Enter (stage right ) Realization.
"Dead! Aint I ??"
He tries to explain the other possibilities to his dearest friend alter ego. Not hallucination. Not drugs. Nothing else. Shadow stealer??? Pshaw!!
The finger again. His eyes are closed. He cannot follow the movements that are taking place around him, so he does a safety. Like a crane in sand.
"I am dead, aint I? Dead as the dead are? Dead and deader? Deadest?Oh cmon tell me! I am dead right?", he screams at the alley and opens his eyes to hear the last words he would ever hear; just before a blinding flash explodes his brain into a thousand crimson stars;
"You are. Now..."
[The purple part has been written by the noted writer Preeti, while the rest has been penned by me as a part of an exercise. The parts, each, have been penned in 10 minutes flat. Picture courtesy "That Yellow Bastard" by Frank Miller (Sin City Series).Do excuse creative injustice and other subtleties on my end. Period. Go. Read.]