick nap," I mumbled, my eyes closing despite her protests. "I'll be fine. Just need to... rest."

I could hear Emily screaming my name, but her voice was becoming muffled, distant, as darkness finally overtook me. I slipped into the void, feeling nothing but coldness seeping into my bones.

"Maddison Sinclair."

My eyes snapped open. The pain was gone. Completely. I blinked, trying to make sense of where I was. Everything was grey, muted, as if the world had been drained of color. The mall, the chaos of the crash, Emily's frantic voice—all of it felt like a distant memory.

I stood, disoriented, and looked around. I was still in the parking lot, but something was wrong. My body was lying a few feet away, limp, blood pooling beneath me. Emily knelt beside me, her face streaked with tears, screaming for help. She was shaking my body, her hands soaked in blood. My blood.

"Oh my God," I whispered, taking a step back. "I'm dead."

"Not quite," a voice said from behind me.

I turned sharply to see a man leaning casually against the wrecked wall of the building. He was tall—very tall—with pale skin that seemed to glow in the muted light. His jet-black hair was slicked back, and he wore a sharp, tailored suit, the kind you'd expect to see on someone attending a funeral. His dark eyes glittered with something between amusement and annoyance.

"Who... who are you?" I stammered, my heart—or whatever I had now—pounding in my chest.

He straightened, adjusting his suit jacket before walking toward me with slow, deliberate steps. "You have really messed up my plans, Maddison."

"What? What plans? What's going on?" I demanded, my voice trembling as I glanced back at Emily, who was still desperately trying to revive me.

The man sighed dramatically, as though I was an inconvenience in his otherwise perfect day. "You," he said, pointing to my body on the ground, "are not supposed to be like that."