The winter was still in its peak strength, despite the fact that it was already the second half of January. A young teenager, not yet a man, could be seen strolling the streets of Chicago, dressed in a black t-shirt and maroon colored sweatpants with a bag leisurely thrown over his left shoulders filled with books.
The short black-haired boy was absorbed with his phone, continuously scrolling through his social feed. Looking through his feed, the boy, Spencer Alexander Omen frowned.
"Damn, the release of the new Justice League comic is still more than a week away!"
Spencer could briefly be described as a 17-year-old teenage geek originated from Russia. Shortly after he was born, his parents decided to try their luck in the "Land of Dreams" and migrated here.
The sudden and aggressive shout of a man broke Spencer from his reverie.
"Hey!! What the fuck man?!"
Spencer was startled, his eyes beginning to sweep his surroundings in an attempt to locate the source of the voice he had just heard.
Promptly, he came to see two grown men arguing in front of a general store in a nearby corner.
"Watch where you are going four-eyes!" The origin of the voice, a young man donned in an expensive-looking suit shouted at a slightly older, middle-aged bloke.
The spectacled individual in the argument, who was wearing a checkered shirt and denim trousers turned red with rage.
"Why don't you learn to walk without being such a retarded fucking idiot?" He cursed in his fit of rage.
As they were arguing, Spencer urgently began using his phone to record the entirety of the event on his phone, attempting to capture the scene.
The pointless bickering of the two men soon escalated into a full-on fistfight, both grown men exchanging blows, trying to knock the other out with all they could.
Spencer was recording all of this from the sidelines, he saw as the situation escalated from simple bickering to both men giving their all trying to outdo and kill the other.
The event started drawing a lot of attention to the area and people began to gather to see what was happening. Soon a large crowd formed, creating a circle of people as the two continued their makeshift street fight.
"This is getting out of hand…" Spencer mumbled to himself noticing the commotion.
Spencer continued to watch the two men, hoping they would tire themselves out.
That soon seemed to be the case, until Suddenly.
The man with the expensive suit, the guy who started this whole conflict took a step back and reached into his back pocket.
Seeing this, Spencer felt a sudden chill coursing through his back, he had a bad feeling about what was about to come next.
Cooperative to his belief, the guy pulled out his hand from his back pocket, revealing a handgun, which was now pointed towards the middle-aged men in front of him.
"What now fuckface?! Not so tough are you?!" he taunted obviously enjoying the moment.
Spencer froze, despite the gun not facing in his direction, he still had a sinking feeling that something terrible is about to happen.
He had never seen a gun before in real life. Video Games can never compare to the real thing. The feeling of danger that this small piece of metal radiates… He felt scared for his life at that moment.
"KYAAAAAAAAH!!!" The sound of a woman screaming could be heard at that moment.
The man startled by the scream flinched, the middle-aged bloke noticing this jumped at him trying to remove his gun.
Both men fought over the weapon, trying to get hold of the situation.
The gun went off when one of the men accidentally pulled the trigger. Everyone crouched down in fright, trying to get away from the scene.
What everyone failed to notice was a person lying on the concrete bleeding out.
This person was none other than Spencer.
The stray bullet had pierced his chest, fragmenting as it entered his body.
The shards of the bullet had scattered to his heart and lungs, causing irreparable, catastrophic damage to his body.
"*Cough* *Cough* *Splatter*"
Spencer coughed violently as blood escaped his throat with every breath, his warm vital fluids splattering on the streets, painting it crimson.
"Is this it? Is this all I could do?!" Spencer cried out inwardly.
As these last thoughts left his mind, Spencer began to drift into the darkness, the light of life in his eyes growing dimmer and dimmer, his life flashing through his mind as he drifted into the darkness..
A singular tear could be seen sliding down the side of Spencer's face, he recalled his family, his sister, his mother, his father, it was all playing in his head like a record, amplifying the pain further. They would all be saddened by his death.
"This isn't fair…"
These were the last words that Spencer blurted out before the light in his eyes lost its luster and he finally passed on.
Spencer had quickly opened his eyes and gasped for air trying to get rid of the suffocating feeling he had.
Coughing as the air reached his lungs, it took him a while before he finally calmed down and started to breathe normally. Trying to recollect himself, he looked around.
"Where am I?"
Checking his surroundings, he saw nothing but white, and that he was currently as bare as the back of his hand. His youthful apples were as shiny as the white walls.
Touching his chest he exclaimed, startled by the lack of injury.
The wound that caused the fatal injury was gone without a trace. There was no trace, no reminder of his premature demise.
He was perplexed by his current situation, he should be dead, but here he is standing in an all-white room, completely in the nude and confused.
Deep in his thoughts trying to wrap his head around the situation, a majestic voice resounded around him, penetrating the cloud of thoughts that he shielded himself with.
"Welcome to my humble abode, Little Spark!"