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[b]S A M A R[/b]
[i]The Visaya Islands, Philippines[/i]

The boy lay on his back. He could feel the warmth of the sun on his face, the sand of the beach beneath his body, and breeze blowing across his skin. Staring up at the blue sky, he wasn't certain of how much time had passed. He felt cool water lapping against his feet, the sand beneath his legs growing moist as the tide started to come in. Fingers twitched at the tips of the outstretched arms, the boy's mouth working as though it were necessary for him to try and recall how to breathe. The chest rose and fell, the child's throat bobbing as he swallowed with the realization that his throat was dry. As the water rushed over the tops of his feet, drifting up along his legs, he finally sat up. Sand cascaded down from out of the shock of blond hair, trickling down over the narrow shoulders as the boy drew his knees up and sat upon the beach. He realized he was naked, but that wasn't unusual for children playing on the beach in this part of the world.

What [i]was[/i] unusual was the fact that he was [b]here[/b]. Flesh and blood, the warmth of the sun, or the cool ocean mist. This was the [b]mortal realm[/b]. This was Earth. [i]Home[/i], or, at least, he thought of it as home. That wasn't really true anymore though.

He had been here of course. After he had parted with Al, Chris had spent time in the Afterlife. But he'd come back. He'd tried to do right, to be like Al, but he wasn't. He wasn't Al Simmons. Still, Chris had decided it was well enough and good if he could help a few souls to escape the ravages of Heaven and Hell by helping them cross over and above the tedious and spiteful War in Heaven. And that was the last thing he remembered, being in the Afterlife. There had been a child in New Mexico. The victim of a family of abuse. It hadn't been pretty, and Christopher couldn't save her, but what he could do - what he [i]had done[/i] - was to make sure that she wasn't alone. 

He had taken her home.

And now he was... here? There had to be a reason. One thing Christopher had learned was that nothing about his life or death existed without a reason, though it would be helpful if there was a script or manual or something he could read to help him know just what it was he was supposed to do when randomly finding himself on a beach somewhere. The sound of children laughing caused the boy to look out across the waterline for the first time, witnessing small groups of girls and boys splashing in the ocean. Standing, the young Hellspawn provided for his own modesty as his very flesh seemed to [i]shift[/i] as though alive, changing form so that he was suddenly wearing a pair of black board shorts trimmed in red and white, with a skull icon on the left leg, and chains hanging from out of the pockets.

He'd picked a direction on a whim, strolling along the beach with neither purpose or cause. Just walking, one foot in front of the next, hands tucked into the pockets of his shorts as his mind wandered free of distraction. He thought about Al. He thought about the Green Lady. He thought about his mother, tried to recall her face, finding the memory clouded as though trying to see a reflection in a fogged over mirror. 

The boy came to a stop, at first uncertain as to why. A breeze tickled at his ear, carrying it on a whisper that sent a chill up his spine, as realization and recognition connected inside of his mind. [b]Death[/b].

Someone was dying. Someone close.

The young boy's eyes darted back along the waterline. A group of children were calling out, not in an excited way but in more of a panic. Even as he started toward the ocean, Chris knew that one of them had been pulled under the water and hadn't resurfaced. Dashing past one of the kids splashing in search for their friend, the young Hellspawn hit the surf as he allowed himself to let go of his tangible body and embrace his phantasmal nature. Gliding effortlessly through the currents, the Hellspawn found himself drawn to the sense of impending death, as he saw a young girl drifting in the water. Her body's struggles growing weak. Her panicked heart beat growing faint...

Chris broke the surface of the water a moment later, the girl choking and coughing as she spit up water, oblivious to the fact that the two of them were hovering several feet above the ocean. And it was in that moment, feeling her heart beat grow stronger, that Chris knew what his purpose was.

This was why he was here.