The Dread of Damned

Chapter 1: WHITE

I opened my eyes and looked around. My vision was blurry, but I could hear people talking. Their voices sounded happy and excited, though I couldn't understand a single word. What was happening? Hadn't I just died?

I died at the age of seventy due to cancer. I could still remember the excruciating pain I endured in my final months and the sweet release that death brought as my salvation. It wasn't that I wanted to leave my loved ones behind, but holding on had become unbearable. My last memory was of my children, a son and a daughter, their faces filled with tears. My wife had passed away a few years earlier. Still, I had lived a decent life and left behind considerable assets, so my kids would be well taken care of.

Back to the present—I was slowly getting my bearings. As I looked around, I found myself in what seemed like an ancient room. There was a massive window with the moon shining through, white curtains fluttering in the night breeze. The ground was made of polished white marble, and I noticed large double doors intricately decorated with mystic patterns. The doors were open, with people bustling in and out hurriedly.

I realized I was lying on something soft, warm, and incredibly comfortable. It was so cozy that I didn't even want to move. I felt a pair of gentle hands patting me, and when I finally mustered the willpower to shift, I looked up and saw a woman.

Perhaps she was an angel, I thought, for she had white hair and striking white eyes. I also realized that the soft surface I was resting on was her chest, her warm embrace making me feel secure. She was looking at me with such a loving gaze that I was momentarily mesmerized. Then, she spoke:

"@%$* &~@$)@) &^#@$"

I couldn't understand a word she was saying.

I tore my gaze away from her and looked around the room. There was an elderly woman standing nearby, along with a burly man who also had white hair and eyes, his expression visibly joyful. A little girl was watching me with a mix of excitement and anticipation. Other people were coming and going, but they didn't seem noteworthy.

I began to understand what might be happening. Was I reincarnated? Or perhaps transmigrated? I was never too good at remembering the right terms. But the key point was that I had somehow been given a second chance at life.

That is, if I was understanding things correctly—and if this wasn't some form of hell.

Suddenly, I realized something else—I was feeling incredibly thirsty.

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