The Tale of a Lost Soul. Part 1

Stale vomit isn't the taste you want in your mouth when you die. I guess I should have thought of that before hand. I drank a bit too much that night. To be honest, I'd been drinking a bit too much every night for the last five years. I'm not really sure exactly how or when I died. I could have fallen and hit my head. It was a dark alley, I could have been mugged. However, judging from that obscene taste in my mouth, I probably passed out and choked on my own puke. Dignified to the very end. That's me. I'm not really sure if my thoughts were typical of the newly deceased. My case of the common Death was only temporary, and I've yet to have a relapse. So I guess I'll just have to wait my turn again to make a comparison. Don't you just hate being sent to the back of the line? I'm skipping ahead though, you really shouldn't let me do that. Shame on you.

It took me a few minutes to figure out that I was dead. Seeing my own body lying in a heap of refuse and covered by the leavings of a chamber pot should have clued me in, but I was new to the whole dead thing. My first real inkling came when I heard someone clear their throat behind me.

"Ahem. Khamion Reece?" The voice was very polite in that terse, official sort of way that bureaucrats are born to.

I made a startled little noise reminiscent of a pinned mouse and whirled around.

"Who's there?" I asked. It was a stupid thing to say, but when does anyone ever say the right thing when they're frightened?

"I am." The voice repliead sarcastically."Let me repeat myself. Are you Khamion Reece? I'm on a tight schedule here and I want to make sure I have the right alley."

"Aaaahhh. Yes, I am. My friends call me Kham though."

"I assure you,"came the voice as the shadows stirred, "I am not here to be your friend."

I could barely make out two balefully burning embers in the darkness at about eye level. I was more than a little shocked when I realized they were, in fact, eyes. They were also moving steadily in my direction. I tried to run, but I couldn't, those hellish eyes held me transfixed more effectively than any spear could have. I could do nothing but wait in that eternity of terror as the shadows slowy coalesced into a very large, very black mastiff. That giant dogs feral grin seemed strangely human. All the more so when that mild, urbane voice I'd been hearing impossibly came from the dog's muzzle.

"You needn't fear for your life, Khamion Reece. I'm not here to hurt you."

"And I'm supposed to believe a talking dog?

It chuckled wryly. "If I were here to do you harm, I'm far too late." My eyes followed as it gestured with its muzzle in the direction of my corpse, just as it truly dawned on me what I was looking at.A corpse. A dead body. Most importantly, my dead body

I.

Was.

Dead.

It laughed again, a low chuckle reminiscent of gravel rolling down a slate roof. It wasn't a pleasant sound.

"I see you understand. Now hurry up. We have a long trip ahead of us."

"Excuse me?" I said, slightly surprising myself with a sudden burst of spine, "I am not going off into a dark alley with a giant talking mongrel. I may be dead, but I'm not crazy."

"Suit yourself. You can wander the realm of mortals for as long as you like and I am forbidden to stop you. Know this though. Jessica and Camlin are waiting for you."

My wife and son, both dead for five years. She died in childbirth and he followed her to the grave within an hour. He really knew how to hit below the belt."You bastard!" I hissed, all resistance fading from me in an instant. "Alright, lead the way." I said weakly."By the way, what should I call you?" Flames spang up around him and his eyes burned like suns and from what seemed like a great distance I heard him reply.

"Call me Smoke. Now follow closely and don't get lost. There are things out here that are worse than death."