Summary: It wasn't strange, I suppose, to be hit by a truck and sent to another world. Only, it's strange that this one seems oddly familiar, though my memories are ever fading. As a Nazgul. SI.
Authors note: So I've been tossing this idea around in my head for some time, but never got quite to it. I kinda wanted to do As an Orc/Uruk, but that'd probably end up beyond the scope of this site's ratings. Thus, Nazgul.
Prologue:
My life was fairly simple, in my own esteemed opinion, go to college, take the tests, write the papers. I'd judged my chance to die, outside of suicide, was roughly one in a million, per day, at my current rate. I diligently looked both sides at every crossing, which I only encountered ten times a week, and ate healthy foods, like mashed potatoes and pizza. Exemplary, if I do say so myself.
So, I'll say that it did come as a surprise to me when a truck came barreling down, and, quite embarrassingly, I froze.
But, let's rewind a little.
It was a nice calm noontime, late in the season and with a smattering of clouds livening up the sky. Exiting my car adroitly, I hastily grabbed my lunchpack and heaved my backpack, laden with coursework, out of it's position on the floor of the backseat.
Closing both car doors with a satisfactory thud, I made my way into the street. My lunchpack tilted as I minded my heavier backpack, held in my hand, and I stopped abruptly to right it before culinary disaster could ensue. In retrospect, stopping in the middle of the street was a bad decision, my final one. In life, at least.
And, while I can assure the reader that my decision making hadn't come to a close, my life had. Not reborn as flesh was I, not given a soul. But immortalized as a dark wraith, trapped between death and life, and unable to truly connect with either world. So it is with total confidence that I assert that my lifetime of decisions was over, ended with the cherry on top called carelessness, and my the means of the laws of physics. How I hated the conservation of momentum as my body was pulverized.
But, enough of that.
XXXX
Slowly I woke, my vision feeling awfully motion-blurred. I should probably take it easy. If I survived that bus, I was most likely in bad shape. Strangely, though, I felt no hurt.
The pain relievers sure are impressive these days, let's hope I don't get addicted.
My surroundings, as I looked around slowly, my vision still painfully jarring in quality, seemed entirely unlike a hospital. No, rather, isn't this the morgue?!
Panicked, I confirmed that on five sides I was contained within a coffin, or at least a very nice box, while a nice arched ceiling ruled the other dimension.
Was it one of those situations where the regenerating protagonist had been deemed dead and sent to the morgue, only to wake up?
It seemed the likeliest for now. So, let's assume I'm officially dead. Ok. No problem. Good-bye mom, sayonara, sis. Cool. Just what I've been waiting for. What could be better than to be declared legally dead? Nope. I've got nothing. I guess it really is the best thing ever.
Still, if the government finds out I'm a revival man, they could seriously lock me up and kill me over and over to confirm it while trying to take my seed to see if my kids would be the same way while trying to clone me so they could take those clones to be elite assassins while killing my entire family to find out if they're the same so that they could make even more money so…
Ok. Don't get caught. Good. I'm calm, I'm definitively, defiantly, definitely, absolutely, aggressively calm.
Let the hate flow through you and make you stronger…
Thanks, Sidious, I hate this situation. So, time to power up.
I flung my hand out, but, as expected, nothing happened. Worthless revival power, what good are you? Killing myself again wouldn't even work because I couldn't mimic the injuries perfectly.
Besides, who'd want to wake up in a lidded, buried, coffin? I'd heard stories about how much that sucked, true stories. Thanks, TV.
Time to get out of here for good, become a super-secret assassin that everybody thinks is already dead or something, just gotta go.
I glanced to my hand, still thrust out from earlier. Strange that my muscles weren't tired.
I frowned, stranger still that it looked nothing like my hand at all.
Or, for that matter, like anybody's hand. It was extremely pale, and seemed to oscillate, though that could be my eyes playing tricks. The fingers were long and unreasonably thin, as if I'd wasted away and every last scrap of flesh had been converted to energy.
Or whoever this was supposed to be. My hands looked nothing like this.
Whatever, confirming my vision can wait, for now, let's leave.
Heaving myself out of the coffin with surprising ease, I made my way out of the room cautiously.
X-X-X-X-X
Authors note: So, here's the admittedly short prologue, let me know your thoughts. Feel free to correct grammar and spelling in your reviews, but don't make that their sole purpose.
Anyway, this idea has been floating around in my head for a while, but I've never really gotten around to it till now. The time-frame will be revealed shortly.