(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

elieve I can die? Try and kill me then. See what happens."
He looked at me skeptically. "Nay, I think not, even if I felt the urge to do
so."
I stood up stiffly. "Then I shall force you to watch me: I'll show you what
death holds." I placed my hands around my head.
"What... do you mean?" He looks like he wants to turn away but he cannot.
"You can't seriously..."
I barely felt the snap as I broke my own neck.
Quick. Painless. I was glad so many I sent to the black embrace had so easy a
trip.
My vision slowly returned... my death felt different this time. As the dull
colors of the bar swam in my eyes, I noticed the boy standing above me... he
looked horrified and fascinated. He had propped me into the chair, and was
looking apprehensively at the other bar patrons... they didn't appear to have
noticed or had mistaken me for a drunk.
"Convinced now?" I groaned. Man, that left a real crick in my neck.
"Are..." he swallowed hard, "are you one of the walking dead?"
"No." I rumbled, still dizzy.
"Then what are you?"
I shook my head. "I don't know. But I die and am reborn."
"Yet... you still think, you still feel?"
My breath rattled in my throat as I put a hand against my chest. "Yes, but
there... there is a hollowness. Something is missing, and it eats at you, never
leaves you at peace." Speaking of it sent chills down my spine.
"To be dead... and still think and feel?! Will misery never leave a body be?"
The thought seemed to horrify him. "Even death is no release."
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