"I was their dog; they treated me like trash that they could throw away," muttered Darius, his last breath escaping him. "I don't understand. Haven't I always done what they wanted?"
As Darius spoke, he could see blood oozing from the wound on his chest. He knew he would die soon.
The wound had been inflicted by one of his closest friends—a deadly stab made without flinching, as if Darius were nothing more than an object to be discarded now that he was of no use.
He just couldn't comprehend what he had done wrong or why he had to be killed.
"Darius, you know we always appreciated you. You were the best in your line of work, after all," said one of Darius's presumed friends, watching him bleed out.
"Then why... WHY?" Darius shouted, summoning the last of his strength.
"You know why. We simply have no more use for you," his friend replied, giggling slightly.
"You know, Darius, we're sorry you had to suffer so much under us. Killing all our competitors must have been hard," he continued. "But, it had to be done."
Furious, Darius lay on the ground, knowing those words were true. He was their assassin, the one who did all the dirty work. Every time they asked him to eliminate a competitor, he did so without hesitation because the people in front of him were his friends—the only ones who had cared for him.
At least, they were his friends… they no longer were from now on.
As he tried to speak, he managed to muster some words, feeling his mind starting to fade.
"I-I promise that no one will ever dictate what I do with my life. Never. Never again," he said in such a low tone that no one around him could hear. "I'll be free… free of my own destiny."
Then, his body lost all consciousness and strength, and Darius was dead.
His soul began to levitate out of his body, rising above it.
Now in some sort of astral form, he could see and think while being outside his body.
'What's happening? Aren't I supposed to be dead?' he thought, seeing his lifeless body on the ground with his presumed friends laughing around it, indifferent to his death.
"Look at him; he actually thought we cared about him. How stupid of him. He really was one of the best assassins we ever had," said the same friend who had stabbed him.
"Those fucking bastards. If only I had my body back, you would all be dead by now," Darius seethed, furious as he looked at how his friends mocked him even after death.
If only he had known they would betray him, he would have killed them instead; he had the skills to do it. If he only he hadn't been caught by surprise, it wouldn't have taken a minute for the three of them to die.
Trained in martial arts, he knew exactly how to assassinate someone, and there was no doubt in his mind that he could kill them all without a second thought, especially after what they had done.
As he contemplated revenge, he suddenly shot upward, away from his body, getting further from the scene.
Where was he going? Hell? Paradise?
He had to admit he had done some questionable things in his life, but he hoped he could at least reach Paradise—if it existed.
As he continued to ascend, he saw the round shape of the planet he had lived on. He could see Earth in its entirety.
"Darius, Darius Carter."
'What is this voice?' Darius thought, hearing his name called in his mind.
It was a strange sensation. The voice calling out to him was mystical and mysterious, almost sending shivers down his spine.
"Come," the voice urged.
In an instant, his astral body, which had been moving upward, changed direction and accelerated.
'Whoa, what's happening?' Darius thought, bewildered by the sudden shift in speed and trajectory.
So many strange things were happening to him; he figured this must be part of dying.
The voice, the astral body—he thought all of this was normal, a sign of the afterlife.
Moving swiftly, he passed by stars and planets, realizing how small he was in this vast universe.
'Wait, what's that?' he thought as he spotted a white room not far away, shining brightly in the dark void, instantly capturing his attention.
Its shape was also striking—a white rectangular form, completely different from the round planets he had just seen. A rectangle the size of a small apartment in New York City in the middle of nowhere, far away from any planet or life.
'Whoa, slow down, slow down,' he thought, feeling himself accelerate toward the white rectangle. 'A-Am I going to die?! What about Hell! I'll go to Hell if I have to, just don't kill me!'
Suddenly, he arrived in front of it and came to a complete stop. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't move.
"You can enter," the mystic voice resonated in his mind.
A small opening appeared in the massive white rectangle, and Darius's soul entered.
"Wow."
That was all he could say when he saw the person standing before him.
"Darius, come sit," said the white-haired figure.
She conjured two chairs and a table out of thin air.
'Huh, what's happening? How did she do that?' thought Darius.
"It's simple; I just created them," the beautiful white-haired woman replied.
'Wait, she can read my mind?'
"Yes, of course, I can, Darius. I was the one who spoke to you on your way here. I also decided that you shouldn't be sent to Hell."
'So, I was going to Hell, huh?' Darius thought, recognizing that he had lived a life he wasn't proud of.
However, the white-haired woman noticed his expression and shook her head.
"Nevertheless, I disagreed with the choice the universe made, so I brought you here," she said nonchalantly, as if it were an everyday occurrence.