Page 14 of The Diary of the Vam'pir Jacques

But the most fundamental belief people hold is Heaven, or life after death, exists. So, the question is, where was it? Without a doubt, I died, and I don’t understand what happened or not, as the case was.

What went wrong? I’m quite sure that none of the others had an afterlife experience, either. Does this imply the absence of a Creator, God, or Allah? Is the truth of our lives simply that we are born to struggle only to die? Is that the sum of living? I find myself struggling for meaning to our existence, not just mine, but yours too. What is the point of existing if there is nowhere better to go?

Plenty of times, I have asked people as I kill them what they see. Some say nothing but darkness, and others tell of lights and tunnels. Rarely they explain seeing great green fields, and the rest say a bright white light. Do people genuinely experiencethese phenomena, or does faith override reason? Even those who reject all beliefs witness something, so why didn’t I, a believer?

It is an unacceptable theory that we live and die. That makes little sense to me.

Where does a person’s soul go? Their spirit.

Ghosts have been seen, and despite the naysayers, too many have witnessed them. There has to be something, there has to be.

Honestly, I believe in an afterlife wholeheartedly. Even today, I feel the same, but I admit to being a little frightened of death. Death is a mysterious mistress. Together, death and I walk hand in hand with one another. Death is the one great love that is forever denied to me.

Yet I feed her weekly, sometimes daily, so in a way, I think I’m owed an explanation.Why didn’t I see Heaven?

If there is truly nothing, what a wretched existence we have. All that pain and happiness amounts to nothing. Is that not a frightening thought?

One passes away, gets laid in the ground, and rots. There is nowhere to go. That would be a true tragedy.

For sure, we base our smug little lives on the fact that no matter what we do, we will have an afterlife, whether it’s Heaven or Hell. What if everyone is in error? Imagine dying, and there is absolutely nothing waiting? Your soul just… fades. You cease to exist. The only afterlife you have is when people remember you.

Can you understand what I am trying to say?That Heaven or Hell is actually the human memory because, indeed, you are an angel or villain in people’s mind.

And shit, now I’ve depressed myself.

Oh, I’m not sure, perhaps I am rambling. I’m not God, if there is one. Maybe the stasis chamber being lowered at the exact time of my death resulted in the journey to the afterlife being held up.And truthfully, I haven’t come as close to death as I did then. I suspect chamber interference affected my journey.

That is a suitable explanation for me to swallow.

Though it may sound arrogant, I need to believe something exists. That when I kill, the souls of the dead move to a different level of existence. It would be hard to drink if people didn’t transition to another plane.

Okay, who am I trying to kid?Of course, I’d still do it. I don’t want to die, especially by starvation. It’s as simple as the alphabet.

Deep down, I believe in the Creator, whether he is called God, Ra, Allah, or Jehovah. I’m like everyone else; there must be something, or why live? I tell you one thing that is eternal. Whether man, animal or micro-organism, life will continue.

Even should Earth explode, life would persist elsewhere in the galaxy. I’m unsure if that fact offers comfort or not. Heaven and God can remain a mystery for all I care, one that repels and intrigues.

I have my life, and that is sufficient.

???

As you can imagine, I was aware I was dying. Therefore, it was rather a shock when I woke up. The darkness of night greeted me. I remained in the stasis chamber, but I had been washed and dressed in clean clothes. The top half of the chamber was raised and there was a cool breeze blowing over my body.

There was a needle in my hand, and when I lifted it, there was a drip inserted.

Puzzled, I frowned. I need not go into my last memories again as I’m sure you remember them as I do, so how was I still alive?Kaltos didn’t have the concepts of ghosts back then. Hauntings were a later idea.

There were a few droplets of blood dotted on my hands, and before I realised it, I had raised that one and licked them off. I suppose I should have been grossed out, but it just seemed normal. On hearing voices, I sat up and swung my legs off the bed.

“Jacques’s awake,” a voice said.

I turned and saw Maurick.

“You utter fucking bastard,” I exclaimed, reaching for his throat.

Maurick stepped back in alarm, raising his hands in self-defence, and cried, “It happened to me too!”

“I couldn’t give a damn. You killed her!” I was on my feet, hands reaching for his throat.

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