Ch. 1: Meeting Death and a New Chance (Rewritten)

Ch. 1: Meeting Death and a New Chance

Carlos felt his body floating in nothingness, experiencing a unique sense of peace and serenity he had never felt before. He wanted to open his eyes and see where he was, but he feared that the floating sensation would vanish, that it was all just a dream, a glimpse of paradise before being cast into hell.

Carlos was a Christian man, and like many Brazilians, he was raised under the dogmas of the Catholic Church. However, he did not delude himself into believing he was a good person. He had broken the Ten Commandments numerous times, the worst of which was the commandment not to kill.

He did not mourn for the souls of the people he killed. He was not a saint, but he did not forget that they were people like him, with families or people waiting for their return. Carlos always wondered if he would go to hell for killing those people, even if he did not genuinely care about the answer.

Carlos continued floating, enjoying the sensation of lightness throughout his body until he finally decided it was time to accept his fate.

He slowly opened his eyes, leaving behind the sensation of floating. Instead of finding himself in a hot place—whatever he imagined hell to be—Carlos found himself in a cozy spot, with his head resting on the lap of an unknown beautiful woman.

His vision was still a bit blurry and his mind foggy, but he could tell that the woman was undoubtedly one of the most beautiful he had ever seen in his life.

Her deep eyes looked at Carlos with a gentle smile, and her calm expression was quite comforting. He felt the woman's fingers brushing his hair softly, reminding him of his late grandmother, who passed away when he was still young. She was a kind woman who loved her family.

"Where am I?" Carlos asked, his voice calm, as if he had not just been murdered.

He did not question why he was calm. It was because of this strange woman, or it was because he genuinely did not mind being dead. Carlos was not someone attached to life. To him, dying was natural and there was no point in fearing it.

Of course, this did not mean he was suicidal or that he would not fight to live in a life-or-death situation. It was more complicated than that, something difficult to explain in words. He just felt that he should not fear death. He saw it for what it was, something common and natural that no being could escape, necessary for the perfect natural cycle of things, so fearing it was unnecessary.

Hearing Carlos' question, the woman paused briefly before responding, "You are in a border. A place between the world of the living and the dead, where souls stay before being taken to their destination."

Her voice was calm and comforting, easing any potential fear or other feelings that might arise in Carlos.

"Hmm, so you're a reaper? Guided my soul like those that appear in Supernatural?" he asked, still with his head resting on the woman's lap.

"Something like that," she replied, resuming her gentle stroking of his head, causing him to close his eyes once more.

"So, what's my fate? Heaven, hell, purgatory maybe?" Carlos asked.

"None of them," she responded, causing Carlos to open his eyes and stare into her beautiful dark eyes for a moment before sitting up to face her.

For the first time, he got a good look at the woman in front of him. She wore simple and casual clothes—a black T-shirt, dark jeans, and black boots. Around her neck, she also wore a necklace with a strange cross that looked like an Egyptian symbol or something similar.

Her short black hair was slightly tousled, giving an impression of a carefree and approachable person, without detracting from her beauty.

Her pale, flawless skin contrasted perfectly with her common black clothes, but without a doubt, what stood out the most were her beautiful dark eyes. They were very deep, conveying a certain tenderness when looking at Carlos, but they also seemed accusatory.

Carlos flinched slightly upon seeing those eyes, which made the woman smile softly at him. They both remained silent for a moment before Carlos spoke again.

"What do you mean I won't go to heaven or anywhere else?"

"Your soul has been 'claimed,'" she said calmly.

"Claimed?"

"It means that a... 'being' from a higher reality than yours has removed your soul from my reach."

Carlos felt confused and scared. Here he was, in front of the being responsible for guiding his soul to heaven or hell, or wherever he was supposed to go, but unfortunately, he couldn't because someone had claimed it?

"Is that really possible?" Carlos asked, and the woman nodded slightly.

"What happens now?" he asked.

"I don't know," the reaper shook her head before continuing, "But it shouldn't take much longer for you to be taken."

Carlos remained silent, absorbed in thoughts about who would want his soul and why. He was just a normal man. Had he lived an exciting life compared to normal people? Undoubtedly, but there was nothing that distinguished him much from others like him.

