AN: This is actually the first DLM fanfic I've uploaded in quite some time (since my "Duty in the Park" story, which is also about Mason). I've had chapter one on my laptop for some time now and it's only been recently after reading two fanfics that made me realize I need to get around to actually doing the story. Funny story is, one of the two stories actually "started" out in the first three chapters with a similar premise (before going an opposite way) and I was disappointed for myself lol. Enough babbling, to the story now.

The great thing about being undead was one no longer worried about the ill-effects of something one might enjoy. But of course for Mason, that was never really an issue regardless. Not many people would seriously drill a hole in their head, let alone consider doing it. Being undead definitely had its advantages though.

"Pour me another one, barkeep," Mason called out with a palm slap against the bar.

"Don't you think you've had enough?" the bartender asked grinning.

"Save me the fucking PSA and pour," Mason replied.

The bartender nodded and poured. After he left to attend another customer, Mason looked around. A couple in the corner, a balding man on the opposite end of the bar, and the source of much of the smoke, three college-aged kids at a table.

Sliding a yellow post-it from his pocket that read:

S. Adams

ETD 9:32 pm

Steve's Bar and Grill

Mason glanced to his watch. 9:30 p.m. He glanced around the room once more. One of these people was an S. Adams but the problem was who? None of the three college kids—a David, a Drew, and a Kyra that he had picked up eavesdropping on their conversation—that's for sure. The Kyra was beautiful with her black hair touching her shoulders and her blue eyes watching her friends talk.

Of course, the name of the bar was a huge indiciation of who the S. Adams was.

"Would you happen to be Steve Adams?" Mason asked as the bartender walked by.

"That I would," Steve replied while cleaning a glass.

"Have you owned this place for long?"

"A couple of years," Steve replied. "About to have the place paid for and everything."

"What shitty luck."

"What?"

"Nothing," Mason replied. He glanced back at his watch. 9:31 pm and the second hand moving closer and closer to the next minute. "Congratulations."

Seconds later, 9:32 pm. Mason stuck his hand out to shake his hand when a masked man entered the bar.

"Everyone keep quiet!" the robber screamed. "Keep this simple and no one gets hurt!" The man pointed the gun at the bartender. "Hand over all the money!"

"Okay!" Steve said holding his hands up. He walked over to where he kept the money. Slowly reaching into the drawer, he started getting the money. Suddenly, a gun was in his hand.

Firing, the bartender hit the robber in the chest and the masked man went down bleeding.

"Someone call 911!" Steve yelled. Running over to the man, he pulled off the mask. Steve put a towel over the wound he had caused.

Mason pulled the mask off the man. As just a young teenager, man wasn't even appropriate. "What's your name?"

"S...S...Sheldon..."

Poor sap. Maybe in more ways than one. It was only too bad he couldn't do the reap before he had the gaping wound in his chest. Mason patted him on the shoulder withdrawing his soul in the process.

"911's being called," Mason said to cover himself. Of course would-be criminal Sheldon here would no longer be needing their services by the time they arrived.

Mason stood. While Steve tried to control the bleeding—even in self-defense one never really wants to have had to kill someone—Mason watched as Sheldon took his last breath.

"What...am...am I dead?" Sheldon, standing beside Mason, asked..

"As a doorknob," Mason replied.

"Hell." Sheldon sighed. "Can they see me?"

Mason shook his head. "No. Only me."

"Crap. I don't know what's going to be worse for my mother-that I'm dead or why I'm dead."

"That's life for you, I guess," Mason said.

"So now what?"

"You'll be moving on," Mason said, "once your lights come. Let's walk outside."

Mason patted him on the shoulder as they left.

"How do I see these lights?"

"You'll see them when you're read. Believe me."

"I hate to leave my mother."

"She'll make due. You'll see her again, if that's your concern." At least he assumed. He had no bloody idea otherwise.

The area lit up with a light only they could see.

"I think I see it," Sheldon replied. He paused for a moment. "It...wow. I think that's Disney World. I always wanted to go, but my parents couldn't afford it."

Mason smiled. "Then you're in luck, chap. Go for it."

Sheldon nodded. He walked into the light and entered the gate as the lights broke up into the sky. Left alone, Mason interlocked his hands, stretched his arms, and left.