Hello! My name is Alexander, and I am dead. Yep D. E. A. D. Dead. But don't worry I won't stay dead for too long anyway. That ball of light said I was going to be reincarnated, whatever that means. All I know is it means I will live again. Wait a second someone is telling me something. Huh? Well, it seems I have to stop talking to you and get on with the story.
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I see a HUGE truck barreling down the street, and I say "Fuck," before I am turned into jelly and spread across the street.
Everything turns black and I, feel compressed by a wet, hot and fleshy prison. A light suddenly appears in the darkness, blinding me for a few seconds.
"Hello, Alexander I am your assigned soul guardian Xavier. It seems that your soul can't be, renewed anymore," it says.
"Uh... hi." I hesitantly say "Do you know what is going on and is my soul going to be ok?"
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
"Well, that is the thing we don't know, what will happen," it says.
"Do you know anything that might happen?"
"Oh yeah, I almost forgot, you might feel a lot of pain when you are born."
"Wait, born? I just died a few seconds ago."
"Well I would like to talk to you some more, but you are about to be born."
"Wait! I still have to ask you things."
"Don't worry you can tell me when you reincarnate next."
The light disappears, and I feel something pushing on me. The fleshy prison keeps on pushing harder, and I see, light. As my skin, touches the air I feel it burn. Ow ow ow. I am a bit ashamed of it but, I start to cry as more of my body touches the air. Fuck you it hurts... a lot.
Someone cuts my umbilical cord, and I am, carried away. I feel warm water cover me, and rags wash off the blood and other nasty things off me. I am wrapped up in a blanket and given to my mother. Expecting, a smiling face, I am taken back by an annoyed look. Like I was a chore. She moves me to her chest, and I think, no way I am a wholesome man with christen values I will not. Interupted by a nipple shoved into, my mouth, and my survival instincts take over. What happens next I will not talk, about.