End of Insomnia () - Gamaker

"Some people say the moment you die you see your life flashing before your eyes. Some say you see a bright light at the end of a tunnel. Others claim the universe unravels and that one instant you understand the meaning of life. There has been said that you can hear the voice of god. There is even supposed there is nothing but a vast blackness, a complete void. I can assure you that all of these statements are true, thought none are correct. I have asked a great many entities and all told me the same: The moment you die there is simply everything, yet nothing. A clearer explanation could not be given, but I believe it to be true. Unfortunately I cannot tell you this from first hand. When I died I was asleep."


I used to be an average person. I had a small apartment with one bedroom, one kitchen, one bathroom and a hallway. The walls were painted in soothing pastel colors as the trend used to be. In fact it was nothing more but a shelter against the rain and cold. It was located in an old run down building which was minimally maintained by an annoying landlady with an even more annoying cat. It was an average day that day, the day I woke up without ever falling asleep again.
I got out of bed and did my morning routine as usual. I went to work, which was an average company at which I had a simple desk job. The day was about as normal as it could get except that my best friend and colleague hadn't shown his face, didn't call in sick or returned any of my calls.
When I say best friend I am not referring to the one guy you would take a bullet for. In my adult life I had three groups of 'friends'. The guys at work with whom I got along better than the rest, the people at the bar I always went to and the few guys from collage I still met every other month. My best friend, who's name was Simon, belonged to all three those groups. This made him a 'better' friend than the rest, thus earned him the title best friend.
Eventually the workday ended without anything noteworthy and I went home. Back in my small apartment I ate the instant macaroni I brought from the convenience store, watched TV until it lost my interest and went to bed. Just as I was about to undress to get into bed I heard a familiar voice behind me.

'Good evening, Jonathan.' Simon said.
'Hi Mon, where did you come from?' I said while I turned around. There in the doorway to my bedroom stood Simon with crossed arms and a rather evil smile on his face. He was just looking at me.
'How did you get in? I was sure I locked the door.'
He simply smirked at me and didn't bother to answer. This made me quite irritated.
'What?'
Still no answer.
'I am not Simon Colt.' He said after a long silence.
'Right... you broke into my house just to tell me that? Go home! I want to go to bed.'
'Simon Colt is dead'
'I know, that's why you're a programmer now.'
This conversation was getting me more annoyed with each pointless comment. I stepped forward to make him turn around and push him to the door. But before I could reach he suddenly he pulled his shirt over his head which stopped my movement. In his chest was a large bloody hole where his heart should be. This shocked me a little as I never was any good with shock effects, but it only took me a second to regain my calm.
'That's quite a cut you've got there. You really should buy a smaller razor.'
'I am what you humans call a demon. I have killed Simon Wright and taken over his body.' He said in the same low monotone voice he had used since his appearance.
'Figures,' I thought. 'Simon never was much of 'survivor'.'
'I don't buy it.' I said.
'Why not?' He responded, finally deciding to take part of the same conversation I was having. This time he used a little intonation.
'You don't look like a demon.' I simply said.
'How do you suppose a demon should look?' He was starting to sound more and more like the Simon I used to know.
'Why are you talking normal now? You make yourself less convincing every second.'
'Because it takes time to get used to a new body.'
'Ah'
'Yes... Now how do you suppose a demon should look?'
'Well.'
I thought for a moment.
'Demons should have horns, yes, small horns. And wear a grey pinstriped suit with a red shirt and a black tie. And a matching hat and shoes.'
'That all?'
'Yes... NO, demons should also have black fingernails.'
'Black fingernails?'
'Yes'
'Right...' he sighed 'One gothic-goat-mobster-demon coming up! Close your eyes.'
'Why?'
'Because I say so.'
I considered this for a moment and decided to do as he said. I had nothing better to do. I waited for a few seconds. I heard nothing but my own breathing so I opened my eyes again to see if Simon hadn't run off with my TV. I saw Simon standing in the doorway with his arms crossed just like he was before. Only this time he had adjusted his appearance to my requests. He was now wearing a grey pinstriped suit with a red shirt, black tie and a matching hat and shoes. Out of his forehead were sticking two little horns just beneath his hat. He noticed I had opened my eyes again and without a word showed me his hands. All of his fingernails were black. I looked at him as a whole and was rather pleased with the results. He really did look like a demon now. However obscure the situation was, I was quite satisfied with myself.
'Like this?' He asked and gestured at himself.
I nodded resolute.
'Good.' He said and with that he vanished with a loud crack and a small puff of smoke.

'Like a demon ought to.' I said to myself and sat down on the bed.
If anything, this strange encounter left me wide awake and full of questions. Was Simon really murdered and possessed? Was he just pulling a prank on me? (If so, that was some very fancy make-up. How long would've cost it him to put on?) Was this just a hallucination? If he really was possessed, why did it come to me for no obvious reason? Why didn't it kill me just now? Too many questions spun around my head and I could answer none of them. There seemed to me only one way of finding answers and as I wasn't anywhere near sleepy I set off right away. Off to Mon's place!
Simon lived only a few blocks from my place, which was probably the only reason we went to the same bar. The weather outside was damp, grey and cold.
'Perfect night to be possessed' I thought and softly laughed to myself.
Simon's apartment was the same as mine only worse. It looked like a dusty attic, where you not only dump the furniture you don't need anymore but also your empty beer bottles and pizza boxes. It was not my favorite place to be but as circumstances left me no choice... I had no choice. On my walk over I thought of a way to force the door open other than simply kicking it in. None sprang to mind. Luckily when I came to the front door it was already open. My first thought was to close it and kick it in anyway. But just opening it seemed a little easier and less noisily. I had to refrain from needless actions until I knew what was going on. It still made me a little disappointed though.
When I came into the hall it seemed like the same mess it used to be so I started to look around. There was no use in calling his name. If he was dead he was dead and if not, he had snuck on me too so it would serve him right. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until I reached his bedroom. There I found Simon's bed soaked in blood where his heart lay on the uncovered mattress like it was planning to get out of bed.

'Well that, at least, answers a few of my questions.' I said to myself as I took a paper bag from my pocket. (I always carried a paper bag with me, you never know when you might need a paper bag.) I turned the bag inside out and poop-scooped the heart in.
'Lets give this back to the Demon when we meet again, it should belong to him now' I thought. Somewhere in my mind I questioned if this really was what I should be doing at that moment, but I ignored this and simply walked out and went home.

That night I couldn't get to sleep. The images of Simon with a cavity in his chest and the bloody heart kept appearing in my head. Not that it disturbed me; The whole affaire more or less intrigued me. Why did the demon posses Simon? Why did it come see me? Why make such an internal mess, while he can disappear with a puff of smoke? Hmm puff of smoke... These questions and more kept kicking me in the brain and before I knew it dawn already crept through my bedroom curtains.