I Am Alive...

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I knew I died. I knew an injury like that would not allow my continued survival. And yet here I was, lying beside an official looking road. The road was in the middle of a field, with a few trees dotted about here and there. After I died, I gained a few memories... the destruction of many a civilisation being one of them... it was harrowing to say the least... seeing my parents and friends being exterminated by themselves...

I had also gained the memory of my hatred for not only humanity, but for elves, dwarves, fairies, demons, and the undead. I despised all of them now. I despised all of the races on all planets across all universes. I had also retained from that memory that memory that there were other universes. From that one memory, I also knew that I had been dead for 514 years. It was simultaneously surprising and unsurprising. It felt like a new piece of knowledge, but also a fact I had known for a while. It was odd.

I remembered a fox that grew to enormous sizes, that I had apparently loved as a companion and friend. It was weird feeling grief for something I didn't remember meeting while I was alive. So I had been in existence between when I was killed and now, but I remember possessing things to protect Foxy, which was this fox's name. That meant I was a ghost for a while. However, from the times I had with Foxy, I was definitely not a ghost. I was a black mass. Peculiar...

I stood up from the side of the road, looking around. I noticed I was still wearing my top hat, evening tailcoat, and all the other clothes I had hidden in a tree. There was no one else from horizon to horizon. The long dirt road was long and empty. There was a forest far behind me on my side of the road, and on the other was afield that stretched as far as the eye could see. There was no point in staying in one place, however, so I began to walk up the road, which was East, according to the sun. I knew the sun was pointing east because it was early morning, and the sun was visibly rising up the ceiling that is the sky.

I had not walked a kilometre before I heard the clip clopping of hooves on the ground, along with wooden wheels rattling slightly on the rough surface of the road. The carriage (for it was, indeed, a carriage) was coming up behind me. It was an impressive vehicle, lined with gold all over. It looked to have enough room to fit about a dozen people in it. It was being pulled by four horses, who were each tall and proud in their own right. It was, by all means, the image of aristocracy... I hated it... I detest aristocracy and royalty... they were all a bunch of entitled tw*ts...

Once the carriage caught up to me, it slowed down, the window opened, and an old man looked out of the window.

'Hello there, young man. What are you doing out here all by yourself?' He asked. Oh great... this one thought I was a child... I supposed I could use this to my advantage, but I didn't really want to.

'H-hello sir. I-I was j-just walking. I-I'm not quite s-sure wh-where I'm g-going.' I answered. I was stuttering again. I remembered not stuttering when talking with Foxy. I guess I can't have everything...

'Well, why don't we take you with us? Since you don't have any particular destination, why don't we take you with us?' He asked. I think he thought I was also an aristocrat. An understandable mistake, seeing how I was dressed poshly, and spoke in a posh British accent. Not that I did it on purpose. It was just how I spoke.

'Th-that's very k-kind of you, s-sir.' I smiled at him. I hated him, but why not get a free lift.

'Come on then!' He grinned warmly at me before opening the door and allowing me to enter.

I got in the carriage, making sure not to drop my stove pipe hat. I sat down opposite the old man who had invited me in. In the transportation, there was an old woman sitting beside the old man, resting her head on his shoulder, and a girl that looked to be around five years older than my age when I died, sitting on the same side of the vehicle as me, but at the opposite window to mine. She looked out of the window, looking very disapproving of who I supposed to be her father or grandfather letting me in. She glanced quickly at me every now and then, obviously not liking he company.

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