This fic is strange, I'll tell you that now. It was written by me about a year ago, got deleted with all my stuff and now I'm giving it a go at rewriting it. It still sucks and is rather shoddy – but I don't believe I've seen it done before – correct me if I'm wrong.

By Orin.

It occurred to me around the same time my head smashed against the barricade that life does not always go according to plan.

That – and I was screwed.

For one thing, I hadn't exactly planned on the mind numbing pain that followed my head playing ping-pong with the wall, for another I hadn't planned on how to deal with that pain, or the fact that I couldn't see straight. No surprise, considering there was blood running down my face. But that wasn't what was blocking my vision. Nope. It was something else entirely.

See, I may be Sonic the hedgehog, but having your head smacked up against a very hard, very unmovable, very, very solid object at the speed of a small missile is bound to slow down even me. A little.

Okay, so, a lot.

Imminent death has a way of doing that to you.

I couldn't stand properly, couldn't see straight, and there was the strange feeling in my stomach that made me really regret eating that last chilli-dog before this mission. Really. I was either gonna throw up, or faint.

Considering the pain though, I reasoned that fainting was probably better. Not to mention it would take less effort on my part. That was okay then, because everything was getting darker anyway, and I couldn't really be sure anymore if it was just the blood or the throbbing in my head that was making everything red, hazy and distinctly blurry in outline.

I had the mother of all headaches.

Things began to fade, everything taking on a dreamlike quality. Y'know that instant where you're not quite awake after a good night's sleep? Like that. I was in a place where nothing seemed to matter so much. I really didn't care that I was down and out in Robotropolis and that I was injured – most definitely injured – or that Robotnik's I-beat-you-and-now-you're-royally-screwed laughter was blaring at me over one of the swat-bots video comm.-links…

Scratch that last part. Robotnik's laugh manages to irritate the Hell outta me, semi-conscious or otherwise.

I even managed to muster up a little indignation. Enough to pry one eye open anyway. I gave the bot a glare. Not one of my better ones, considering that I was on the ground in a bloody heap and this guy was not. Of course, ole' Robo-butt could see this too, via that link up, and it only made him laugh even harder.

Yeah, we all know that guy runs on sadistic, but can we say overkill? There has to be a better for him to get his jollies– not to mention safer for me.

Killing me would not solve anything. And it sucked as well, at least from my point of view; Robotnik seemed to think it was hilarious.

He also seemed to think it was a good idea.

It's funny, if you take a look at all those old tragedies written by that famous human guy. The weird one… Shakespeare?

Well, take a look, and you're bound to notice that whenever a character is facing their imminent demise they tend to have very deep, very complex, very quotable thoughts. Thoughts that pertain to the innermost nature of life around them, that strip away all the lies and falsities of everyday life, and leave only the pure unadulterated truth.

Wanna know what I was thinking?

Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap!

Because, of course, I'm not a Shakespearean character. I was a perfectly healthy hedgehog- at least pertaining to the head bashing. And I was about to face a squadron of SWAT-Bots who had orders from their Master to kill on sight. Really big, really strong robots. Totting really big, really powerful guns. Hence the lack of "thee", "thou" and "a plague on both your houses" anywhere in my thoughts. In fact, besides 'crap' all I could come up with really was –

Oh man. I am so freakin' dead.

And, you know something? I was right. 'Course, it wouldn't be the first time. Though in retrospect I really would have preferred to be proven wrong.

And you know something else? Even though I'm dead… Life still sucks.

The funny thing is, I can't actually remember how it felt to die. And I know that sounds pretty lame, considering it's a life-altering event. Or life-ending. It changes you in a way no one can imagine, or even understand, and definitely in a way that no one can change. Death is dead, and dead means no coming back.

Bearing in mind that my motto is 'never say die' that's like showing me a chilli-dog then saying – don't eat.

In other words, I wasn't exactly thrilled about the fact that I was someone you would consider past tense. I lived life, because I understood that there's only an instant that stands between one heartbeat and the next, and that it only takes an instant for that heartbeat to stop. Forever.

I'd seen too many people Robotosized and killed to stand on the sidelines when it came to living. So, I was a goof, reckless, and probably what a lot of people would consider wild. But at least I lived. And had a Hell of a time in doing so. Even if eighty-percent of that time was spent fighting.

I didn't mind the fighting, as long as I managed to come home in one piece. Or didn't die.

Which was another reason I wasn't perfectly fine with the whole 'going out like a hero' thing. See, I still have things to do, and if I'm dead, then obviously, it means that they're not gonna' get done. At least by me. Maybe someone else will manage to bring Lard-butt down. But I doubt it. And besides, it's personal now.

I want revenge.

He killed me, and I wanna kill him back.

Yeah, I know, but vengeance is wrong and whatnot…

Screw that.

I've just been killed; I reserve the right to be royally ticked off. I want to see him go down. I wanna be the one to take him down. And if not, then I at least want to help out those who do and maybe get a piece of the action in the process. I deserve that.

Only, it's gonna be kinda hard, considering I'm a ghost…

*****

To Be Continued…

*****

I told you this was weird. This is just a prologue of sorts, since I don't know what peoples reaction will be. If any, so I'm not sure if it's worth continuing or not. ^_^

Sonic; "I don't believe it."

Orin; ¬____¬ "Y'know, I was wondering when you'd show up."

Sonic. "How could I not, taking into account the fact that you've finally gone one better than just torturing me?"

Orin; "I makes for an interesting read."

Sonic; ¬_¬"You killed me."

Orin; "Um… Yeah? And?"

Sonic; ¬_¬ "At the beginning of the fic."

Orin; "Uh-huh. Your point being?"

Sonic; "Who'd want to read a fic where I'm dead at the beginning?"

Orin; O__o "Uhhh…"

Sonic; "Isn't that an anti-climax or something…?"

Orin; O___o "…..."

Sonic; "…?"

Orin; "Crap!"

Sonic; *Wanders off looking happy* ^________^

Anyway… I'm pleased enough with this fic – though not so that I don't think it could be better with more time. But I'm out of that right now. Back to University. Break's over… But, guess what? Winterheart is ready to be posted.

Will do, tomorrow night. Must. Sleep. Now… G'night!

*Huggles & Take Care*

Orin.