"Where am I?" he asked himself in the darkness. He was lying down, constricted by something metallic pressing against his sides.
He felt cold , too cold for his liking.
"Wasn't it supposed to be hot?" he muttered weakly. Hell was supposed to be hot as fuck... after all, killing oneself only leads to eternal hellfire.
His hands trembled as he wrapped them around his body, hugging himself tightly.
"Is someone there?" he called out, shivering in the freezing air. His body felt stiff, almost frozen, as he continued shouting into the cramped space.
He had to get out of here. Maybe he was already dead. Maybe this was the passage before he reached Hell?
He sighed, then began banging on the metal walls beside him desperately, hoping for a chance to escape.
Somewhere in the morgue, an old man froze mid-step as he heard muffled screams and loud banging coming from one of the storage fridges. His heart almost leapt out of his chest.
"What... what's happening?" he whispered in horror.
Was it some kind of ghost? He had been working here for only a few weeks, but this was the first time he'd ever experienced something like this. Sure, he'd heard strange noises before , whispers, creaks ,but never this.
With shaking hands, he reached for the small handgun he always kept on him , for "safety reasons," he'd said when people asked ,and slowly walked toward the source of the noise.
Each step echoed in the cold, empty room. The banging grew louder. The screams, more desperate.
Finally, he stopped in front of one of the fridges. The sound was definitely coming from inside.
With a trembling breath, he gripped the handle and pulled it open.
A pale hand shot out instantly.
"AHHHHHH!" the old man screamed, stumbling backward as a half-naked young man sat up, gasping for air, his eyes wide and wild.
"Help! Get me out of here!" Kael yelled, his voice hoarse.
The man hesitated, still clutching his gun, but seeing Kael shivering violently, he rushed forward to help pull him out. Kael collapsed onto the cold floor, breathing heavily.
"Wh-What the hell..." the old man muttered, eyes wide. "You're... alive?"
Kael didn't answer. He was too busy hugging himself, teeth chattering uncontrollably.
The man hurried to a nearby rack, grabbing an old coat and draping it over Kael's shoulders. "Here... put this on. Damn kid, you're freezing."
Kael muttered a faint "Thank you," still dazed.
The old man stepped back cautiously, eyeing him like he might drop dead again at any moment. "I've... I've not worked here for long but I've never seen anyone wake up from the dead before," he said, shaking his head. "You should go to the hospital. Right now. Whatever brought you back... it ain't normal."
Kael looked up at him with wide, confused eyes, his voice barely above a whisper. "Hospital...? I... I was dead."
The old man swallowed hard. "Yeah," he said quietly, "you were."
...
The old man had been such a great help to him. He had given Kael some old clothes he had lying around and had insisted that he go to the hospital for a check-up.
Kael could only smile and thank the man for his kindness.
"I'll be leaving then," Kael said, smiling at the old man as he scratched his head.
The man nodded. "Take care, kid," he said, still feeling a little jittery from what he had just witnessed.
He was just going to let the boy go for now, but deep down, he knew he couldn't stay quiet about this. He couldn't just let a dead body,one that had supposedly risen after three days,walk out of the morgue without telling anyone.
As soon as Kael stepped out of the building, the old man picked up the phone with trembling fingers and dialed.
"Hello? This is the city morgue," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "I need to make a report. One of the bodies that was declared dead three days ago... he,he woke up."
There was silence on the other end for a moment. Then a confused voice replied, "Sir, could you repeat that?"
"I said, one of the dead men came back to life!" the old man insisted, his voice shaking. "His name is Kael.. Kael Ryden. He was brought in three days ago after falling from an apartment building. But he's alive—he just walked out of here a few minutes ago!"
Another pause. The tone on the other end grew more serious. "Stay where you are, sir. We'll send someone to verify this immediately."
The old man swallowed hard, glancing nervously at the door Kael had just walked through. "Yeah," he muttered, "you better hurry."
Kael had just stepped out of the mortuary. The coldness that had clung to his body was finally gone, and strangely enough, he felt… fine. Better, even.
For someone who had fallen from such a height, he didn't feel a single ache or scratch. When he'd asked the old man when his body was brought in, he learned it had been three days ago , and that he had been pronounced dead at the hospital the night before being transferred to the morgue.
The thought sent a chill down his spine. Three days. He had never heard of such a thing before. Maybe he needed to do some research later, see if there were any cases like his.
He stood there on the sidewalk, lost in thought, debating what to do next. Go home and rest? Or go to the hospital to check if everything was really okay? Though, truthfully, he didn't feel weak at all. If anything, he felt stronger , like there was some strange energy pulsing through his veins, humming quietly beneath his skin.
Maybe it's just from... coming back, he thought, unsure whether to laugh or panic at the idea.
After a few moments of hesitation, he decided to take the old man's advice. He'd go to the hospital.
