Somewhere Else

Chapter 8: Lucky

Darkness veiled his sight and his massive body ached for a split second before he felt numb all over. Through the shadows there was a bright light. Heaven. There was no way in this world or the next anyone was letting him into Heaven. The light had to be a trick or a fluke.

The numbness faded away from him and the next thing he felt were hands. He felt hands grasping at him all over. As much as he wanted to swat them away, he doubted he ought to. What if these were the angels coming to take him “home”? Did physical mortal weight truly affect an astral ascent? Gluttony was one of the seven deadly sins.

Angels didn’t explain why he suddenly felt his shirt being lifted, why he could still feel the cool night air against his flesh. Maybe he was being swathed in silks first, so he could be presentable to his Creator, if there was even such a thing. Maybe this was taking as long as it was because he had doubts about where he was going. The waist of his pants was pulled from his body but he wasn’t undressed. The baggy legs of his pants were shoved up to his knees. Finally he heard a soft voice ‘Aha’ and the touch of something sharp, something near digging into his flesh caused him to be able to open his eyes.

At once he felt a sharp throbbing in his pain. Oh God, what if the bullet hadn’t been enough to kill him? What if he was still alive and his brains were splattered all over the ground? He felt himself grow ill just thinking about it, swallowed back the bile that came to his mouth, and pushed the thought out of his mind. A migraine, fierce and worse than the one he’d had at school. Reaching to his head, tentatively, afraid, he searched for the entry wound of that bullet.

What he felt was surprising. There was no gaping hole in his forehead, but there was dried blood. He scratched it away and found there was no pain. Everything that ached was inside of his skull. Drawing his hand back, he ran his fingers over the short fuzz of his hair until he found a lump, drawn from the middle to his fingertips with a great amount of anguish. He remembered how he’d blown an eardrum trying to remove that tumor before and wondered if there was a better way.

Concentrating on getting the bullet out of his head, he was not entirely unaware of the fact that there was something still lingering over him. There were so many bones in the face he was afraid of breaking them all trying to get it out. If he could draw the bullet to his fingertips though, maybe he could push it back as well. Through the wet flesh of his throat he felt the bullet slip and he choked. He choked so hard he feared he might swallow it. Dragging his tips from the side of his neck up to his jaw, he could taste it on the back of his tongue. His other hand lifted and reached into his mouth, pulled the gold trinket out entirely. Letting his head drop to the ground he gasped for air, laid panting on the street.

“Lucky.”

A quick jab to the inside of his calf brought him to a sitting position. The tip of one of those claws had punctured his leg. At least he knew he was still alive and capable of feeling anything. He wasn’t sure it was really a blessing though. Since the other had his head tilted down, he noted his hair. He was that same guy from the theater.

“I wouldn’t call getting shot in the middle of an alley lucky.”

Looking up at him, he shone that flashlight he held in his hand in his face and then grinned. There was something vicious in that smile of his. The fangs didn’t help his image either. That must have been his light to Heaven too, the flashlight he held now. Shining it on his leg, he pointed to what he saw.

There, next to the puncture wound that drew a single bead of blood to the surface, he saw a yellow star. He reached down and rubbed his finger against it, wondering if it’d been drawn on. When he did, nothing smeared and nothing disappeared. Frowning, he licked his finger and tried again. This elicited a rather maniacal laugh from the other.

“No man, you’re Lucky. You’re one of the six.”

Fed up with the games that were being played with him, he shoved the lanky man away from him with all his might and stood up quickly. There was a rush to his head and he felt a dull throb for a second but then it passed. This guy was as much a freak as the next. The voices, the phone message, and now him. He really didn’t need this. He had enough to deal with. He had a girlfriend that didn’t care about the fact that he could have died earlier today, a mother who wanted to kill him, and a madman shooting him in hopes that his farfetched theory was right.

Starting off towards home, the alley filled with that laughter once more. It shook him to the bone, sent goosebumps down his arms. It was a laugh he hoped he wouldn’t have to hear ever again.

“There’s no point in running away, Lucky. Pretty soon you’re going to need me.”

He had no idea what that meant. He was hoping he never found out.