Monachopsis

Chapter 1

A/N: I do not Own Yu-Gi-Oh or any characters created by Kazuki Takahashi. I only own my OCs, this fic is purely for entertainment.

Chapter 1

So let's get one thing straight; dying isn't peaceful, and it isn't magical. It's cold, terrifying, and painful. There's no bright white light at the end of the tunnel, no choir of angels. Just yourself in cold, oppressive black.

Maybe for others it's different, but that was my experience. See I'd been walking home from the local library, trying to be environmentally friendly and all that by walking instead of driving the half mile. Nose buried in a book, I'd been walking home when I'd been mugged. But my attacker must have been strung out on something, or had just decided that today was the day that he went from simple robbery to murder. Because even after handing over the forty dollars I had in my wallet, he still stabbed me and left me for dead, propped against a dumpster.

So that was my glorious death. Propped against a filthy, smelly dumpster while slowly bleeding out. The bastard had taken my phone so I couldn't call for help, and my throat had been too sore to manage more than a whisper after he got done strangling me half to death.

Surprisingly, it takes longer than one would think to bleed to death. I'd estimate that it took me a little over an hour to finally die, which isn't that long but not slow either. Multiple stab wounds that didn't actually hit any major arteries or veins will do that. With no help in sight, it gave me time to think and reflect on my life. There hadn't been a lot in my life worth noting; I had been born to a military family, my father being sent out on deployment while my mother and I made due at home. It had been a comfortable life, and I loved my parents dearly. I had a few close friends and many acquaintances, but I'd barely turned twenty-four. There was so much of life that I hadn't experienced. I didn't really want to die, but I had always been a go with the flow type of person. Plus, reincarnation was something I believed in. So being murdered had to earn me brownie points in that respect, right?

I don't know how long I was floating in the cold dark; time doesn't really hold the same sway when you're dead I guess. I do know that when things began to change, I was actually happy and excited more than terrified. Anything to change up the black silence was worth it in my book. It was subtle at first, but gradually the biting coldness eased and warmed. At the same time, the blackness began to lighten, taking on a reddish pink glow. I could hear sounds, but it was horribly muffled and I couldn't really open my eyes. I don't know how much time passed, but eventually this new space I was in began to grow smaller and smaller, until I was snuggly nestled in it. I began to recognize two distinct sounds, almost like voices but still too muffled. But the tones and inflections I could pick up on. The two voices were comforting, reassuringly constant. Although I wasn't able to communicate with them, I wanted to thank them, to let them know that their voices were keeping me from going insane. After so long in that oppressive silence, listening to them speak, even though I couldn't understand them kept me from tipping over the edge. I didn't know that my chance would come sooner than expected.

See there's a reason why we as human beings don't remember our births; again, it's a terrifying, horrible experience. I've often heard people muse as to why babies come out kicking and screaming. Well, let me enlighten you with my take on it; one minute, I'm in a comfortable warmth, feeling safe and secure. Nothing could hurt me, nothing could touch me. I was never really hungry, could sleep whenever I wanted. Aside from the occasional bout of boredom it was pretty much perfect. Then, my comfortable warmth began to constrict and push. Although not exactly painful, it was uncomfortable. And then I was being moved, against my will. I struggled, not wanting to leave my snug haven. But as much as I struggled, I couldn't fight against the force that was forcibly evicting me. After more pushing and squeezing, the warmth and security forcibly pushed me out, and I was left in a colder, far too bright place, being handled by what felt like giant hands.