Chapter One: Phonograph For me, not believing in an after#life made living itself scary. Every waking moment had been a countdown to departure, a boring ride to the final destination. But it turns out, there was something. I was certain that I had died. Yet I found myself waking up in a massive, room. It wasn't ethereal, or strange, the walls and floors weren't white like those in a clichéd sanitarium, and there was no fire. I didn't see any doors, but I felt a throbbing pain in my chest. Flinching, I pulled out the knife that had been imbedded in my heart. The serrated blade made a ripping sound as it was removed, which was just as painful as it sounded. I swore and threw the knife across the room, impaling it in the wall. The wall.. Was strange. Peeling cream colored wallpaper, covered in cracks. There were no windows, the only light came from a dusty lamp sitting in a corner, casting a dull yellow light out into the room. The floor was dark hardwood, and there was a coat of dust on it about a centimeter thick. Deciding that whether I was dead or alive, I should look around, I stood up.