It was all a haze...
I found myself moving along a path; a path filled with sharp, pointy stones that brought pain to my bare-feet as I walked on them. Thorns pierced the soles of my feet, but I could not bleed. And no matter how much pain I felt, I could never stop moving. It was as though I had been programmed to keep going no matter what.
It took me a while to realize that I was not alone on this path. I was walking in a straight line with the souls of other people who had died. They remained stoic, without thoughts or emotion... their former lives, long forgotten.
The sky above us was a dull, reddish-blue color. The trees along the path were bigger than a normal-sized tree. Time seemed different in a place like this, very different.
At the end of the road, we arrived at a station
