Dying sucks. We all know it. Almost no one wants to, but it's an inevitability for most people—unless, of course, they've developed a strange obsession with snakes.
I died in one of the worst ways possible. Genuinely.
Oh, you don't think so? Being set on fire? Drowning? Sure, those are bad. But tell me: would you rather either of those… or be bitten by a black mamba on the dick?
Yup. That's right. Straight on the mushroom.
I'd gone to Africa as part of *Doctors Without Borders (MSF)*. My colleagues and I had been sent to Somalia to help a settlement that had been hit by a cholera outbreak. People were already dying from dehydration.
We had just arrived at Wajaale when I ducked behind a bush to take a piss. Except I wasn't paying attention. What I thought was a safe spot turned out to be a black mamba's head.
The mamba took exception to that.
---
Now, here I stand, waiting in line, surrounded by white. White walls, white floor, white ceiling—if there is a ceiling. Other souls drifted past me, featureless or vaguely familiar, their expressions lost in some eternal haze. Time seemed to stretch indefinitely, each step forward as if moving through molasses.
I tried to focus on anything to distract myself: the faint hum in the air, the smell of nothingness, the way the light bounced off… well, everything. It wasn't cold or warm. It wasn't loud or silent. It was simply… there.
And then my thoughts wandered. Not to the snake, not even to the pain. But to a little girl back in New York, my patient. She had leukemia, and I had sat by her bed for hours, telling her stories when her parents couldn't be there. The way she smiled when I made her laugh—that's what I clung to in this strange, endless line.
At least I did something right.
"Next!"
The shout jolted me out of my reverie.
Ahead, a golden gate shimmered in the white expanse. Behind a massive desk sat the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Her hair and eyes shifted color constantly, catching the light like molten pearls. Her skin glowed with a sun-kissed warmth. And her smile… it radiated a calm so profound that it made my chest tighten in awe.
Is this an angel?
"I am not, but thank you, mortal," she said, her voice melodic and serene. "I am Illia, Guardian of the Eskel Gate, by order of my Lord Gallag."
Eskel? Gallag? Is that another word for God?
Illia's smile softened as if humoring a child. "Do not despair. Some truths are beyond mortal comprehension."
Great. Cryptic angel. Typical.
She extended her hand, palm up. A tug inside my chest—like something had been unfastened—pulled a golden orb toward her. It drifted into her palm and transformed into a scroll, unfurling with glowing letters.
Illia read aloud:
"Name: Dominic Razlove
Years lived: 33
Occupation: Pediatrician
Lives Improved: 8
Cause of Death: …"
She blinked. Her lips trembled. Then, suddenly—
"Pfffahahahaha!!!"
Her laughter exploded, echoing through the white void. Her face, once gentle, contorted into wild ridicule.
"You… you got bit on the—Hahaha!!"
She toppled from the desk, rolling on the floor. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
A portal ripped open behind her, and a man stepped through. Same shifting hair and eyes. Same disbelief. "Illia! What are you doing?"
Gasping for breath, she shoved the scroll at him. "Ikathar, you *have* to read this—!"
Ikathar scanned it, froze, then—
"Bwahahahaha!! What an absolute moron!"
He doubled over, pointing at me, laughing until the edges of his vision blurred.
Minutes later, they finally composed themselves, though giggles escaped every now and then.
Illia dabbed at her eyes. "A thousand apologies. It is rare for a mortal to die in this fashion. I wasn't prepared. You have my sympathies."
Still laughing softly, Ikathar muttered, "Best laugh I've had in 479 years. Not since that codpiece incident."
I decided not to ask.
I did have one question, though. How are you able to hear me? Im not talking, at least I dont think.
Illia nodded. "You are a soul, little one. Souls can not breath, much less speak. If you could see yourself, it would appear as a floating ball of light.
"Your soul is laid bare to us, Dominic," Illia said. Her tone returned to calm, though with a hint of amusement. "Every thought, every emotion. All visible."
So she knows everything…
Her smile widened just slightly. Yep. She knew.
Damn it.
"Do not fear," Ikathar said. "Though you were unable to help those in Somalia, you spent years preparing to help people. Your love of children, your desire to heal—they weigh heavily. Overall, you left a positive mark. Well done."
I exhaled, letting the tiniest surge of pride wash over me. At least I mattered somewhere.
Illia clapped her hands, joyous. "For these good deeds and Good Karma, you may choose: Heaven, or reincarnation."
Heaven… eternal peace… no more fear…
But then I remembered the little girl, and the children I had promised to protect.
Not yet. I can still do more.
Reincarnation, I thought firmly.
Illia beamed. Ikathar raised an eyebrow. A glowing orange ticket appeared in Illia's hand. She lifted it, then froze.
Ikathar leaned in, reading. His expression stiffened.
Both of them looked at me with… pity.
"…He has Good Karma," Illia whispered. "Maybe he made a mistake—"
"Silence," Ikathar snapped. "The Lord does not make mistakes. Follow me."
---
Through the golden gates, we walked into a misty corridor. Endless doors lined the walls. Ikathar stopped at one: *Reincarnation Room #416.*
Inside: a desk, a bulky monitor, and stacks of paperwork.
"Sit."
I obeyed.
Ikathar tapped the keys for several minutes. Finally:
"I've pinpointed where you'll appear. It's… not good."
Not good?
"I cannot say more. What I can do is help you survive the first five minutes."
First five minutes? Where am I going, a warzone?
"Yes, the first moments will be critical."
He paused. "What's your favorite color?"
I blinked. Uh… Aqua-Blue?
"Second favorite?"
…Emerald-Green. Is this necessary?
"Yes," he said.
Paper slid across the desk. The colors I chose now sat next to hair and eye color.
*Green eyes, fine… but blue hair? Am I about to be in an anime?*
"It's natural where you're going," Ikathar said. "Not abnormal. Common."
I scanned the rest:
Height: 3'5" (105cm)
Weight: 39.5lb (17.9kg)
Age: 5 years old
Hair color: Aqua-Blue
Eye color: Emerald-Green
Skin color: Fair
Gender: F
…
Wait. What?