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Just outside of a hole in the wall town with nothing but a gas station and a stoplight. It'd take at least half an hour for an ambulance to get here. Perfect.

Dareios was going to do it. Finally, he'd worked up the courage to end it all. 26 years of wondering exactly what death would be like, and he was finally going to do it. It was the middle of the night, and rainy. The only sort of life in this sleepy hamlet was a bus that had stopped to refuel. There were a few people milling around and stretching their legs. He paid them no mind.

The car was a stolen '84 Camaro. It was his favorite color: matte black. That'd make it a little harder to spot after he did what he was planning. A foot down on the accelerator, and the Greek was beginning to fly through gears. First, second, third. As soon as he hit 100k/m, his hand came off the shifter and he unbuckled his safety belt. Then he saw what he was hoping for.

Yes! That's it!

It was a tree. A huge, ancient thing. One that would crush this old heap of **** car, and him with it. It was finally his chance to pierce the veil and glimpse the other side. He'd see if he was right, and there was nothing on the other side, or if his mother had been right all along and there was a heaven. If she was, he'd see her there. If not, well, it wouldn't matter anymore anyway.

There was a screech as he careened the car off the asphalt on purpose, slamming into that white oak head on. Metal on metal, a horrible sound, and his body flying halfway through the windshield. The only reason he wasn't thrown straight into the tree headfirst was the steering wheel stopping him. All he felt was pain. It wasn't going to be the quick death he had hoped for, but death was going to happen no matter what.

That brought a broken, bloodied smile to his lips.

He tried to open his mouth to reply, and tell them to leave him. This is what he'd wanted. But, his jaw was broken and vocal chords destroyed. Instead, he spit toward her, spraying blood from betwixt his lips. A shattered left arm twitched a few times, but his right was still well enough to grip a piece of the jagged, twisted metal and embed it into the wrist of his broken arm with a single quick, deep stab.

Another spurt of blood sprayed from that wound. He wanted this to happen before any emergency services could get there, and would do everything possible to make sure it did. The girl over him was pretty, and trying to be kind and calm. He wished she weren't there. This wasn't something he'd want her to witness, and he didn't even know her. He could tell that she was the type of person he could've used in his life, to help silence the demons in his mind when he was losing the fight by himself, however.

That wouldn't happen now, though. There was no way she, nor anyone else could help him. It was too late. He'd lost too much blood, and the light was starting to fade.

I feel cold.. It can't be much longer, now. You'll see, ma. I'll show you that death is the end, and nothing more. Just another minute or two, and I'll cease to exist, just like you did.

A couple of coughs followed that thought, with Dare spitting up more blood. The man was about to let his eyes slip closed when a sharp pain and pressure in his chest caused him to start gasping. A broken rib had pierced his lung and caused it to begin collapsing. Either suffocation or bleeding out was going to be his end. It didn't matter which, when all was said and done, though.

He blinked a few times at the girl. She had introduced herself, and apologized that she couldn't save him, and he wasn't able to understand why. He clearly did it on purpose. There were no skid marks on the road from the application of brakes. The impact was dead centered on the tree. He hadn't even made an attempt to wear the seatbelt. And last but not least, he had spit toward the girl trying to save him.

Why didn't she realize that he wanted this? Or did she think that she might be able to make him regret the decision to end his own life? She wouldn't make him regret it. And even if she did, it wouldn't last long anyway. He couldn't think with all the pain, couldn't breathe, and there was a burning sensation running up his arm, setting from the wound in his wrist.

So, this is what it's like. I'm ready for the darkness to take over.

He drew another ragged breath, before coughing up blood once again. The last image he would have was of the pretty girl, Jacey, kneeling over him. That was a thought he was okay with. Dareios let his eyes slip closed, trying to hold on to the way she looked. The image he attempted to to burn into his mind started to slip away as the fire in his arm seemed to spread. Another breath, and two harsh coughs and a gasp.

