Prologue
Meet Terry

I'll be the first to admit that I'm not a perfect person. I have a rather twisted personality and I can be vindictive, resentful, and altogether a wrathful and unforgiving soul. My views on morality are skewed at best. At worst I am a borderline sociopath with little to no sympathy for the plight of others. That being said, at least I was better than the piece of human excrement sitting beside me in court today.

Charles Humphries Junior, or CJ as he preferred to be called, was a real piece of work. He easily encompassed everything that I disliked about the upper class: spoiled, cowardly, and obnoxiously full of himself in spite of having nothing to boast about that wasn't coasting on the coattails of his father's political accomplishments. His one redeeming quality was that he was a salesman at heart, silver-tongued and outwardly charming as they come. It was too bad he failed to properly utilize his talents by spending more time with his fraternity brothers throwing house parties than in the classroom. Perhaps had he spent more time in class, he may have learned a thing or two about dealing narcotics without being caught. Rule number one of being a drug dealer: Don't partake of your own stash. Rule number two should've been: Don't deal with rapists. It was only a matter of time before he was also implicated in their crimes and accused of assaulting those girls as well.

There were three of them. All of them minors. Each one drugged and raped by multiple assailants. And, of course, he was guilty. I knew it. He knew it. His Senator father knew it too.

You might be wondering how I could possibly defend someone who I knew as guilty? I suppose for the average individual it would be quite the moral dilemma...however if you want to be a great lawyer, or at the very least a competent one, you had to let go of such ideas of morality. As long as I was being paid, it didn't matter to me whether or not my client was guilty. If a client stood accused of killing my own father, I wouldn't have cared any more than I do now. Why? Because I'm a professional. And besides, the man would've deserved it. Whether or not this makes me a good person is debatable. I'm sure to many I'm wholly detestable. Yet I personally never espouse to the idea that you're an evil person if you ignore people doing evil things. If anything you're simply inactive, a third-party observer, a conscientious objector. Do you punish people who merely watch terrible things on the news and do nothing to stop them? Of course not. So why condemn a lawyer for doing their job—let alone doing their job well?

Waiting for the jury's verdict was nothing more than a formality. The evidence convicting CJ of any of the assault crimes was circumstantial at best. He was smart enough to know how to use a condom. And the girls were too incapacitated to identify him. He was only implicated at all because a witness saw him dealing at the party that the three girls had crashed. But without any clear testimony from any of the girls and none of his fraternity brothers' contradicting stories, no one could place him with them at the time when the assault took place. Only the sixty-second video clip of the assaults placed CJ at the scene and that clip was deleted—I made sure of it.

In order to climb to the top, there had to be a few innocent bystanders as casualties. This case was a means to an end. Nothing more, nothing less. The goal, of course, being appointed to partner at the largest and influential law firm in the country. In time, I would get there and then it would be a straight shot from there to Attorney General, then the Supreme Court.

I knew better than to think that it would be that easy. But it was a step in the right direction. The verdict on the assault charges came back as I predicted, however, because CJ was only found with small amounts of heroin, and this was only his first offense, he able to scrape by with a conditional discharge. Not everyone was happy with that decision.

"This is outrageous!" A young man jumped up from the prosecutor's side. I recognized his mop of brown shaggy hair and freckled complexion. It was the brother of one of the victims, Stacy Meyers. His name was Stephen or Steven—or maybe Stewart? "He did it! He did it!"

"Young man! I will not have you creating a scene in my courtroom. Contain yourself or I'll have you held in contempt," The judge boomed back.

Beside him, his sister, a frail timid little thing, put her hands on his arm. "Steven quiet," she said. "You're not helping anything." He looked at her again then at the judge before grudgingly taking his seat again.

Good. Listen to your sister boy. She's the smart one here. The judge banged his gavel, dismissing the court. Charles Humphries Senior looked somewhat displeased when CJ stood up from his seat. "Hopefully this experience has taught you something," he said.

"It has…"

"Good."

The Senator was far too lenient. It was bound to bite him in the ass during his reelection. "Thank you for all your hard work." He addressed me now and I nodded.

"Of course, Senator Humphries. It's my job."

