The cold, empty feeling of death grasped as Oliver's forlorn figure appeared in a space. Everything around him was midnight black with no shape or form anywhere in sight. His body looked like a blob of blood, undulating and moving across the empty space like a kite with its string broken.
His figure, the blood blob, was moving without purpose or reason, at times to the left, at times to the right, swaying and weaving as if trapped in an unpredictable current.
'I died.'
A thought formed in his mind as he grasped what had happened to him.
If his body could have been repaired, he would have awakened a while later, into a fully healed body. The fact that he came to the darkness meant he died.
'I died again. The sewer water must have made my body incapable of healing. And the injuries I sustained were no joke.'