Then nothing. The pain subsided. His chest fell one last time, and his lips curled up in a soft, light smile. The second smile he'd had grace his lips in the last four years. The first had been just minutes before, but it would've felt like a lifetime ago if he could still feel. But, Dareios was gone now.

Or at least, that's what'd he thought. The truth was going to be so, so much worse.

At first, there was nothing. Just blackness. But then, a feeling, and a bit of light on the other side of his eyelids. There was no way he could have survived what he'd done to himself, and yet, he was lying almost peacefully on a... cold.. metal table?

No, no, no... I can't be... What the **** is this?!

Dare let his eyes flutter open, and he stared up at shitty florescent lighting, in a clean white room with refrigeration and some doors on the wall to his left. Only one type of place looked like this: Morgues. He knew them only from tv shows, movies, and the one he saw when they asked him to identify his mother's body after she had drown.

But, that must mean I... died. These were the first words he said aloud. Some people thought it strange that a man of Mediterranean descent had the slightest hint of a French accent, but that was because he was a fifth generation citizen of a still-French region of Canada. The accent LITERALLY came with the territory.

With no idea what to do, Dareios pushed himself up to sit, and took stock of his surroundings. Pale skin, bloodied clothes, but no remaining sign of wounds or other injuries. That was weird. But so was the fact that he seemed to be unable to breathe and it wasn't bothering him in the slightest.

He stood and looked toward a mirror that was across the room. He saw no reflection of himself, but there were a couple of dark, faint figures there. Translucent, and seeming to beckon him toward the glass. The man steered clear of that, not knowing what the hell it was. Then he noticed some clothes that must have been taken off one of the other corpses, and about his size.

Well, I can't just walk around in this stuff, or else someone'll call the cops. Not like the other guy needs them anyway. He said that to no one particular, since there was no one to say it to. Then he started to change, and heard a voice upstairs. It was someone telling their boss they were getting ready to close up for the night.

Dare saw a window a couple feet above him. He quickly opened it, then grabbed the ledge and lifted himself up and out of it. Another look around to give him a sense of where he was. Downtown in a bigger city, near a large concrete wall. He had no idea where exactly he was, but there was an internet cafe a few buildings down, with a neon sign lit up saying 'Open.' That's as good a place as any to start, I guess.

A minute later and he was pushing the door open, looking around to see if he could find someone to talk to and glean a bit of information. There was a young brunette guy with headphones covering his ears at one computer, and what seemed to be a blonde woman sitting at another. He couldn't see any headphones, so he made his way over and sat down next to her.

Turning a bit to start asking her questions, he stopped and his jaw just dropped. It was the girl from when he wrecked his car. There was a one in a trillion chance, but here she was, sitting in front of him.

Uhm... Hi.

I was hoping you could tell me that, actually. I woke up in the morgue, with not a wound in sight... I swore I had killed myself by driving that car into the tree.. And why the **** don't I have a reflection?!

The look on his face was one of panic, fear, and confusion. Though, staring into his eyes would reveal just a little bit more, as well. Rage, because he hadn't truly died. That was his only goal, and it had been stripped from his grasp somehow.

There were a couple more people coming in the door, so he quieted down a bit. It wouldn't do to be yelling in a crowded establishment about stuff that couldn't have happened. That would have the police showing up and taking him to an asylum before he would ever figure out what was going on with him.

Jacey, seriously, I don't know what's going on, and I'm scared... My name's Dareios, by the way. People call me Dare.

If it hadn't been such a weird thing, he wouldn't have even been talking to her. A girl as pretty as she is wouldn't have normally given him the time of day, and that was just fine with him most of the time. But now he needed her for answers, and she was probably going to have questions of her own.

Gods, she's pretty... I can't think about that right now. This is too weird for me to start thinking about how much I'd like to kiss her. C'mon Dare, stop thinking about stuff that isn't important! Not like she'd ever ******* return that feeling anyway, you idiot!

He turned to drop his head onto the table in front of him in exasperation, but not because of what was going on with his body. It was based on the thoughts he was starting to have about this little blonde girl that had been there when he died.