The first thing you will notice, a voice echoed from decades past, is that you notice everything.  

I sat on the couch in the dark. Moisture hung in the air, carrying spores from the mildew underneath the stairs. I ignored the sounds of life upstairs. Voices raised, the sound of anger filtered down towards me. I kept my eyes closed.  

Your senses will bombard you. At first you can deny them, the shock is so great, that you must! 

I took slow deep breaths. My fingers splayed across my face, yet I felt little of them. The mélange of scent they carried however sent me back in time. The scent of flesh blood and other fluids enveloped me with tendrils of memory. Flashes of bare skin sent ripples of hunger through me. My whole body carried the odours of his, with astounding lucidity. He was almost in the room with me.

Your mind will soon perceive the truths, and you will embrace what your senses tell you.  

His taste, a sharp delicatessen for my palette stayed with me even now. His warmth, enveloping me, flowing and pumping through me, constricted my insides as tangible traces faded beyond vivid memory.  

You are no longer truly alive... You have yet to die...  

That voice, soothing at times horrifying at others, struck a chord deep within me. I missed him—the one who chaperoned me into this anomalous existence. 

In this, your afterlife, “the only thing you have to lose is your soul.”

A loud thump sounded from upstairs, the reverberation spread through my apartment. My eyes snapped open, early morning already. 

I rose from the couch, completely naked. I walked into the bathroom and turned on the hot water. I managed to shut the door sealing myself away from the growing light in the rest of the apartment. 

I showered for as long as I could. My skin tingled, yet I felt no pain. The steam carried away the the remaining scents that clung to me. By the time the water turned icy, I was overcome with the fatigue.