Pending Death

John's scream ripped the air apart. The sound was raw—more animal than human. Tears streamed down his face, hot and unrelenting, as he clutched my lifeless hand. His fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white, his jaw grinding with a rage born from despair.

Beside him, Jovany broke too. He let out a cry that was no less devastating, a howl of anguish that echoed off the sterile, cold walls. It was the sound of a man unravelling—his composure shattered like glass.

This… was the end.

The room felt colder. Quieter. The only movement came from the doctor, whose shoulders slumped in defeat as he pulled off his gloves. He didn't say a word. He didn't need to. His silence spoke louder than anything.

And yet…

This wasn't over.

The silence was merely the calm before the storm.

Somewhere in the suffocating blackness, a voice reached me.

A voice that didn't belong to God.

Nor to an angel.

It was something far older. Far colder.

"Hello, Myck."

The words were smooth, dripping with amusement.

"Who… who are you?"

"What a question… I'm Death, of course. Who else would come for you in this abyss?"

"Why? Why deliver me? I don't need saving."

"Oh, but you do, Myck. You've been drowning for years. This world suffocates you. Death isn't a punishment—it's release."

"Even if I wanted to… I couldn't. The problem isn't the world. It's me. Wherever I go, I'll always be a burden… to myself. To everyone."

"That's all the more reason to let go. Stop fighting. Let me take the pain away."

"No… Not yet. I can't leave. I'm not ready. I haven't finished what I started."

Silence.

And then…

A sudden jolt of agony ripped through my chest.

My heart slammed once. Twice. Weak, but alive.

A gasp tore from my throat as I bolted upright, drenched in sweat. My lungs burned. My hands clawed at the sheets.

Was it a dream? A hallucination? Or had I truly met Death face to face?

I didn't know. Maybe I didn't want to.

But deep inside, I felt it—the echo of that voice.

Smooth. Icy. Infinite.

"We'll meet again, Myck. Sooner than you think."

Minutes passed before I fully realized where I was.

A dim hospital room.

To my left: John. His face, wet with tears, twisted in disbelief.

To my right: Jovany. The brother of my soul. A mirror of my despair.

Both staring at me as if I'd just crawled out of the grave.

John: "We thought we'd lost you for good this time…"

His voice cracked, heavy with relief and raw pain.

I didn't answer. I couldn't. My chest still ached, my body trembling.

Maybe I didn't understand yet how much their words meant.

Maybe I didn't deserve them.

I know—I sound like a terrible narrator. Detached. Cynical.

But it's hard to be funny when you've already seen the end.

And trust me…

This isn't a happy story.

This is the kind of ending that comes soaked in blood and regret.

But you'll understand later.

For now… welcome to the hell of 2050.

The Third World War.

A world where Death isn't feared anymore. It's a luxury.

And I?

I'm just a man trying to survive.

Let me tell you how I got here.

To be continued: A Pawn on the Chessboard...😉