Everything hurt and I did not think that was fair.
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I felt like I was on fire, being moved, there was light, vague images. Noise. Pain.
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When you are spirit, when you are dead, it should stop hurting. No wonder the spirits didn't tell us about this. We would fear death greatly if we knew it hurt this much, was this dark. Cold. This lonely.
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Wet noises and pain in my face told me I was having trouble breathing. I couldn't see and my eyes ached. After that there was a long list and I knew that it was by no means complete. I also knew I wasn't dead because I wished that I was. I was lying on something comfortable, on my side. It was cold.
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The grunt was involuntarily and woke me fully from a nightmare into another one. My hand hurt, a sharp stabbing, twisting pain like I had never imagined in my most cruel nightmares. This must be what it is like to be tortured, I thought.
“Make him live.”
I grunted again, trying to say something but my jaw didn't work properly. Nothing did. 'No,' I had tried to say, 'just kill me quickly.'
“As you command.”
I recognized the voice and felt a wave of hope as I realized that the pain was about to go away. It did and so did I.