A few hours later, Kael sat on the edge of the hospital bed as a doctor flipped through the results of his tests.
"Everything looks perfectly fine," the doctor said, sounding slightly surprised. "No internal bleeding, no fractures, no signs of trauma... frankly, you're as healthy as they come."
Kael forced a smile. "That's... good to hear."
The doctor gave him a puzzled look. "You said you fell, right? From a building?"
Kael froze for a second before nodding awkwardly. "Y-Yeah... just a few feet, though. Guess I got lucky."
The doctor chuckled lightly. "Lucky indeed. Still, I'd recommend getting some rest for a few days, just to be safe. Stress can do strange things to the body."
"Yeah," Kael murmured, standing up and collecting his things. "Thanks, doctor."
As he walked out of the hospital, the fluorescent lights flickered slightly overhead. He rubbed his temples, trying to ignore the faint ringing in his ears — or the odd, low hum that seemed to follow him wherever he went.
The air outside felt heavier than before, as if something unseen was watching him.
"Lucky? Is that what they call it now?"
Kael froze mid-step, his eyes darting around.
"...Who said that?"
He looked around, but there was no one there.
"Great… now I'm hearing things too," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as he walked out of the hospital. The sky was already dark, and the air was cold.
The hospital wasn't far from his place, but walking would still take about twenty minutes. He had no money on him—not even a few coins—so taking a taxi was out of the question.
"Guess I'll walk then," he said to himself and started down the street.
The city was still awake. Cars drove past every now and then, and a few people walked by, talking or laughing. He even saw some girls dressed up, probably heading to a club. He didn't care, though. He just wanted to go home.
After walking for a while, his legs started to ache, but the sight of his apartment building made him sigh in relief. He climbed up the stairs, still shivering from the cold. When he reached his door, he remembered he didn't have his keys—the ones he had were still in his old clothes from before he died.
"Damn it…" he whispered, scratching his head.
He looked around and smiled when he noticed the small flowerpot beside his door. He had always kept a spare key under it, just in case. Lifting it up, he found the dusty key still there.
"At least something's going right," he said, sliding it into the lock.
The door creaked open, and his smile faded.
His apartment was a mess. Drawers open, clothes thrown everywhere, papers scattered all over the floor. It looked like someone had broken in.
"What the hell happened here…" he mumbled, stepping inside carefully.
He checked around but nothing seemed missing,his old laptop was still there, and his small TV too. Whoever broke in wasn't here for money.
He rubbed his tired face and sighed. "Probably some junkie… or maybe kids."
He didn't have the energy to care anymore. He just wanted to rest.
He closed the door, locked it, and collapsed onto the bed without even changing. The borrowed clothes still smelled faintly of disinfectant from the morgue.
As his eyes slowly shut, he muttered, "What a damn day…"
Within moments, he was asleep.
He was drawn into some kind of darkness.
It was deep and endless, swallowing everything — sound, warmth, even his thoughts.
Then suddenly, a bright light shone from above, cutting through the void. Kael squinted, shielding his eyes as the darkness melted away.
He found himself standing in a vast, empty hall. Black stone stretched beneath his feet, and giant torches burned along the walls, giving off a strange crimson glow. At the far end stood a massive throne — carved from what looked like bone.
And sitting on it was a man.
The man's eyes were gold, burning like molten metal, and two curved horns rose from his head. His presence alone felt heavy, like the air itself was bowing to him.
Kael stared for a long moment before finally muttering, "...Okay. Either I'm dead again or this is one hell of a nightmare."
The man let out a quiet sigh, resting his chin on his hand. "Took you long enough to show up."
Kael blinked. "Sorry, did I miss an appointment or something?"
The man's gaze sharpened. "You have no idea who you're speaking to, do you?"
Kael hesitated. "Uh… no. Should I?"
The man straightened, his voice echoing through the hall. "I am Zerath — Lord of the Infernal Flames, the Devourer of Souls, the—"
Kael raised a hand, tired. "Yeah, yeah. Big title. Scary name. Got it."
Zerath's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You dare interrupt me?"
Kael sighed. "Look, I just found out I died, woke up in a morgue, and now I'm here talking to some demon with a glow-stick complex. You'll have to forgive me if I'm not exactly in the mood for introductions."
For a moment, silence. Then, to his surprise, Zerath chuckled — low and sharp. "You've got some spirit. I'll give you that."
Kael frowned. "...What do you mean by that?"
Zerath rose from his throne, his steps echoing across the hall. "You think you came back to life on your own?"
Kael took a cautious step back. "What are you talking about?"
Zerath smirked. "You opened the door, mortal. And I walked in."
Kael's chest tightened. "Walked in? What does that even mean?"
The torches flared higher, their flames turning blood-red.
"It means your body… is mine now."