A Thousand Lifetimes by Matthew S. Cox

Author:Matthew S. Cox [Cox, Matthew S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Science Fiction, Collections & Anthologies, Apocalyptic & Post-Apocalyptic, Cyberpunk, Horror, Fantasy, Epic
ISBN: 9781701163041
Google: bMK3DwAAQBAJ
Amazon: B07ZBP7VCQ
Goodreads: 48556488
Publisher: Division Zero Press
Published: 2019-10-18T05:00:00+00:00

“124! Are you kidding me?! I’m 117 tops!”

I’m not that heavy. And for another thing, I’m not dead!

But I’m… in a morgue.

Panic hits me hard, and reality becomes a blur of kicking and pounding on the walls while screaming. Eventually, I wind up on my side, staring up at the head end of the chamber, now covered in scratches. The sight of the marks makes me shudder. I’m trapped in a place so confining it could cause legit insanity and I’ve already scratched the walls.

Wait…

I scratched the walls?

Dumbfounded, I stare at the pale lines etched into the metal, unable to come up with any explanation for why my fingernails aren’t a bloody mess. Also, the body bag that had been around me is in shreds. The worst part is I’m pretty sure the end above my head is a solid wall. Don’t they usually load people in these things headfirst? But there’s no possible way I can turn around to get my hands anywhere near the door at the foot end. I’ve never felt so helpless and trapped before.

I roll again onto my back and shut my eyes so I stop seeing this tiny little cage.

My breaths come in rapid, panting gasps, but I can’t shake the suffocating confinement. Throbbing pain from my hands and feet seeps into my awareness. Guess I really pounded on the walls, but I don’t remember doing it. Ow. I think I broke my pinky finger. Never had anxiety issues before―if you don’t count public speaking―but I’ve also never been locked in a body cooler either.

“I’m dreaming. I have to be dreaming.” I start counting to ten, but stop at six when the pain fades away. A quick examination of my hands shows no bruising or broken fingers. Out of contempt for what’s on it, I snap the bracelet off. “I’m not that heavy.”

This is a dream. It has to be. If I was in a body cooler, it would be cold―and I’m not cold.

Also, those things don’t have lights inside, right? Not like dead people have to see. So this can’t be real or I wouldn’t be able to see anything, much less read the ridiculous identity bracelet. 124 pounds my ass. Speaking of seeing…

I roll onto my side and give myself a quick once-over. Other than naked, I appear to be fine. No wounds, no blood, not even any marks.

“This makes no sense. Wake up, dammit!”

My breathing echoes within the little prison while my brain goes in circles trying to understand. Did someone kidnap me? Am I being held prisoner by some sick, twisted creep who’s maybe watching me right now on a digital camera? I roll flat again and glare at the ceiling. Cause of death: homicide? Bullshit. Someone’s lying. I wasn’t anywhere dangerous. I was…

Blank.

I can remember my name, my parents, my siblings, home, friends… but other than a strong feeling of anger and betrayal, I can’t picture anything from the past, like, day or so. I remember catching my asshole boyfriend Scott cheating on me, but he doesn’t know I saw him with Bree Swanson.

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