The Mysterious Man

Pain.

So, Painful.

It hurts so much !

It was all I knew.

It wasn't the kind of pain that dulled over time, that a man could grit his teeth and endure.

No, this was torment in its purest form—unrelenting, ceaseless, and infinite. My skull felt as if it were being split apart by a rusted blade, jagged and merciless.

My skin—if I still had any—was being flayed by invisible hands, layer by layer, until only raw, exposed agony remained.

I wanted to scream.

But I had no voice.

I wanted to fight.

But I had no body.

I wanted to exist.

But in this void, even that was being stripped away.

Falling endlessly.

I had been falling for so long that time had lost all meaning. I no longer knew where I was, nor did I know where I was going. Was this the end? Was this death?

Was this my punishment?

What did I ever do to someone?

At first, there had been a faint light above me. Hope.

But it had dimmed, swallowed by the abyss, leaving me alone in the dark.

Where am I?

Am I not dead yet?

Why am I still conscious?

Where are my children?

Questions formed, but the void had no answers—only silence, only suffering.

Was this all that awaited a man after death? No peace, no final rest, just… emptiness?

Perhaps that was fair. I had spent my life enduring hardship, pushing forward with broken hands and a shattered soul. I had thought, foolishly, that death would be my release. That I had earned peace.

But no.

Even in death, I was denied rest.

Then—

A sound.

A whisper, faint and distant, like a breeze in the stillness.

Then, light.

A glow, purple and gentle, spreading through the darkness like ink in water.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the pain lessened. The knives digging into my mind withdrew, the fire in my skull simmered, and the weight of nothingness lifted just enough for me to remember who I was.

"Relax, my friend."

The voice was calm, smooth—almost amused.

Before I could resist, I found myself drifting toward the light, helpless against its pull.

"Come, friend. I've been waiting for you… for a long time. So, how was your life on Earth? Pretty shitty, right?"

I stilled.

Of all the things I had expected from the afterlife, sarcasm was not one of them.

My eyes twitched.

Who the hell is this guy?

I tried to speak, but my throat still refused to obey.

"Oh, don't strain yourself. You won't be talking anytime soon, little friend," the voice chuckled.

Little friend?

"Does i look like a little kid", I thought.

The flicker of irritation helped ground me. Who in their right mind calls a grown man 'little friend'?

However, In the eyes of the mysterious man ninety years are nothing more than a speck of dust lying at the bottom of the river, waiting for the flow to end it's life.

( River of time )

"Well, well, you can call me Mr. Oberoy.

I'm one of the fragments of… let's just say, a bigshot who oversees the upper worlds."

A god. Or something close.

I clenched my fists—only to remember I had no fists. What remained of me was barely a flicker of a soul, mist-like and fragile.

"Alright, where are my children?" My voice, when it finally returned, was hoarse and brittle.

"Ah, don't look so miserable," Oberoy sighed. "Your children are safe."

Relief and suspicion warred within me.

"You better not be lying."

"What would I gain by lying to a dead man?" Oberoy mused. "Now, let's focus on why you're here."

"I should be dead," I muttered.

"And yet, here you are."

"Then end it."

Silence.

I met his glowing violet eyes, my soul burning with the one desire I had left.

"I don't want a next life."

Oberoy tilted his head. "Oh?"

How did you know, I am going to give you an another chance?

"You sure are an intelligent guy", He laughed.

Before, He could say something, Zain interrupt him by saying,"I want to disappear. Completely. I don't want reincarnation, I don't want another chance—I just want oblivion".

"Erase me".

Oberoy sighed, almost disappointed.

"Ah, I see." He rubbed his chin. "You're clinging to your past. That's why you're suffering. Just let go, my friend. Forget about it. Forget everything—your pain, your struggles, your regrets. Let it all fade away, so you can embrace the next life properly."

My chest tightened.

"Forget?" I grasped.

"Yes. It'll be easier that way."

"How the hell am I supposed to forget?" I hissed.

"How do I forget my life? My parents, my friends, my love, my children? How do I forget the suffering, the pain?"

Oberoy hummed, his gaze unreadable. Then, with a small, knowing smile, he spoke:

"Pain and suffering are inevitable, my dear friend. And that is what makes life worth living."

My breath caught.

"What?" He exclaimed.

"Do you know what happens to those who escape suffering completely?"

Oberoy asked, voice softer now. "They become empty.

Hollow....

To be human is to endure, to struggle, to ache. The joy of a reunion, the warmth of love, the fire of ambition—all these things exist only because pain exists. If you erase your suffering, you erase yourself."

My fingers curled. "Then let me be erased."

Oberoy sighed again, shaking his head. "Ah, boy. So stubborn."

The next thing I knew, his fist slammed into my chest.

Pain erupted through me—sharp, electric, and overwhelming. My very soul shook.

My body—my body—was pulled toward something.

The next moment, I was no longer a formless mist.

I had limbs.

A heartbeat.

Breath.

I gasped, the sensation of lungs filling with air almost too much to handle. My hands clutched my chest, feeling the solid weight of my ribs beneath them.

I was alive.

Or something close to it.

Oberoy loomed over me, watching with a bemused expression. "There. Now, no more talk of erasing yourself. You have work to do."

I gritted my teeth. "I never agreed—"

"Oh, but you will."

His voice was warm, persuasive, like honey laced with venom.

"You will, because deep down, you want to exist. You need to. You've fought too long, too hard, to simply let go now. And if you truly wanted oblivion, you wouldn't be standing here."

"Don't you want to undo all of your mistakes?" He asked.

I trembled, fists clenching.

Damn him.

Damn this world.

Back then I just wanted to die each and every day. But I can't, i have to raise my children.

But now I am free from my shackles that used to bind me.

Why can't the world leave me alone?

Why?

I just want to die.

"You are so pitiful", Oberoy sighed, his eyes was cold as he looked at me.

"why am I so weak", I growled, my powerless fists clentched tightly.

Mr. Oberoy remains silent, as he is uneffected by my pitiful state.

I, I... I just wanted to live a happy life. What did I ever do to deserve this?

I wanted to see my parents grow old, watch them play with their grandchildren—but they were killed!

I wanted to be loved, to build a home with my love—but I lost her.

I wanted to enjoy old age with my friends—but they were killed because of me.

What did I ever do to anyone?

"Why?", Tears started to fall down from my cheeks as i remembered my parents, my love and my friends.

What did they do to deserve it?

After crying for so long, my eyes burned red as I struggled to suppress my emotions. Mr. Oberoy watched me, his expression shifting, his lips parting as if to speak—but I heard nothing

What would I gain if I agreed to reborn in another world?, I asked, my eyes staring at two purple glows.

"I can help you change your past and save your parents, your love, and your friends," he said, pausing for a moment before continuing. "But there is a huge price to pay for it."

His gaze held a mix of emotions as he asked, "Are you willing to pay... even if it means erasing your very existence?"

"I stumbled at his words", My whole body started to shake violently.

He can save my parents?

He can save my love?

"He can save my friends"? I murmured.

I looked at him, my soul torn between desire and fear. It was the offer of a lifetime—an impossible choice made real.

And yet, I couldn't deny it.

There was hope.

And hope, after all, was the most dangerous thing of all.