The Sixth King

Before I start the real journal, I should put this here: I recovered a single memory from my past life in the time span this journal covers. It’s my last.

I stepped forward, eager to see the targets and check if my accuracy had improved at all. My rifle was lying against the table, cleared of ammunition and facing skywards. It was safe. However, one of the others at the firing range hadn’t taken the same precaution. As I step forwards, I hear a shout, a clatter, and a shot. When I heard the shout, I dove to the left, figuring that it would be better to look silly than risk getting hurt, but it only put me in the path of the bullet. I knew I’d never have the chance to find out exactly what happened as I felt the bullet tear a path through my chest and rip out of the other side.  I watch bloody chunks of meat fly from my torso and somehow I see a glint of metal in the air. As I fall, my body spins and I land face-up, in very little pain considering I’ve just been shot. I look up, in shock, at the beautiful autumn leaves swaying in the breeze. I felt tremors as something runs towards me, shaking my sight slightly and making me frown that the beautiful view was being disturbed. Someone is screaming, but I can’t understand why. I see a few birds fly away and become annoyed that people would startle them. I feel something pull my torso into the air and there’s a voice extremely close to my ear. I wish it would just be quiet so I could be at peace.

Suddenly, the reality of my situation clicked, and I recognized the voice as my father, screaming for someone to call an ambulance. I knew that it wouldn’t come in time, because we’re at least fifteen minutes away from any civilization, and farther from any hospitals which could help. I’d be long dead by then. At least I’d had fun.

He gently picked up my upper half, letting me see the firing range and the three other people there, one of whom is staring in shock. I recognized her as my mother. She picked up a gun and one of the others tackled her for some reason. My dad turned me around so I could see the target. He said, “Well, at least you got the bulls-eye a bunch.” He glanced up at the target and his eyes widened. “Damn, there’s only one hole there! Nice shootin’!” He frowns. “Guess shootin’ ain’t that nice, actually.” I marveled at the fact that he’s so calm when his son is dying. My mind began to slip into shock again. As though answering my unspoken question, he spoke. “I can barely believe that this is happenin’. I always imagined that you woulda been the one talkin’ at my funeral, not the other way around. I didn’t wanna outlive my badass little boy.” Tears began to fall from his face as I slowly got very, very tired. Too tired to keep my eyes open. My dad begins to shake me, noticing that I’m slipping from this world. He slaps me in the face; it’s the first time he’s hit me in my life. I knew it must be serious, but I didn’t know what I’d done. “Dammit, boy, don’t you leave me now. Don’t you dare leave your papa now. C’mon, stay with me. You’re gonna be OK, you just gotta stay with me. The ambulance is coming any second now. You’ll see, you’re going. To. Be.Fine. You hear, boy?! Don’t you dare leave me!”

I saw the tears drip from his face I for the first time I noticed that there’s blood on it as well. Is it mine? I can’t tell. I could only slightly smile and I forced out the words, “Dad, calm down. It’s fine. I’m going somewhere better now.” I pause and my smile grows slightly. “Actually, knowing me, I’m probably going to burn for eternity, but close enough.”

He shakes his head frantically as his grip slips and my body hits the ground. I still feel no pain. “No, son, you’re going straight up to Heaven and Saint Peter and his pearly gates. I’ll meet you up there, ya hear? You wait for me up there, now.” He was openly weeping, resigned to the fact that he’d lose his only child.

“Alright, dad. I’ll do it. I’ll try.” I’m somewhat amazed that I could even still talk; my vision was fading extremely fast. I saw another form standing behind my dad, hands bony and clutching a scythe. His eyes are yellow dots in a deep blackness, one so deep that you’d be lost for eternity if you tried to search it. “Hey, dad, you might wanna move. I think the Grim Reaper is here for me. Don’t want you caught in the scythe’s swing.”

He did as I ask and stands up, still crying. I got a good view of the Reaper. He spoke and his voice echoes through my dying mind.

Boy, we need a new Judge. You’ve been chosen for your honor and humility. Will you accept?

I stare for a moment, suspended between life and death. I nod my head weakly. I see a raven fly up and land on the Reaper’s shoulder.

Then here I summon thee, boy, as a Judge, as Death, as the Sixth King, to another Realm. Reach for my hand and take my Staff, and you shall continue.

I hear another gunshot, and another scream, and the sound of someone dropping raw steak. I knew that something was wrong with that because who would have brought a raw steak out here? Some red stuff flies across my vision, but I can’t tell what it is, and I’m just so tired.

I do as the figure commands, reach up, touch the beautifully ornate blade, and for a brief moment I saw everything. I was ripped from my body and my soul and my time and my universe and given a new set of everything.

Then I woke up.