I was pretty well-known in my world.
Before I died the first time, I was one of the most influential figures alive, and I loved going around talking about how successful I was.
It was fascinating how rich people got hooked on hearing a complete stranger tell them how he made it big. Usually middle-class folks — they were the ones who really got impressed.
I had a lot of ventures, sure, but the one job I loved the most was the one where I sold people the brief fantasy they could afford. Want to be rich? I'll tell you how. Want to win the love of your life? Pay me and I'll give you the secret.
The real trick to keeping loyal clients? Just give them enough to never become independent of you.
Like a drug dealer, handing out just the right amount for you to get addicted.
Except my business was legal.
(Well... mostly legal. I dabbled in the other kind, too.)
But hey — it's easier said than done. Even though I was kind of a big deal back then, highly respected and influential, I was never truly satisfied with life.
I knew a lot of people — that's true — but I wouldn't call any of them friends. They were just tools to get me somewhere. I had no one to call family, either. My entire luxurious life was... purposeless.
Not that I'm complaining. I was one of the best in the world. Just not the best at everything.
And yeah... that bothered me.
I used to preach about how people should keep their bodies healthy and fit — but I never stepped foot in a gym. I was just lucky to have killer genetics, and expensive clothes that made me look sharp, so no one ever noticed I wasn't all that in shape.
It was a life of abundance. Full of perks. Even fun at times.
But all of that changed the day I died for the first time.
I was heading back to my hotel after giving a talk at the UN — yep, the actual United Nations. Representing my country, shaking hands, collecting contacts, getting promises for future gigs... the usual. I was so done with those people. I just wanted to crash.
I made sure to be one of the last to leave, just to maintain the illusion. You know, that carefully crafted personality I put on for events like these. Outgoing, warm, super approachable — it's not that hard to fake it for a few hours.
You'll see.
On the way to my room, I was already thinking about the checklist waiting for me the next day. My schedule? Completely full, as always.
Sounded like a pain in the ass.
"Ugh, what a headache," I muttered to myself.
That's when I had the brilliant idea to call an escort to help me sleep better — if you know what I mean.
She wasn't technically an escort, just to be clear. She was a supermodel. People like me — or like I used to be — don't pay for company. They offer to be around you.
Why?
Power.
I walked into my suite and started filling the bathtub. The supermodel would arrive soon, and the night promised to be... entertaining.
Of course, since I was ridiculously stressed, I started to worry I might not perform at my usual standard. So, naturally, I popped a couple of performance pills — just to be safe.
I also prepped a bottle of wine. One of the cheap ones — but with a fake high-end label. Truth is, wine all tastes the same. The people who pay absurd amounts for it are either complete idiots or desperate to seem like someone they're not.
I knew packaging mattered more than taste, so I always had someone label the cheap stuff for me.
I took a sip and slid into the tub I'd prepared myself.
And for what?
Seconds later, I felt something weird in my chest. A tingling in my arm.
"Shit!"
I said it out loud. Tried to move — but as I stood up from the tub, I slipped. Crashed straight to the floor. My legs wouldn't respond.
I was having a heart attack. Right there.
What happened next is kind of fuzzy. The only thing I remember is everything... freezing. Like the world hit pause and I was watching the scene from above.
"What the hell was that?! What is this?! What's happening?!"
I said the words — or maybe just thought them. My mouth wasn't really working.
"Why can't I see my hands? Where the hell are my hands?!"
I hadn't realized it yet, but I was just a soul, hovering over my own body — freshly and pathetically dead on the floor.
It took a few minutes for me to regain any kind of mental stability. And just as I stopped asking myself a barrage of useless questions... He showed up.
"Hello, Dante. This is the moment when you die."
"Who's speaking?" I asked.
I looked around, hoping to see something, anything — but all I got was the same paused scene, frozen mid-fall.
"My name doesn't matter," he said. "I'm just in charge of this transition you're about to go through."
"So I'm really dead?? This isn't some dream??"
"Yes, you're dead. And no, it's not a dream."
"Son of a bitch!"
"Try to stay calm. It's common for your type to react like this. But there's nothing to worry about."
If I still had eyebrows, I would've furrowed them.
"My type? What do you mean, 'my type'?"
"Dante, you're a very specific kind of human. The kind that lives arrogantly, thinking you know everything, thinking you don't need anyone. And still... you live a completely miserable life."
"That's not true!" I protested. "I had everything — and I was totally humble about it!"
"You're not like that," he said calmly. "You pretend to be. And some believe you. But others, like me... don't."
I went silent. What was I supposed to say? Throw a tantrum at the guy who claimed he was taking me to the afterlife? Yeah — probably not smart.
"This is how things are going to work now," he continued. "You're going to get another chance. One more shot to prove you're worthy. A second life — with a few conveniences. You'll need them."
"I get to go back in time?" I asked, already getting excited, imagining all the missed investment opportunities I could finally jump on.
Maybe I'd even become some kind of world dictator this time around — finally rule my own country.
"No," he said, "you will live an entirely new life. But with the goal of learning certain lessons — humility, truth, and charity. This will be your test... to reach the higher paths."
A new life didn't sound so bad, honestly. As long as I had a few connections, I figured I'd manage just fine.
"And what's this new life going to be like?" I asked.
"You'll see."
And then, my vision started to pull back from the frozen scene.
Where moments ago I saw myself — pathetically sprawled out on the floor — I now saw the Earth itself. Then even farther back: the entire galaxy. Then the whole universe... shrinking into a single dot in the distance.
After that? Just darkness. Until suddenly, I was launched into a purple light — violently — and I fell.
I woke up gasping.
The ground was ice-cold and my body was throbbing with pain. I cried out. It felt like something inside me had snapped.
"What's going on?!" shouted a voice.
And when it approached, I almost forgot about the physical pain because of the pure terror I felt instead.
It was a hideous creature — pointy ears, yellow teeth… and green. So, so ugly. It stared down at me with the attitude of someone already fed up with my existence.
I screamed. Loudly.
And ran.
I sprinted past several other disgusting, green, snarling things, shoving them aside as I bolted forward.
My chest burned. I coughed up blood mid-run. And then I stopped — not by choice. My body simply gave out.
I collapsed next to what looked like a puddle of water... or maybe piss. Honestly, it could've been either.
But the reflection I caught in that murky liquid was enough to make me black out on the spot.
It was vague, but painfully clear at the same time:
Something hideous.
Something green.
Me.