Dead To Begin

Level 2 – Now You Die!

Jackson never wanted a goodbye like this. Yes, he had been angry with Charis—furious, even—but this wasn’t the ending he had imagined.

Tears broke free from his eyes, streaming down his smooth cheeks.

“I can help you, son.”

The sudden words from the older man made Jackson pause. He looked up, startled.

“Y-you can help me?” Jackson stared at him, torn between doubt and hope. The man nodded slowly. Jackson’s lips curled into a faint smile. It felt like a lifeline had been thrown his way. “Then please… help me,” he pleaded.

The middle-aged man stood and looked down at Jackson, who was still sitting on the ground.

“I’ll help you. But my help doesn’t come for free.”

“Tell me what you want. I’ll give you anything. As long as you help me. Whatever it is—money, possessions—I’ll give it to you.”

Jackson struggled to his feet, wincing from the pain. He reached out and grasped the man’s hands tightly, eyes filled with desperate hope. Maybe this man was his only chance to save Charis.

“I don’t want your money or your wealth,” the man replied. Jackson blinked, confused.

“T-then what do you want? Just tell me. I’ll give you anything if you help me.”

“You’ll know what I want once you arrive… and receive my message.”

Jackson fell silent. He didn’t understand what the man meant.

“Now, drink this.”

The man reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small antique glass vial filled with a shimmering red liquid.

“What is this?” Jackson took the vial and examined it. The liquid inside sparkled faintly.

“Drink it. You’ll understand afterward.”

Jackson hesitated. “No!” he snapped, his mind suddenly clear. “How can I trust you? What if you’re one of them—pretending to help me? We just met. How do I know you’re not lying?”

“Don’t worry. We’re on the same side. You want your girlfriend back. I want to reclaim something precious they stole from me. That’s why I’m helping you.”

“Then why give me this liquid? What is it?”

“Because you’re the chosen one. Only you can drink it. Only you can help me.”

“Is it poison?”

“Why would I poison you? We’ve just met. Killing you serves me no purpose. So drink it—and you’ll be able to save her.”

The man’s voice was calm, persuasive.

Jackson stared at the vial in his hand.

“If this is the only way to save Charis…” he thought, then uncorked the bottle and drank every last drop.

He looked at the man in front of him.

“So… what now?”

The man glanced at a golden pocket watch, then looked back at Jackson.

“Now… you die.”

Jackson’s eyes widened. The vial slipped from his hand and shattered on the ground. His throat burned. His body went limp. He collapsed.

*

THUD!

Jackson lay motionless on the ground. Moments later, the man crouched beside him, picked up the broken vial, wiped it clean with a handkerchief, and tucked it back into his coat.

“And… the game begins.”

*

“What do we do now? I want to get out of here!”

“Calm down. If you panic, you won’t think clearly. That’ll block any ideas from forming.”

“How can I stay calm? I don’t even know where I am!”

Jackson could hear voices—faint at first, then growing clearer as his consciousness returned. A woman arguing with a man. He opened his eyes slowly, groaning. This time, the pain wasn’t in his body—it was in his head. His limbs felt… numb.

“He’s awake!”

The woman’s voice grew louder as she and the man approached.

Jackson blinked. A handsome man with pale skin and jet-black hair sat beside a young woman with soft brown hair and round, expressive eyes.

“Are you okay?” the man asked.

Jackson squinted, trying to focus. He could now see both of them clearly.

He tried to sit up. They quickly helped him into a seated position. He held his head, wincing.

“Where am I?” Jackson asked, glancing between them. Then he looked around. They were in a room dominated by white light, surrounded by darkness. Only one area was illuminated—the space they occupied.

“We don’t know either. When we woke up, we were already here,” Joanne Luvena explained.

Jackson fell silent, trying to recall what had happened. The last thing he remembered was the middle-aged man giving him the strange liquid… and telling him he had died.

But this didn’t feel like death.

Was this the afterlife?

No. If it were, why were there others here?

“The last thing I remember was meeting that man… the one who gave me the red liquid after offering to help me. Oh right—Charis…”

Jackson’s heart sank again. He had to save her. But why was he trapped in this strange place? Where was the exit? How could he rescue her like this?

“So… you too…”

Smith Edison’s voice trailed off, stunned by Jackson’s words. Joanne’s expression mirrored his. She looked between the two men.

“So I wasn’t the only one who met that man,” Joanne said. Jackson and Smith turned to her.

“You mean… you met him too?” Jackson asked.

“Are you talking about the well-dressed man who offered help and gave you a strange blue liquid?” Smith asked.

“Yes,” Jackson and Joanne replied in unison.

“But mine was red, not blue.”