Wake, child, and gaze up at the stars. An ethereal voice spoke into Crow's mind. Ah… It's hot. The burning sensation in both his throat and body, had not yet subsided. Who knew getting shot would hurt? He criticized himself.
Crow had not been able to see much of anything. Being dead typically meant you had to act the part, so he kept his eyes unfocused.
The smell of flames had left the room only minutes ago, and yet his very soul felt like it was on fire. Squirming. He felt the key slide into his chest— it was fluid and liquid like.
This is… disgusting. It broke off into pieces and dug into his veins. Crow gritted his teeth. Like mercury slipping through vents, it slickly traveled and funneled out throughout his entire body, completely merging with his being. As it traveled through nerves, it struck his eyes and a scene unfolded before his eyes.
A black void, an empty background, filled with violet pastels and white, orange, and blue sparks. Enormous balls of fire that threatened to swallow worlds with their heat. It was an immaculate, breath taking sight. Not that Crow was breathing in the first place; knowing it could only be one place, enlightenment washed clarity over his mind.
This must be what they call "space". As he thought it, the landscape slowly transposed with another. This time, it revealed a large, purple ball of flames. A violet star. It was unassumingly beautiful, magnificent even, but that was not what caught attention.
Vision narrowed and once more everything became within scope for the young man. Betwixt the core, and chromosphere, laid a palace adorned with constellations. Atop a menacing indigo spire, was a woman; radiant, ethereal, andd nothing but divine.
Countless veils concealed her face, yet her teal ringed eyes shone through their cloth. She craned her head and stared directly into Crow's eyes— or where they should've been.
Ah. She knows… How does she know I'm here?
The young man did not panic, though clear, his mind felt sluggish. Not as calculating as usual as if taken hold of by some mysterious force.
"It is not here where you belong, Merrow," her voice was filled with certainty. "Our blood is like sugar and wine. They do not mix easy," she spoke to him like they had known each other their whole lives.
"Listen now, young Merrow. There will come a time, where you'll have to decide; your life over mine."
Wisdom flowed from her voice as it had come from the stream of knowledge itself. Hold on. What's the stream of knowledge? Why do I know about it?
It matters not. It had never mattered in the first place. Not to someone easily corruptible by the insanity that lay beyond yonder. The world that the scene held began to blur. The young man's mind felt a subtle tug, static at the back of his mind once more. It was a familiar feeling, one that crept up on him from the depths of his sanity.
"Focus, Crow." His name rolled off her tongue elegantly. Her tone was calm and sweet— creamy and sweet like white chocolate. Crow remembered what he was here for. He honed his mind and the scene concentrated itself back into its beautiful image. It would not hold, it could not hold.
"Human psyche isn't built for this… omniscience," The woman conjured a chair and sat. She folded her hands neatly on her lap, and let the stellar winds from the ball of flames she rode, guide the folds of her gown.
Who are you?
"What. 'What are you?' That's the question you should've asked. But I'll answer you. I am the person that knows you best, I know you better than you know yourself," she said. "You are nothing more than a line on the palm of my hands," she declared.
That hasn't answered my question. Tell me then, how do I know you?
The woman hesitated. "You will come to know me— and when you do…" She trailed off. The black expanse of space suddenly became darker. The light of the stars, the elegant balls of flame, all extinguished. All but the violet star the woman rode, its flames burned brighter in this moment.
The woman pursed her lips and frowned. She rose from her seat, and snapped her fingers. Ribbons of twilight formed and drifted away from the palace. They slowly headed in Crow's direction. At last they landed gently upon him, and began to envelop his soul.
"It appears we've wasted our time together. Crow, we will meet again," a bitter smile found its way onto the woman's face. "When we do, I want you to choose—"
The scene broke, shattered into pieces. That left Crow with the darkness. Small, claustrophobic, enclosed. A primordial darkness. Something Crow knew well.
***
"…Row… ake." What? "Up." A voice. Someone familiar, yet the man could not yet put his finger on who. "Crow, wake up!"
Crow Merrow jolted awake, his body shooting up from his bed in a panic. Sweat. Warm, sticky condensation stuck to his spine, lips, and eyes. He blinked, once, twice, thrice, then paused. All around him stood the same old flaky grey drywall. Cold. Moist. Crow inhaled—
It smells like bleach.
Familiar, recognizable… different. Something had changed. He glanced at his hands, half expecting them to be coated in blood. But there was nothing. He stopped moving.
What was I…? Oh. Right. Voice.
His eyes scanned the room, searching for someone. Anyone. No one was there. Aside from the flaky drywall, there was the gentle droning of the AC, the beeping of a heart monitor, and the sound of saliva trickling down his sore throat whenever he swallowed.
Something was wrong. Missing.
Crow tried to indentify it, tried to understand what was missing— but he couldn't put his finger on it.
Liz… Liz. Liz!
The image of bedridden sister snapped into Crow's mind. Finally, he had identified what was missing, the source of his worry was now apparent.
He pushed off of the hospital bed. Standing up, he stumbled over to the door just ahead of him, all while his hand ran along the wall for balance. Crow could feel the iron draining actively, and his vision blurring was just another hint to an already obvious answer.
Yet, with no one in his vicinity to help, he mustered up the strength to keep walking and ignored his worsening condition.
As he stepped out of his room, he noticed something odd about the hospital. It was empty. Empty, as in deserted. Empty like a ghost town. Another thing, the hallway was warm.
What, am I gonna be cooked up in hell's kitchen now?
Crow groaned and walked down the hall. Tap. Tap. Tap. His sluggish steps were like thunderbolts slamming against concrete in contrast to the silence of the place.
Rise and fall. Rise and fall. The stomach violently responded to his reckless movements. Bile gushed upward, and tried to escape through his throat. A hand clamped down his mouth— his own— and repressed it.
Go. Go. Keep going and don't stop.
Crow's knees buckled, and he collapsed upon himself. Thud! The sound announced his marriage. Yes. Together, me, myself, and I, forever belong to the dirt.
There was no dirt. Only the cold hard floorboards of a waiting room. Sticky. Moist. Droplets of water flattened to streams and flowed down his face. Sweat.
Something's wrong… Why is something wrong?
Slow. Slowly. Creep. Creeping. Something twisted its lips. Not Crow. It couldn't have been. A smile, slowly crept up his face. Happy. I am happy.