One More Chance In Last Life
Another View of Last Life
Ah, this beer. I can’t quite put my finger on it but I feel a little bit stronger. So many relied on these DNA-enhanced brewskis back in the day to give them a boost. Me, I merely drank them for the love of the taste. It always gave me something pleasant to think about.
Immortality is overrated.
I wouldn’t want to keep on living. Unfinished business? Sure. But why stir up old wounds?
Time can make you bitter and look at things from a different perspective. It is said to heal all wounds but I dare to disagree with such a romanticized phrase. The conceivers of such a thought hadn’t the slightest inkling of what lies beyond the realms of tragedy and loss. They do not understand how it feels to lose all you treasured in an instant.
To be so close to success that you could taste it.
It was eleven years ago they murdered me. Who are they? I don’t even know myself. I do not remember much from the last time I was walking around and about in a living body except that I was on the verge of something huge though I do not recall what.
Back then, I was the kind of man that got things done, no matter the cost. My only interest was uncovering the truth and I wasn’t going to stop until I knew what was going on.
Jack Parker, the great private investigator of Marstopia.
I remember something was going horrible wrong back then. Life on mars was nothing like it used to be and people were changing left and right. Everything, Marstopia, society, myself, we were slowly turning into something different and destructive. Robots were acting out of the ordinary and their artificial intelligence didn’t seem to be programmed correctly. People turning against each other and stabbing each other in the back.
Thinking about it a bit more, a part of me doesn’t miss it as much.
Since then, the entire planet has gone downhill and the majority of the population has decreased. Roughly a million people still live on this planet now.
Here I am, a 3D printed, plastic rendered ghost of the man I used to be and I have four hours to miraculously piece together the very reason I died that day. Everything was designed to mimic my old self, heck, even the thinking style is mirrored. But I’m merely a plastic shell with ambition.
It’s a Dead Man’s Party. I’ve been resurrected for four hours to enjoy life again but it feels like a sick joke. But I have a different plan in mind.
I want to know why they killed me.
For the price of blood, it sounds more suspicious every minute.
Misty here seems to be the only one who understands. The woman who lost everything and knows all about the current state of Marstopia. The only friend I have..
If I am going to figure this out, she’s a great place to start.
You can check out other editions of Julies’ “Another View” column right here.
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[author image=”http://cliqist.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/01/julie.jpg” ]Julie Morley is a freelance writer and comic artist from Spring, Texas. She attended the Academy of Art University for two years, studying Animation and Illustration. Whilst here, she learned about writing comic scripts, storyboards, and general storytelling. Since leaving college, she has been working on personal comic projects, stories, and illustrations. She aspires to release a self published comic within two years. For the majority of her life, she has been playing console games, typically being third-person shooters and sandboxes. Her favorite game of existence is Dark Cloud II (Dark Chronicle) and her favorite Indie game is Gone Home.[/author]