Death is Not The End

The death Maxwell Remus is one that many will never forget. He might have been a small and not well-known person but his life is not important. After his life and after his death is what is most important about this man.


1. Maxwell Remus

          Maxwell Remus, just a name with no face. A person with no importance what-so-ever has now just had his name published for a few days. He was no one until his big day, which was yesterday. He is no the oldest man alive topping the record with 180 years to his name. But he hides a secret he is a witch and has been making himself look younger while he grows older. A few old spells and now he gets his 25-year-old face on the front of NY Post. The only witch in the family his coven says. He is the only one that was strong enough to cast the time reversal spell without dying. But each time he does it drains him a bit more until now when he dies he can't-do a thing about it. He will just have to let it happen. 

          A camera flash in front of his eyes brings him back to the fact that he was the center of attention for years after he dies. "Where was I?" He asked the lager crowd in front of himself. They all started talking at once and tried to get closer to him. It was as hot as it could be off the coast of New York. Not to mention all of the bodies around him. It was like being an egg on the sidewalk in 100-degree heat. It just wasn't going to stay. Maxwell tries to stand straight but feels his knees weaken and the world start to spin too fast and fading to darkness. He didn't even feel it when his body had hit the ground like a bag of rocks.


          Tossing his head this way and that he tries to shut his eyes tighter to keep the light out. It had been the best rest of his life. A slow beeping sound made him open his eyes slowly. It seems he had made his way back into the hospital. The one place he had dreaded the most since he was a child. He had always been in and out of this place and now to see that he was back was not something he liked. It was the reason he had cast the spells he did, just so he could keep out of this place. A straight pounding in his head and the smell of death all around him he hated being in the sterilized rooms. Sitting up a nurse came in and quickly rushed to his side to urge him to lye back down. He pushed her aside and tried to muster his power to call a healing chant to himself. He felt the cords of magic detach from himself and he fell back on the bed. He looked at the ceiling and muttered, "It's gone...why is it gone? I was sure I had more left." The nurse looked at him puzzled before she walked out of the room and came back with a sedative to clam him. He didn't try to fight her he didn't move when he felt the edge of sleep tapping at his eyes. Closing them and knowing that he was in trouble.

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