We shook hands; first, the father, then the son and they left soon after. I proceeded to gather up all my materials. It was good it was over and done with. I was growing bored with this case and these people. But now I had a state senator who owed me a favor. Favors were such useful things. More so than money. A favor from the right person at the right time had the power to tilt the scales to your advantage.

As I left, Steven Meyers was staring at me, his expression contemptuous. Hopefully, he doesn't do anything reckless. Most people would behave rationally in this scenario—most people, but not all. Rationalism and pragmatism are not the only things that drive human action. At our core, we are all still beasts—slaves to our baser instincts—without care for logic. No matter how much we believe we've modernized, no matter what social constructs we pledge to live by, humans will continue to prioritize emotion over logic. When a human being is overcome with hatred they'll say things, do things, without any concern for self-interest of reason regardless of what they might stand to gain or lose. I saw that hatred in his eyes. There was no doubting it, he blamed me.

Like I said before, I am a heartless bastard. No doubt about it. Love me or hate me, the only thing that matters is that I win.

Should've known better…

Steven was the type of person who acts on his emotions and takes revenge. Two months later, while awaiting the light rail that would take me back home, Steven—the impulsive child— shoved me off the platform.

His face looked as it did then—twisted, distorted into something animalistic, his hatred turning him rabid. I couldn't look away. The image was so visceral that the moment before I hit the tracks seemed to stretch for an eternity. They say when you die your life flashes before your eyes. That's a lie. When you're in your final moments, there is no light at the end of the tunnel, there is only you—frozen, suspended at that moment, falling to your death.

"This is getting very tiresome."

Who said that?

I looked away boy's face to the light rail operator. Through the glass of the windshield, his face was somber and expressionless. Were his lips moving or did I imagine it?

"Humans think they're all-knowing but they've lost sight of what's right and what's wrong."

No, I'm certain didn't imagine it.

"They think the laws of the universe don't apply to them."

What is this man prattling on about?

"Humans no longer empathize with others and they've renounced their faith in their mighty creator."

A creator? This is a bad joke, right?

"This is no joke," the light rail operator glowered at me.

You're asking me to believe that not only is god a real entity but that he also happened to stop time at the moment before my death in order to speak to me through a balding, overweight, middle-aged light rail operator?

"That's correct."

Bullshit. This is some kind of near-death hallucination. I'm an atheist. I don't believe in God. I believe in logic and reason. Besides, why should I trust you? Aren't God and the devil supposed to inhabit the spiritual world? Hypothetically, if a god did exist I doubt he'd do anything this absurd to get a point across. So you must be someone else…

"Like the devil?"

Or perhaps something similar. I caught sight of the man's name tag. "I think I'll call you Terry."

"You really don't want to believe? Even when a miracle is happening right in front of your eyes?"

This isn't the time to lecture me on my lack of faith. Besides, I'm a bureaucrat—if you wanted to get my attention, you should've filed a subpoena. Perhaps then I would've taken you more seriously.

Terry's eyes narrowed. "As the being that controls the cycle of reincarnation, there are firm rules I abide by. However, I'll make an exception for you."

Wait. Hold on. Did you say reincarnation? You mean after we die, we're born again?

"That's no longer your concern," Terry said.

No—wait! Are you not familiar with the principle of full disclosure? Also if you're really a god, shouldn't you hold to your own rules and avoid heat-of-the-moment decisions?

"I manage over seven billion people on this planet," Terry sighed. "I'm completely overworked as it is. Honestly, reincarnating people without any faith is a waste of my time."

I hate to tell you this but being overworked is a sign of a flawed business model. You've failed to sufficiently analyze your clients' needs. Of course, there is no faith in a world full of advanced science where almost everyone's core needs are met. Here you only matter to the weak and desperate who look to someone to cling to when times get hard. An individual like me would never need you.

Terry hummed introspectively. "So you're saying you have no faith because of the world you are in, all your needs are met here through technology, you have a high social class, and you've never been put in dire straights?"

Umm...well, technically—But hold on, I think you're getting the wrong idea—

"What if I put you in dire straights? Do you think then your faith in me will be awakened?"

I don't like where this is going—Hold on! Let's not be hasty now. I don't want to break any rules about reincarnation or whatever you said.

"Try to survive as long as you can."

Wait!

"If you die again—"

Nonononono—

"—There will be no further reincarnations for you—"

Wait! Wait! I said—

"Good luck."

No!