Chapter Three
Quinn was sleeping.
At least… he thought he was.
He could feel warmth tugging at his skin from every angle. This felt nice. "Here" felt peaceful…
Though he couldn't fully wrap his head around everything. Not where he was. Not why he could only see black.
But it was like a paradise his poor ass never sat in before dying.
Suddenly, a deep, charismatic voice rang in his head.
"Are you awake?"
Quinn panicked inwardly,
'Who the hell is that?'
He peeped left through the corner of his eye… Oh boy, he forgot he could only see black.
Wait, why was he even here? What's this place like? A void? Or…
The voice cascaded again, this time much louder,
"I know you are. It usually doesn't take that long…"
Quinn was about to say something back. But right as he tried, an unknown push erupted from deep within him that forced his back off whatever slippery surface he lay on…
And he sneezed.
Quinn instantly felt a knot loosen in his chest.
'God… that felt so good.'
But he saw a shadow move past him. His neck stiffened. As though reading his mind, the voice reassured him,
"Relax, boy. I'm not gonna eat you."
Quinn's neck moved faster than his lips.
He finally laid eyes on the source of the disturbing voice.
A strong-framed man, maybe mid-thirties, dressed in something weirdly modern for what Quinn assumed was the afterlife. Well-proportioned features. Sharp, blue eyes. The kind of face that didn't try hard to be comforting, but was anyway.
Quinn was going to respond. But this time as well, he got taken off guard.
His lips parted. Eyes moved from here to there for seconds… then back to the stranger sitting on the chair by his side.
"What in the world is going on…?"
How did he get into this room?!
The man didn't say anything. And just watched him, as though he were some goddamn movie. Quinn ignored him and looked all over the room again.
It got to a point when he decided that moving around to check was way better.
He rushed to a two-metre-tall wardrobe and opened it.
Quinn grumbled.
"An empty wardrobe? That's not nice enough."
Who uses an empty wardrobe to send someone off to heaven, actually? That was Quinn's question.
The man turned over to the arm of the chair to look at Quinn.
Still going through everything in the room, surprisingly. Now, the elder couldn't tell if this boy was acting dumb or actually was.
He asked Quinn in a soft tone,
"What are you doing?"
Quinn sighed, watching the monitor placed on the table with a look of disappointment. He later turned to the man.
He asked as he tapped his chin thoughtfully, almost as a joke,
"You think there's a way to get Alienware in this kind of place?" Maybe if he kept asking like a dumbass, he wouldn't run crazy.
The man smiled lightly. Quinn sat on the chair by the monitor, in the corner of the room. "I actually won't use a budget monitor like this one even if I were to live again. No way."
The man chuckled. He then crossed his fingers in a serious manner. And questioned Quinn,
"Where do you think you are, young man?"
Quinn shrugged.
"Heaven, of course."
Quinn didn't want to roll his eyes afterwards. Because… where else would he be at?
"I knew so well how I died. I mean."
That moment, Quinn's heart ached a little. Just a little.
"Oh boy. Shall we just skip the 'nice farewell' part and go ahead with the final judgement? Wait, you aren't God, right? Yeah, maybe the angel of death! Alright, alright. So, am I going to heaven or hell? Oh, boy, no way I'm going to…"
The man cut in,
"Do you really think you know what it is to be dead?"
His tone was authoritative, and it carried a hint Quinn couldn't ignore. How does it feel to die?
'What…?'
Quinn searched for the answer but couldn't find one.
The man continued with his questions,
"How did you feel when you burned? How many times did you cry? Whose name did you shout when in need of help? Why don't you ask yourself… if the fire even dared to touch you? Do you think you burned in that hall?"
Quinn's heart raced gently. And it hardened with every passing second.
But what if he just couldn't remember? That must be the reason!
Quinn immediately turned back to the man, Silas. How would he expect an unfortunate person to be able to replay their last moment clearly?
Of course, it was a memory too heavy to carry.
'Talking to me like I don't know what I am doing…'
Right at that moment, Quinn saw Silas leave his seat. His eyes followed him to where he stood by a standing mirror.
'What's his deal?'
Then, Silas turned the mirror at Quinn.
Immediately, the young man's eyes widened. His lips further parted from each other in surprise. And he slowly rose from the chair, eyes stuck on the mirror's reflection of himself.
Quinn couldn't believe what he was seeing.
He looked nothing like himself anymore.
Just like a stranger. A completely different person.
"What the fuck," Quinn mumbled, rubbing his now-smooth face.
The height difference between now and then was a matter of inches. He looked taller now. His shoulders particularly were a bit wider. But the chest beneath the V-neck shirt remained as flat as before.
Now standing a mere distance from the mirror, Quinn saw his eyes.
Red eyes.
What in the fantasy is this?!
'I am someone else.'
Near-sharp jawline. Symmetrical, lean face. And flawless skin.
These features were his dream, and now, it's a flipping reality?! This is scary, but kinda incredible.
Quinn turned to Silas, who looked at him with a sort of loosened expression. As if he had just drifted from being the frank old man to someone Quinn was familiar with.
Silas simply said,
"You don't have to understand everything right away. It comes naturally. And that is the safest way. Imagine being choked by information and running insane from it. Transformed fellas get honoured for dying on missions, not for dying from the concept of it."
Quinn swallowed. He had an unyielding seriousness in his eyes when he asked this,
"Is there a simple way you can tell me what is going on?"
Silas took a light breath in.
He must see Quinn as a stubborn brat by now. Well, not that Quinn himself denied he was one.
Silas replied,
"The fire didn't burn you. It reborn you into a new body."
Quinn pressed on, focused,
"What does that make me then?"
Silas crossed his arms.
"Depends on your choice."
"What are you?"
"A Spirit Hunter," Silas responded. "My job is to capture as many of those dark creatures as possible."
Then he began to walk towards the door.
"Come outside. The rest of the team can't wait to meet you." Just at the room's doorstep, Silas stopped and added, "At least one of them."
Quinn hiccuped.
Does that mean the others have ill feelings towards him?
'Having early enemies is bad, man.'