A man takes birth twice, one when he comes out of the womb, and the other one comes after a realisation—None is more important than oneself.
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Lightning covered the darkest night in a blue haze, and rain pattered softly upon the rooftops of the skyscrapers, which seemed to be piercing through the heavens itself.
In one such radiant skyscraper, flashes of light sparked from every corner leaving nothing untouched in its embrace. Flashes of cameras and constant pacing of feet echoed illuminated by the giant chandelier hanging above them all.
"Who would have thought? The greatest of all the Dons....would die in such a manner. Not bullets. Not imprisonment. But a measely heart attack? God truly was merciful towards his reign." Then a laughter, a morbid one, came out from the man taking the pictures of the corpse which was upon the premium upholstery.
The TV continued to play the news—A rise of the Imperial Group Company's stocks, and then the news about the Serpent Dust Syndicate flashed, it was ironic as the owner of both laid with drool leaving from the sides of his lips which made the fabric soaked.
A pitiful site of such a powerful man. This sentiment was shared by all the inspectors and the forensic analysts covering the area, as they collected the cracked lens of his rimless rectangular specs adorned with a navy blue frame from the ground which had fell from his hands when he faced the heart-attack.
"Joseph, why are you thinking so greatly about his death? Fuck him! At least now the city can get some fresh air from his tyranny." The cop, beside the one holding the camera and taking pictures, spoke out in a voice which matched that of a grizzly bear alongside his body resembling an orc.
He, with his meaty palms, clapped Joseph on the back making him stumble somewhat in surprise. Joseph quickly took back his balance, and showed the middle finger to the cop who simply laughed, but soon turned silent as one of their superiors gave them a quick glare—a warning to go back to collecting photos and to find, if the Don had hid some valuable informations about his empire.
It was said by 'one of the rats' that the man kept tabs on everyone, not even sparing the privacy of the family members of his allies, according to him anyone could become a thorn. Only time was needed to unveil the true nature.
"I wonder... Is he suffering in fiery depths of hell as of this moment or has he even manipulated god himself to give him entry to a new life, a new beginning, a new rule?" Joseph mused within but shook his head, why was he so curious? He had came here to do his job and after that he would return to his lovely wife, someone who was probably waiting for him eagerly.
With that thought in mind, he started taking pictures of the corpse and the surrounding, as the once opulent dining was now covered with tapes and a sense of pain for the loss of its owner.
Mr Shrolon Baniri.
Rest....In...Peace?
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I am a lot of things, traitor, murderer, drug lord and what not? Being bestowed with a lot of titles yet none represent me, a curse of infamy, I presume. But who would have thought? Death would strike me without a sound.
No bullets, no assassination, simply a betrayal by my own heart? Wow. That was unexpected.
But now, where am I? Doesn't seem like hell or heaven, more of a coma induced dream, eternal darkness to greet. Have I truly died?
Yes I did, there is no question, otherwise I wouldn't see me floating above my body right before this cocoon of darkness wrapped around me.
But if I am to be practical, this is probably the place of judgement mentioned in scriptures, a place where souls gets judged and placed in either three spots.
Hell
Heaven
Reincarnation
Or maybe there is more?... I don't know, never achieved enlightenment like Gautam Buddha.
I wonder, how much more time I will need to spend here, boredom is consuming and irritation is sparking.
A lonely soul's thought possessed enough power to draw the darkness more and more, a soul so bright was absorbing the darkness, a contrast to every expectation.
Shrolon was an enigma, a boy raised in a happy household yet due to his experience with poverty and ridicule of his family sparked his hunger and greed, a common story for many but for him it was personal.
A bright soul which didn't repel the darkness instead made a shield of it, absorbing it within, yet keeping himself untouched from many vile sins. But there was no excuse for his deed.
He was a Drug Kingpin, that was his identity, and he was proud of it. Due to such a thing, he was stoic to practically any danger that ever came to him, yet this unnatural darkness sparked irritation which was gnawing his mind and wrath was slowly arriving.
The void shook as the temperature of the soul increased, and tremors occured around, but nothing affected the soul. Only its vibration increased and finally the cocoon shattered as if glass, and the consciousness went blank..
Death is no more. Will had conquered it.
---
"Oi, Shrolon, wake up!" A burst of pain made the dark-brown eyes open with a snap. As a breath of air was taken, and the corpse had been granted a second chance.
Birds chirped, and the intensity of the morning light seemingly increased, it was like the very nature was celebrating the return of the soul that survived the darkness.
The young boy once laid upon the green land got up with slow intake of breath, as his arms that were toned seemed to wobble in place, and once he had got up, he touched the side of his fair cheek which had a reddish palm shaped hue printed on it.
"Ow." Only one word escaped in a raspy tone, as the young man gazed around with a vision that was slightly blurred just like his old body's vision, and finally gazed at his palms in concentration.
"Wait a minute.... Wasn't I dead? I am sure I was, but then how am I here? And this body is certainly not mine. I had more heavy sets of muscles and these clothes, not the premium quality I am accustomed to.
So this means, I have been reincarnated...."
"Oi!" Another slap was about to connect, but the hands of the 'young man shot up', or it would be better to say the hands of the now-reincarnated Shrolon shot up, gripping the slender wrists tight with a narrowed gaze as he turned his eyes to glare at the one daring enough to hit him. He never allowed anyone in his life, except for his parents, to ever hit him and those who dared to do so faced the consequences.
But as his eyes that made him see a blurred view focused, the sight made his wrath halt and only a thought went through his mind. Human desire sparked within him and he failed in restraining it.
"Beautiful...."