We were crossing a ridge when Corgan was lifted off the ground by something. "Shoot it! Shoot the tyrannosaur!" he screamed as blood streamed from the puncture wounds that had opened up in belly. I fired into the empty space above him to no effect. Then Corgan's ragged corpse dropped to the forest floor, and I was alone. Utterly alone. There was no dinosaur. There was nothing.
A man was killed somehow and brought back to life. He, uniquely, remembers everything about Death, from the skeleton on the horse that guided him, to the afterlife itself. And the annoying bit where he was wrenched from his jacuzzi. He now has penned the instant best seller, entitled 'To Death and Back: My adventurers beyond the grave.' OR IS IT? Is this man telling the truth, or simply a very good liar? Is it all a fraud?