Trapped In Your Obsession

"Welcome to the morgue, Joanna Arden. Wake up!"

The voice did not come through Joanna's ears. It was born directly inside her skull, crawling down her spine before spreading through every nerve in her body.

Her eyelids trembled. Not because she wanted to wake up, but because something was forcing them open.

The moment her eyes opened, the fluorescent light overhead struck her. Cold. White. Deadly. The air around her felt like icy hands pressing against her skin. A sharp chemical smell invaded her nostrils. Joanna coughed. Her throat felt as though it had been scraped raw with sandpaper.

"The morgue?" Her voice came out hoarse. Her neck burned. There was pain there, like the lingering mark of a rope or someone's grip.

"Yes."

Joanna turned her head. The movement was too fast. Pain throbbed through her skull.

A man stood before her.

No, not stood.

Floated.

His entire body glowed a bluish white, translucent as thin glass. The sight startled her and sent a chill of fear through her.

"I'm not a ghost. Nor am I a god of death." The man's voice was flat and emotionless. "Call me Soul Keeper."

Joanna didn't answer. Something felt wrong. She realized she wasn't breathing.

Her heartbeat was gone.

Then the memories came.

Headlights approaching from the opposite direction. The long blare of a horn. The sound of a violent crash. Then darkness.

"Wasn't I supposed to be in a car accident?" Joanna's voice trembled.

Soul Keeper didn't answer.

He simply drifted aside, revealing a metal table behind him. A body lay upon it beneath a white sheet. The fabric over the head was stained dark red.

Still wet.

"Am I dead?" Joanna asked.

It wasn't really a question. She already knew the answer. But she said it anyway, as if speaking the words aloud might somehow undo reality.

Soul Keeper nodded.

"That's your body."

Joanna laughed. The sound was short and bitter. "Very funny."

She stared at Soul Keeper, searching for a crack in the illusion. Maybe someone would burst through the door screaming, "Surprise!"

But Soul Keeper remained silent.vOnly the cold. The smell of formaldehyde and the bloodstained white sheet.

With trembling hands, Joanna pushed herself upright from the metal table. Only then did she realize she was naked. Her entire body felt cold. She grabbed a nearby cloth and covered her chest and thighs.

Then she noticed something when she looked at her hands.

They weren't her hands.

A white plastic bracelet with a black stripe circled her left wrist. The black lettering read:

MILLIE HART, AGE 18.

Just below it was a deep slash across her wrist. The wound gaped open, dark red at the edges, yet no blood flowed from it.

"This isn't my body," Joanna whispered.

"Millie Hart died by suicide two minutes before your accident," Soul Keeper said. "Her soul departed. Her body became empty. Your soul filled it."

"What do you mean, filled it?"

"Your body was destroyed. A soul requires a vessel, and you entered hers."

"Destroyed?" she murmured.

She didn't cry. Not yet.

She stared at the body beneath the white sheet. Her steps wavered as she approached it. Joanna reached for the edge of the fabric. But she couldn't bring herself to lift it. She was afraid of the truth.

"I'll do it," Soul Keeper said.

From several feet away, he raised a hand. Without touching it, the sheet lifted into the air.

Joanna screamed and staggered backward until she slammed into the metal table she'd awakened on.

It was her face.

Or what remained of it.

The left side of her forehead had split open. Dried blood stained her cheeks, nose, and half-open lips. Her left eye was swollen shut beneath dark purple bruising.

Her right eye remained half open, staring at nothing. Only pale white. Her right arm bent backward at the elbow. The bone had to be broken in at least two places.

Nausea surged into Joanna's throat.  But nothing came out. Maybe corpses couldn't vomit.

"Joanna Arden," Soul Keeper said, sounding like he was reading a medical report. "Twenty-four years old. Pronounced dead at 9:45 p.m. Cause of death: blunt-force trauma resulting from a traffic collision."

Tears fell. She didn't even feel them coming. No warmth in her eyes. No pressure in her chest beforehand. One wet trail appeared on her cheek. Then another. Until her entire face was drenched.

She wanted to scream. But there wasn't enough air. She wanted to smash something. But her hands trembled too violently. She wanted to run.But her legs refused to move.

So she simply stood there. Staring at her own lifeless face.Crying in silence.

"I remember everything," Joanna finally said. "The car. The black car. They followed me from the previous stoplight. Then another car came from the opposite direction. They boxed me in."

She turned toward Soul Keeper. Her eyes were red. But beneath the tears was something else.

"That wasn't an accident."

It wasn't a question. It was a fact.

Soul Keeper nodded.

"Correct. It wasn't an accident."

"I signed a three-billion-dollar project contract last week," Joanna whispered. "Next week, I was supposed to be announced as the youngest director in the company. My grandfather just told me he was proud of me. And now..."

Her breath caught.

"And now I'm a corpse."

She closed her eyes. Her body shook violently. Her shoulders trembled beneath the weight of emotions colliding inside her. She stood there for a long time.

And when Joanna opened her eyes again, the tears had stopped. Not because she had accepted her fate. But because anger had taken their place.

Soul Keeper waved his hand. Blue numbers appeared before her, floating in the air.

90:00:00

"What is this?"

"You have ninety days to find the person who killed you. If you succeed, your soul will continue its journey."

"And if I fail?"

"You will become a trapped soul, left in this world unable to do anything. Not even take revenge."

Those words became burning embers inside her chest.

"So I was murdered?"

"Yes."

"Who?"

Joanna clenched her fists so tightly that her entire body began trembling again.

"I can't tell you," Soul Keeper continued. "That's part of your mission."

Joanna stared at her shattered body lying on the metal table. Then at her new hands marked by a suicide wound. Then at the ninety-day countdown still hovering in the air.

"Use your second chance wisely. From this moment on, your body and soul will live again."

Soul Keeper snapped his fingers. His form began to fade.

"Wait!"

There was no answer. The room fell silent. 

Then Joanna felt something change. Her heart began pounding. Her chest rose and fell as air rushed into her lungs, leaving her gasping. Joanna looked down. Fresh blood flowed from the wound on her new wrist. Then pain slammed into every part of her body.

"Help! Help me!"

She ran for the door and collapsed into the hospital corridor.

No.

I don't want to die again.

She dragged herself forward through her own blood.

Not before dragging them into hell with me.