Suddenly, he felt a strong pull and saw a strange black vortex beginning to form behind him, with some black tendrils advancing toward him.

"What is that?" Carlos tried to dodge but was easily grabbed.

"It seems it's here to take you," the woman said, watching everything calmly, although Carlos sensed a certain distaste in her tone as she looked at the vortex.

"Damn. I do not want this. I am dead, let me move on, damn it," Carlos tried to struggle, but it was in vain. He looked one last time at the woman, but in the end, he could not say anything before being swallowed, and then the vortex disappeared.

The woman watched everything in silence. Though she remained impassive, her eyes shone with a certain distaste before she turned in a specific direction.

"Another soul was taken to satisfy your desires for entertainment, and this is starting to irritate me. So, you better make your short lives worthwhile because I promise I will come after each one of you when the time comes," after saying this, the woman disappeared from the strange space, not caring that thousand trembled at her words.

<><><><><> 

In a small room, a boy around 13 years old slept peacefully when suddenly the door was rudely opened, waking him up.

"CARLOS, I TOLD YOU TO GET UP. IT'S ALREADY 6 AM. DON'T MAKE ME COME BACK HERE."

Sitting up in bed with his hand on his chest, the boy looked at the door where a woman in her forties wearing a nightgown and curlers turned to leave after waking him up with all the love in the world.

'What? My personal hell is having my mom wake me up for school?'

Carlos took a deep breath before touching his chest for a moment.

'A dream? No. I really died... but why would I wake up here?' Carlos looked around and recognized the place as his old room from when he lived with his mother in his old house.

It was a small room, about three square meters. There was not much in the place besides a small bed, an old wardrobe, and a mirror in the corner. Getting up, he went to the mirror and saw himself younger, much younger. In the mirror was the reflection of a tall, skinny boy, about 4'5", with short black hair cut in a military style, light brown skin, and deep dark eyes.

Though confused, Carlos still got up and went to take a shower as his mother had ordered. Whether this was a dream or not, he preferred to die again than be punished by Mrs. Eliane.

Feeling the cold water from the shower fall on him, Carlos was once again convinced that this really was not a dream. However, it still did not make sense for him to be alive, much less to have been thrown back into his child's body.

In the small kitchen, his mother hummed softly to the tune of "Evidências" by Chitãozinho and Xororó, which was playing on the "Manhã Sertaneja" (Morning in the Countryside) program. Eliane was a beautiful woman, even though she was over forty. She had straight, light brown hair, light brown skin, and beautiful green eyes. She was about 172 cm tall and had a lovely smile.

[Chitãozinho e Xororó - Evidências (Lyrics + English Translation): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A4OTaR9Bky4]

Eliane had been living alone with Carlos ever since his... sperm donor went out to buy cigarettes. She fought hard to raise Carlos on her own and believed she had done an excellent job. He was a smart boy, and she was sure he would become a skilled professional in the future.

Shortly after finishing preparing breakfast, she saw Carlos sit at the table already dressed in his school uniform, which surprised her a bit since her son usually took a long time to get up, no matter how much she called him. Even after going to the bathroom, he usually lingered a bit under the shower. Well, she did not mind too much, and after serving him breakfast, she went to take her own shower.

Carlos started eating immediately while looking around the old house he only had memories of. It was a small house with two tiny 3-square-meter bedrooms—his and his mother's—a bathroom, a small TV room, and a kitchen combined with the dining room. The backyard was also just a small space with a washing machine and a place to hang clothes.

Carlos glanced at a calendar of Our Lady and saw the date: February 12, 1990.

"1990, that means I must be 13 years old now," Carlos said as he looked again at his frail, skinny body, which made him feel angry because he had lost his "Chad" body that he had cultivated for over 30 years. "Damn, I'll have to start all over again."

"Sigh Damn," Carlos complained as he continued eating his couscous with coffee and milk.

After finishing breakfast, Carlos went to brush his teeth while his mother ate her own breakfast. In the bathroom, Carlos was still wondering why he was here when suddenly a small screen appeared in front of him.

[INITIALIZING SYSTEM - 12%, 37%, 74%, 99%, COMPLETE]

"What the hell- "

[SYSTEM INITIALIZED – WELCOME, HOST]