A/N: Wow, reviews, neat. Thanks you made my day. Esspecially you,
Shychick. Ne, maybe the mistress of Sniv will even read this!
And here's chapter two! (I tend to update obsessivly.)

Disclaimer:Sonic the Hedgehog and company, as well as their nemisiis
are ownedby Sega as well as DiC and Archie comics. Were I to ever claim
them as my own not only would I have a big, fat, lawsuit to deal with
but also a large number of video game nuts with pitchforks and torches
and a small group of screaming, rabid fangirls with blunted sporks.

Chapter II.
"...God hates that."
Leviticus 18:22

For a moment he simply stared helplessly at the woman, then he
blinked, and upon seeing that she was not immediately removed from his
field of vision by this, decided that it most likely meant that yes, he
had finally gone insane. He promptly shifted onto his side and closed
his eyes, determined to ignore the hallucination.

"But I'm not," said a soft, female voice.

"Not what?" he demanded looking up, his resolve having crumbled
utterly at the sound of the first voice he had heard since his death.
Of course, he was probably imaging the voice as well...

"A hallucination. I'm not one."

"Oh."

She was pretty enough, but, since she was still probably
a figment of his imagination this was hardly surprising. She had a
creamy skin tone, dotted with freckles, and waist length mud brown hair
and, odd, rubber-ducky yellow eyes. She would have been a bit taller
than him if they were both standing, which neither of them were. She
looked to be about in her late teens, or possibly early twenties.
He had always been a bad judge of age.

"Don't you want to know who I am then?"

"No, not really," he answered tiredly.

"Why not?" she demanded, sounding more than a bit put out.

"Because, my dear, you simply don't exist."

He supposed that since he was mad now he'd have to get used to this
sort of thing; imaginary people popping in and out, pretending that
they were real. Or maybe they really did think they were real. Could
one tell if one was a figment of someone's imagination? Probably not.
In fact it was even possible that HE was a figment of someone's
imagination. He tried to think of anyone he knew of with a diseased
enough psyche to invent him. He couldn't. Well then, he must have made
himself up, mustn't he? Probably that was a symptom of his madness,
inventing himself.

So here he was dead, insane and a figment of his own imagination. He
looked up at the female figment who had her imaginary arms crossed in
a very good imitation of annoyance and indignation. Did unreal people
have real feelings? Probably best to assume that they did and humor
the woman.

He sat up, pulling his blue turtleneck down from where it had bunched
around his chest. "Alright then, what are you, if not a bizarre dream
creature?"

The woman frowned more deeply. She probably didn't like being called
bizarre. He really ought to work on his social skills if he was going
to be associating with other figments.

"My name is Geheivia, author of life and death, bringer of trials and
redeemer of sins," she announced grandly.

"Ah, God then," he nodded appreciatively. "I knew a man who thought
he was god, once. Or maybe I didn't know him, I might have only
imagined it." He shrugged. "Either way I didn't like him very much."
That was a gross understatement, like saying the sun was a bit warm, or
that being shot at by a hundred expert marksmen was a little annoying.
In truth he had hated the man, hated him so much in fact that he'd
taken great pains to ensue his death, which, unfortunately had only
been a temporary accomplishment as he had been back worse than ever
several months later.

The woman, Geheivia, had an irritated look on her face, as though
things were not going at all how she'd planned them.

"I suppose that I am a god in a way," she admitted, accepting for the
moment it seemed, his point of view.

"Alright then. I won't bother asking you to do something godly, I'm
afraid I don't have any water around for you to walk on, or turn into
wine." He didn't believe in God of course, but he believed in insanity
for what it was worth. "Out of purely morbid curiosity, is this Hell?
It doesn't seem very traditional if it is. Or, is some illogical twist
of fate is it heaven and I'm the only one who made it?" He giggled
madly. "You must be some god if you think I belong in heaven."

Geheivia grimaced. "It is neither heaven, nor hell. It is your own
private purgatory dredged up from the bowels of your skewed world view.

He blinked. Purgatory hadn't even occurred to him. He replied in a
sarcastic tone of voice "That would certainly explain the lack of
anyone else in it, wouldn't it? Except you, God, what are you doing
here? Do you pay house calls to dead madmen often?"

The woman's bath toy colored eyes flashed. "My name is Geheivia and
I am growing tired of your antics Colin Kintobar. You are dead, true,
but you are no more lacking in sanity than when you were living.
However if you continue in this vein you may very well drive the BOTH
of us to distraction!"

He ignored her. "What if I told you that I didn't believe in God?
Would you 'poof' out of existence?" He made a disappearing gesture
with his small, delicate hands. "Would I have to clap to bring you
back?" He snickered. "I do believe in fairies!"

The god looked very angry now and he supposed he shouldn't have
taunted her so much. There went his resolve to be nice to figments.
Geheivia was shaking with fury and he saw her fists clench.

"Don't hit me I'm sorry!" he yelped, cringing, his arms in front of
his face. When no blow came he opened one eye slightly and looked at
her. Oddly enough the gesture seemed to have diffused the woman's wrath
as it had failed to do so many times in his life. She still looked
quite irritated but the expression was mixed with another. Was it pity?
He wasn't sure, he hadn't seen much of it before, even from figments,
if indeed that was what Geheivia was.

"You try my patience," she said exasperated, as though her feelings
weren't obvious. "But I have come for a reason and I must convey it
to you."

"Yes?" he asked, mildly interested, and more than a bit confused.

"I have come to return you to life. To give you a second chance as
it were. But in return there is something you must do for me."

To be continued...

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