Furtive | Tronnor

n i n e t e e n

An ancient prophecy proclaims that when you die, your whole life flashes before your eyes within seven minutes. The good, the bad and the downright ugly parts are revisited, and it is unclear whether you are actually aware that you are not alive during this period of time. For all you know, the life you are leading now could actually be those seven minutes. You could be dead and completely oblivious to that very fact, because in those seven minutes everything feels exactly the same as it would be in reality. In some cases, it feels even more real.

It is also said in other cases that when you die, a bright light pulls you out of the dark. The world becomes white in colour, blinding you from the idea of death or earth and takes you to heaven instead. If you resist the white light, there's a chance that you can live on, but most mortals are tempted by the idea of clarity, of a new existence, of forgetting their past life. Even if it hurts the people who they care about, and who care about them most, they ultimately act upon their own selfish agenda. They live a new life in heaven, and forget about the people they knew, the ones they loved. In some ways, this life is seen as a new chapter.

The funny (and slightly concerning) thing was, Troye wasn't experiencing either of these scenarios.

The world was completely dark, and everything sounded muffled within his surroundings. A small part of him wondered whether he had somehow found a new way into the after life, possibly even into hell. Maybe he was finally getting what he deserved, although he couldn't help but think that sending him to hell for telling one lie was a tad ridiculous.

But maybe hell wasn't the fairest kind of place. Maybe it was just a case of suffering for the sake of it. Maybe he had done so much more that he wasn't even aware of.

Despite all of his thoughts and fears, he tried to open his eyes in order to resolve his confusion. Surprisingly, Troye found that he was able to see. He was still sat on his seat in The Lovers Club, and the sight in front of him was more than a bit of a confusing one.

Alfie, who previously had a gun cocked against Troye's head with the promise to end his life, was now leaning over the desk and groaning in utter agony about the pain he was in.

Troye sucked in his breath, taking a moment to pinch himself. When he felt the painful squeezing of his skin between his fingers, it occurred to him that he was actually very much alive. He could feel the sensations of the skin, saw the way it reddened after he moved his hand away. Everything was still hazy but he was breathing, he was stable, he was existing within the moment.

So, he really hadn't died?

The realisation had Troye feeling more confused than ever, and all he wanted was some answers. Everything in his body was aching, despite the fact that he hadn't been physically harmed, but the situation itself seemed to have taken it's toll upon him.

"You b-bastard Joey." Were the first words Troye heard from the man on the table. He realised upon inspection that blood had stained Alfie's designer suit and was rapidly escaping his body, with the boss evidently becoming weaker and weaker as time went on.

"Someone had to do it Alfie." Joey had appeared next to Troye, a gun which Troye had no idea the doorman owned still pointing in Alfie's direction. "I've seen you hurt too many people for the sake of money and it needs to end. You used to be a good man, but now? You deserve everything that's coming to you. In fact, I'm glad it was me who got to shoot you."

Alfie tried to speak again but his body fell flat, his breathing slowing as Troye glanced towards Joey with fear evident in his expression.

"You...you killed him." He whispered, watching Alfie's limp body amongst the clutterings of his office table.