Taking Lives

“The reason people think it’s not easy to take a life” - the stranger’s words cut through the silence so unexpectedly that it made Kira flinch - “is because most of them don’t realize they’ve already taken one.” His voice was calm, collected, and could've been soothing. Her eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness, revealing a man in his fifties standing over her. Well dressed, neat. Absolutely nothing threatening about him, everything terrifying about the situation. She just came to, tied and gagged in a dark wooden shed. Last thing she remembered was her evening jog through the woods.

“People romanticize the concept of reincarnation” - the man continued. “They misunderstand it as a dignified, peaceful ascension of the soul into the afterlife and its resurfacing as a whole new person. Ebb and flow of life and death.” He chuckled. “Quite a comforting thought, to those who subscribe to this belief. Entirely wrong. That’s just not how it’s done.”

Kira heard the man’s words, but could not focus on their meaning over the feeling of overpowering panic. But then, over the sound of blood pulsing in her ears, she heard a distant call of police sirens. She latched onto the sound. Help was coming.

“There are roughly eight billion people living in this world, currently” - he continued not noticing or ignoring the sirens. “That’s eight billion bodies. But in the history of our world there were around one hundred and ten billion more people who were born, lived, and died. Now imagine every new body comes with a soul that is released as it dies. That’s a lot of souls. Not a lot of readily available bodies. Reincarnation. Re - back. In - into. Carne - flesh. Back into flesh. So what if the flesh is occupied? Ripping a newly formed soul from the mothers womb is all too easy for a seasoned spirit. They’ll remember nothing by the time of birth. Then it’s going through the motions, making the best, or the worst, or - in most cases - the numbingly mediocre of their time on Earth. And then they will grow old, die, and slowly vacate the decaying flesh. Usually.”

The man was rambling. The sirens were so close now, that he had to raise his voice. Still, he didn't acknowledge them approaching.

“It was different for me. Somehow, I remembered. I knew I’ve taken a life that didn’t belong to me in the first place. Then I discovered I didn’t have to die at all and compete with all the others. I could take a life whenever I chose to. Like this one, Gregory Dillinger, successful stock broker at the age of thirty two. That’s when I took him. I’ve been him for twenty two years. But now there’s that cancer thing. Time to jump ships. I thought I could do with someone fit and beautiful this time around. Money will come easy, it usually does.”

The sirens have stopped just outside and were replaced by the sound of footsteps circling the shack. “In a moment the police will come rushing through the door, and see Gregory standing over a kidnapped young woman holding a… oh, yes.” he reached behind his back and produced a bowie knife. He held it to Kira’s throat. She curled up in herself. “Holding a knife. Someone will shoot. She will be saved. She will witness her kidnaper’s violent death. She will be traumatized, which will make it easy to explain her drastic change in behavior, and even personality. She will tell her family that she needs to move away to be able to continue her life.”

The steps were just outside. “It’s time for our switcheroo, my dear. Before you go - try to remember everything I told you. Consider it a gift” - there was a glimmer of light in the man’s left eye, as his stare was fixed on Kira’s eyes. It grew, illuminating his face, turning into a short blinding flash.

Kira was looking at her own tied up body. She was holding a knife in a hand she didn’t recognize as her own. The door came crashing down, and she turned abruptly to face it. “Knife!” - she heard someone yelling. There was another flash, this time accompanied by a loud bang.