Tom Warwick +1 416-877-7496 tom.crimsonskymedia@gmail.com

EMBRACE

Written By

Tom Warwick

[Author’s Last Name] / [1-2 Words from Title] / 2

Chapter 1

Death

I miss home. Dublin, the emerald city as the tourists would say. The city with good, honest

hardworking a people you’ve ever met. Not like here, and well, isn’t this place grand. The

incessant noise, the vulgar decor and overpriced food. All of it fueled by the lemonade money

driven patrons. This is far from what I’m use to. I’m more a ‘corner of a dark pub’ kind of guy,

definitely not a gastro-pub and fruity beer sort, like most people in this preppy honey trap.

Cheapest beer in London mind.

I reach for my drink like a baby for a bottle. Nudging it a few times before I have it in my hand.

The barman notices. “Think you’ve had enough, Murphy” says the barman. Murphy is my last

name, Caleb being my first. He’s right, so I don’t bother to argue. Don’t bother to leave my drink

behind either. I slip off my barstool, pint in hand and loll across to the exit. People notice my

drunken shuffle, but tonight I don’t give a flying fuck. I move past a group of attractive girls,

who for some reason are looking my way. Can’t tell if it’s out of flirtatious curiosity or genuine

worry. I go with the former and extend my hand in a shooting gun motion, managing to spill

some beer as I do so, what a waste.

“Ladies,” I fire in their direction. Safe to say my advances fall flat as they laugh me away. Pff

women, better off without them anyway. I push the door open and it swings out into the cold the

London night. Cold’s different down south. Not like it is back home. Home is Dublin by the way

and well it’s not really that different, but the cold in Dublin is that... it’s in Dublin.

[Author’s Last Name] / [1-2 Words from Title] / 3

I slump against the outside of the yuppie den. Somehow I’ve still got my beer in my hand, albeit

the contents depleted from my clumsy shuffling. That’s when I hear the bouncer.

“Oi, you can’t take that out here,” he bellows. I move off the building quick as I can.

“Don’t worry I’ll bring it back” I say as I turn back to the bouncer. A thumb of a man, he’s short

and squat with no neck. His lack of hair only confirms to me that he is a human thumb. He

moves towards me, an arm outreached. He wants to catch me, but I’m still walking backward. I

keep going, taunting him as I do, except the look on his face isn’t one of bloodthirsty bouncer

desire. I keep moving back as I realize he’s trying to warn me, as are the line of punters waiting

to get into that shite box of a bar. Place looks even worse on the outside. Crueler still it’s the last

thing I really see when I’m hit by the car.

I smash into the car with an sickening thud, I hear the unmistakable splintering of bone as I’m

jettisoned from the car’s surface and then everything goes black and I feel nothing for a

moment... shortly followed by the clawing of tarmac trying to etch its way into my face as I skid

across the road. Like a school rubber my body is eroded away by the road’s surface and I come

to stop. Silence. Darkness. I don’t feel anything. I don’t see anything. I try to move, but I’m not

really sure where my body is. I call out.... Nothing. I call again... No response, but I’m not

worried. I’m calm. Oddly calm, I feel like a comforter blanket has been laid over me. Or

whatever is left of me. Then I see it. A faint light radiating from the right side of my field of

vision. I turn to face its glow. As I try to move closer its intensity grows.

[Author’s Last Name] / [1-2 Words from Title] / 4

Am I dead? I can’t be? Can I? I did hit that car pretty hard. Or did they hit me? I call out once

more. The light grows even brighter. I can’t be dead. I wasn’t ready. I’m not ready. I try to move

my body and I feel myself motion upwards. Like someone is carrying me. I now see the light;

it’s warm flare enveloping me for a moment. The gates of heaven beckoning me forth? ... Oh

no... Wait... That’s a camera flash... And another. I must be hurt pretty bad to warrant a photo.

First time someone’s taking a photo of me without asking. I can feel my arms now as I push up

off the road. I’m sat up, looking around at the gathering crowd of worried faces.

