I always thought it would take me a long time to die. This may seem like a morbid thought, but it's really not. I mean, if it takes me 78 years to finally kick off from old age, then I've got plenty of time to settle things. Make some friends, say goodbye to them, play some candy crush, and finally die in my sleep, or more morbidly, I get a bullet to the heart and have a full 5 frickin' minutes to say my tearful farewells to my loved ones. Then I get to go happily off into heaven or some sh*t like that.

But reality hit me hard, right in the face. I wasn't expecting my death. I mean, how the hell could I expect some mummied dude to just waltz up to me and start slicing? Of course, I didn't really feel anything besides the first stroke, me being dead and all, but let me tell you it was not slow. One minute, I'm taking out the garbage, the next, I'm bleeding brains all over the concrete. Kinda sucks, doesn't it?

The first thing I saw after my death was me, and I was not pretty. You want me to describe me? Google "goatse" and click on images. If you haven't vomited, then maybe, just maybe I'll describe what I looked like. If you beg. And bring me cake. And a couple of cookies wouldn't hurt.

I think I was about to say something along the lines of shitnofuckityfuckfucknofucking- shitwhymeAAAAHHH when I was suddenly grabbed, yanked to my feet, and shaken vigorously. What I screamed instead was "GET OFF!" I was released and thumped right down onto my own corpse. My hand sunk into a particularly nasty wound on my corpse's stomach, and came away with blood and shredded skin and mushy, clingy flesh. I opened my mouth to scream, but before I could, I heard someone speak.

"Are you okay?!" I heard, and even through the cottony film of terror I had recently developed I was aware of how stupid that question was. Someone knelt beside me, (the real me, mind you not the corpse) and snatched my face in his hand, wrenching it to and fro to check for damage. I almost bit him out of sheer reflex before I realized who he was, and when I did I was so surprised, I almost forgot my recent loss of life.

It was the Cat. His real name is Catrophis, but that's a pain to remember, so I called him Cat. He was tall, and he had muscles that looked like they were made for beating up elephants or dragons or something. Not to mention the scars- the guy looked like he'd been through a blender at least 3 times.

Right then, he had blood on his face that I wondered at for a moment before remembering that it was probably my blood.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?! Can't you take care of yourself for 5 fucking minutes?!" Cat screamed right in my face. "You see one of those things, you run, idiot!" He waved his arms in accusatory circles in my face. And that's when I got mad.

"Wait, wait. Are you seriously yelling at me? Now?! What the hell's wrong with you?!"

I jabbed my finger at the corpse on the ground. "THAT'S ME. I have one helluva lot better reason for freaking out than you do!" We glared at each other for a bit, during which I half forgot what we were arguing about because I noticed a single, blonde hair growing out of his forehead. How long had that been there? There was a rustle from overhead. Honestly, I was a little preoccupied with the forehead hair to pay much attention to it. Probably just birds or something.

Cat eyes went wide and the forehead hair went up an inch.

"Fiona?" he said, warily. "Don't. Move."

I took my eyes away from the forehead hair. "What's the matter?"

Imagine the sound of ten thousand chainsaws put into a giant blender with eight thousand dead, squelchy, rotted mice, and you might get close to what I heard next.

"SQUEEEEEEEEEECQEEEEEEEEE!!!!"

Oh shit. I whipped around, trying to find the source of the horrible noise. My eye caught on some sort of black smudge on the roof of my apartment complex. Then I realized it wasn't a smudge, but some sort of mummy looking thing. Even from that distance, the thing was the most revolting thing I'd ever seen in my short life. The bandages looked like they were the only thing keeping it together, tightly binding mushy flesh that came oozing out of tiny openings. The only other time I'd ever seen anything remotely like him was the last time my sister tried on skinny jeans, (no offense sis, if you're reading.) The mere sight of it made me freeze.

