Chapter 1: Prologue

((Only the prologue is written from a first person perspective))

My name is Sander Brooke and death sucks. I remember in my childhood, the many fond memories spent with family, we had a large family, we had parties, the biggest birthday parties you can imagine, but as the years went on it seemed like everyone in my family found some way to the end of their lives. Whether it was disease, accidents or even suicide, by the time I turned 14 I had only my sister left. Before I became an adult, she too would succumb to the world. You could call it fate, bad luck or anything else but I had been through dozens of funerals and only a handful of weddings, our family didn’t grow, it just crumbled. Throughout my childhood and teenage years, I always wanted the power to change death, to bring people back or to stop death entirely. I know everyone had dreams like that, whether it was to be a superhero, to have powers to be a wizard, whether you watched movies, anime, read books, whatever medium you used, we’d all fantasize to some extent. I loved fantasizing because there I had the power to bring back the people I loved, to bring back the times I was happiest.

I do not live in a world with magic or superpowers though, but that didn’t stop this fantasy from becoming an obsession. I had the internet, that was as close to a superpower as you could get if you asked me. The world of information at your fingertips and it was full of legends, myths and conspiracy theories. I started looking into science, the occult, whatever options there were that proclaimed to have some way to bring power over life and death. Science felt like a dead end, we weren’t advanced enough, we didn’t know enough and even if we did, we’d need the living to be able to prevent death, we couldn’t bring back when we didn’t even know if there was an afterlife. Religion felt like it was all about acceptance of death, the occult most of the time was just strange but whether it was making a deal with the devil or invoking some ancient deity, there were myths over people who had power over life and death.

So, I went to school for as long as I could, I wasn’t well off so I couldn’t go to college, I started working jobs that gave me as much time as possible to devote to my obsession. I ventured in to doing part time jobs during the night shift, worked as a security guard. I signed up for medical testing, donated plasma, and anything you can imagine just to get by. I preferred jobs that would allow me to browse the internet.

Now in my 20’s I tried rituals, I tried summoning demons, I tried actions taken in creepypasta stories that had some sort of relation to bringing back the dead. None of them worked, and though I kept trying I found myself becoming discouraged. During one of my jobs, I met a girl named Annika, Annie for short, who I unexpectedly hit it off with, she loved hearing about the occult, rituals, magic... She was a few years younger than me and loved wiccan witchcraft.

Fast forward six years and we were married, I hadn’t given up my obsession completely, but it certainly took a backseat to my newfound happiness, for the first time I felt I had gained some happiness. Honestly, if you had asked me at any time, I stopped believing that it would end. We spoke about growing old together, for the first time in a long time I felt like I had a future worth looking forward to.

But here I am, in my last desperate attempt to bring her back, when I’m certain that this world is just devoid of magic and filled with misery. I lost her too, a car accident. I wish I had died as well but I lived, and she didn’t. I woke up from a coma after two years, went through physical therapy only to be cast out into a world that has nothing left for me.

I found a ritual that if done right can bring her back… I’m desperate, like I said, the upside for me is that if it fails, I’ll die anyway, and if it succeeds, I’ll have her back. I sat in a cheap motel room, I had put all the furniture on the walls, I got the necessary ingredients, which were surprisingly easy to find since the main ingredient was my blood and soul. If I succeeded, I would bring her back but damn my soul in the process… But that would be after I lived my life with her and well, I’m not exactly thinking of long-term consequences here, just short-term gains.

But this world doesn’t have magic, so I took poison, hemlock and cut my wrist to let blood flow into a bowl, I spoke some ancient words and wouldn’t you know it, I passed out before I could even finish the sentence. I probably should have waited considering I hadn’t slept in days, but desperation didn’t make my anymore logical and so at age 34 I followed my family and wife into the afterlife.

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