“I’m okay,” I say to the crowd as I get my bearings. I turn to look behind me to see the car I

collided with. A nice Caleb shaped dent on its bonnet and a crack in the windscreen to boot. I see

someone through the cracked glass, but I can’t really make out whom it is.

“I’m alright!” I shout at the person inside the car, but they pay me no mind.

“Hello, I said I’m alright” still nothing from the driver. I turn to look back at the crowd. A ring of

faces around me. “Are they o--” I start to ask, but that’s when I stop myself. I notice my voice. It

echoes, ever so slightly. Like in a dream. Am I dreaming? That’s it, I must be, and I just got so

drunk at the bar that I passed out. I don’t feel hurt, so I must be fine. Still bewildered I shakily

get to my feet. I look around at everyone. Can’t say I’m too impressed that no one helped me up.

Typical Londoners. They are all still focused on the ground. I turn to see where their gaze leads

them...

I see what has so many people concerned... It’s me. My crumpled body lies in a sorry heap in the

middle of the road, unmoving. I stand rooted to the spot in dread. People have their phones out

recording me for any signs of movement; you think someone would at least check for a pulse.

[Author’s Last Name] / [1-2 Words from Title] / 5

Safe to say I don’t think I’ll be getting up. I look over my current body. Not a scratch, but then I

notice something, a faint blue aura around me. Like a neon light I illuminate everyone around

me. Again, they don’t seem to care. I don’t say anything. I fade back from the crowd and my

twisted, mangled body.

I didn’t mean it when I said I didn’t want to be here, I just didn’t want to be in that place. I look

around the London street, everything’s different. Colors, sounds, smell they’re all somewhat

muted; like someone has turned the dial down on my life. People’s conversations are muffled. I

can make out bits of words and not much more. I shout at a nearby viewer of my frozen body

“Can you hear me?” she doesn’t respond. “Hello!” she cranes her neck to get a better look at the

show. “Hey, listen to me!” I reach for her arm with my hand and I pass right through her. My

blue aura growing stronger as my hand passes into her left arm and inside her torso. It isn’t

painful for me and certainly not for her, but I recoil in horror. My legs give out from under me as

I collapse to the floor. My breathing races as waves of panic wash over me. People rush past me

as they tend to my lifeless body. I watch on as an ambulance comes into view from the apposing

end of the street, its flashing red lights overpowering the faint blue glow I radiate.

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit” I say to myself. My words eventually mumbling into a desperate

weep. The realization hitting me much like that car.

I look around my now numb world as I slowly rise to my feet and back away from the

commotion. No one really wants to see a dead body, especially your own. Those people just

don’t realize what they’re looking at yet. I continue to shuffle away from the reminder that I’m

[Author’s Last Name] / [1-2 Words from Title] / 6

dead. I look down at my hand, looking it over, the blue glow shimmering like light hitting the

ocean. I’m horrendously hypnotized by it momentarily, until I hear the closest thing to a distinct

sound since the crack of my own skull. A sweeping wind, like something blustering through a

cave, I feel its push against me, forcing me to sturdy myself. I turn back to see a tall cloaked

being standing over my now surely dead body. The figure’s body is obscured by the black robe it

wears; it stands taller than the rest of the crowd, a good three feet taller than the tallest person

and that tallest people is unfazed by its presence, as is everyone else. The being looks like

something from a dream... or a nightmare, at this point I’d say nightmare. It stands motionless

looking down on my unmoving body. I cautiously move towards the crowd again. Then the

figure moves. Sweeping a cloaked arm over my floored body, like it’s wiping it away and then...

Nothing. The figure stands still once more, but only for a second as it tries the motion again. It

stands there immovable, unreadable. I gently move forward as to not to alert this creature. I’m

only a few feet away when it raises its head in my direction. The beings face a white mask of

emotionless guise. It’s eyes merely black slits on its face and its mouth a thin, wispy line. I can’t

tell what it’s feeling, but I know what I am. That impulse we all have when we’re in danger.

Those fight or flight instincts instilled in every animal have. I respond in the way me dear Ma

would when she was startled by something. More often than not by me or me brotha. I shriek out

in the only way she could. “Jesus fockin’ Christ!”

I take off as fast as my legs can carry me.