The thing lunged forward towards me, and I couldn't think of what else to do at the time, so I said "AH!" and threw my arms in front of my face. There was a feeling like 20 gallons of ice cold water running through me, and the bandaged man was gone. I glanced rapidly in every direction, trying to find where he'd gone, and found him flat on his face directly behind me. He'd tripped. I almost laughed, but then Bandage Man pushed himself off the ground and plunged a hand into his own gut; and like an idiot I just stood there and watched him. It withdrew a long, black sword from his gut with a disgusting SPLORP! and raised it at me. Bandage Man lunged forward again, but this time his progress was stopped by Cat, who came at the bastard from the side and kicked him in the head. Bandage Man reeled off to the side, only barely managing to keep on his feet and swerving around Cat to wheel his sword at me. I dodged the blade by pure instinct and threw a punch of my own, but instead of making contact, my fist went straight through and I felt that same wave of coolness rush through me.

I lost balance and nearly fell over, but I caught myself just before I made contact with the ground. I couldn't touch the damn guy! Bandage Man came for me again, raising his wicked blade like he was about to strike, but then Cat came up from behind him and yanked on one of the bastard's bandages. Bandage Man lurched back, swinging his sword in a wild arc behind him. Cat ducked and I could see the glint of another blade and then a spray of black liquid coming from Bandage Man. Bandage man shoved his hand forward, pushing off of Cat and back towards me, swinging his blade wildly.

I didn't really have time to dodge, and it shouldn't have mattered because if my guess was right he couldn't do any more harm to me than I could to him, but just then all the wind was knocked out of me as something hard connected with my stomach. It was the sword, which had by some miracle of luck hit me with the back rather than the blade. I wheezed as pain spread through my torso, barely having time to dodge another frenzied swing.. Bandage Man backed off for a moment clutching at his wound, and I took the moment to catch my breath.

Bandage Man came for me again and stabbed for my head, but this time I was ready. I sidestepped the blow and made a wild grab for the handle of the sword. My hand went straight through his to grasp the handle, and I yanked back as hard as I could. Bandage Man kept hold of his sword until Cat came up behind him and stuck a knife in the side of his neck. 

Bandage man shrieked. I wrenched the sword from his hand and awkwardly thrusted the blade forward, feeling it sink through Bandage Man's stomach. He flailed his arms at me, giving me the sensation of being shot repeatedly with a water cannon filled with ice water. I ripped the sword from his stomach and swung down on his head. The sword vibrated violently as it crashed through Bandage Man's skull, and for some reason, it made me angry. I twisted my new sword from his head and he fell forward. He was coming for me, so I swung down on the bastard again and again and again, black blood and guts coming out everywhere.

Even though Bandage Man was reduced to a mere smudge in the concrete, all I wanted to do was go steal my mom's car keys and run over the fucker again! It was then I noticed Cat standing there. I wheeled on him and jabbed my finger in his face.

"I thought you were supposed to protect me from those things jackass!" I snarled. It came out scarier than I expected. I guessed that one of the benefits of being dead was a freaky voice.

"You're overreacting."

My anger intensified.

"Overreacting?! I'm dead!" It was my turn to wave my arms in accusatory circles now.

"Hey! I'm just as dead as you are if my boss finds out!"

"I wouldn't be so worried about your boss..."

Cat wasn't listening anymore. He looked deep in thought and I was just about to bring up a fist and punch him in the face when he bore his demon teeth in a grin.

"I have an idea." He looked down at my corpse and grabbed its wrist, then started dragging it off into a patch of trees. A trail of blood was left and so was one of my legs. I didn't know what he's doing, but even dead I really didn't want to be without a leg, so I gingerly picked up my leg and followed him. He tossed my body unceremoniously in a clump of trees, turned, grabbed the leg, and flopped it down on top of the pile of me. He threw a fistfull of leaves on top.

"Are you... hiding my body?" I asked.

"Yep."

"Well that's just great. I'm sure no one will ever find me there! Unless they have eyes, or noses, or can walk, so if you have any other bright ideas that factor those into the equation, that would be just fantastic," I snarled through clenched teeth.

"Shut up. This isn't the plan. And gimme that! You're gonna take out someone's eye!" He grabbed my sword and yanked it out of my hand. I let it happen with a mental note to kill him later.

"Alright then, what is the plan? I need to know right now."

"I'm gonna bring you back to life."

(This is my first attempt at writing a story in first person, so any con-crit is welcome. Haters are funny too.)