The stranger and Michael are sitting in the motels diner. It's night-time. The Stranger is wearing clothes now. Michael doesn't remember him getting dressed at all but doesn't particularly care as he guzzles down his second coffee.
"Look man, thanks... I suppose, for saving me", said Michael not knowing why he was giving thanks. He wanted to die, afterall.
"Where did you come from? I mean, how did you get into my room? How did.... Who are you?" Michaels voice was raspy from the rope, so much so that he didn't recognize himself.
"It's a lovely night, tonight", was the first thing the Stranger said. "I could watch the night sky for years"
Michael didn't know what to say. The coffee was making him queasy and he felt like puking again. Sitting across from him in the diner was this anomaly of a man. Michael studied him for a moment. His age could have been anywhere between twenty five and fifty depending on where your eyes rested on his face. He was relaxed despite what just happened in the motel room, his fingers crossed on the table in front of him. He wasn't eating or drinking but paid for Michaels coffee, even though he wasn't even wearing clothes up until, like, ten minutes ago, which severely confused Michael.
"Okay, Michael?" asked the man, snapping Michael out of it.
"Wait, how do you know my name?" replied the increasingly disturbed Michael.
The man looked Michael directly in the eyes, sat forward and said:
"Listen to me carefully because I am only going to explain this once. You are dead, you died in that room. The Michael that was does not exist anymore. From now on, no-one you knew will recognize you. You will wander alone for the next fifty seven years until you die beside a dumpster in New York, a decrepit old man. But, Michael, although this is written and shall happen, you do have a decision to make. The biggest decision you will ever make and your answer will affect your eternal soul." He paused. "Are you ready for it?"
Michael was fucking blown away by this monologue.
"Ready for what?" he replied instinctively, not assimilating what was just said.
"Heaven or Hell. What will it be? You don't have to say anything. A simple action, or inaction, will decide your fate."
"What do I have to do?" Michaels mouth was talking for itself, supplying the correct replies to statements without the brain understanding what was going on. It was as if he knew that this information would unravel itself later on and make sense. All that he needed to do for now was just listen to it.
"It's simple", said the Stranger. "To go to Hell, do nothing and your soul will burn for eternity."
Michaels spine tried to crawl out of his ass when he heard this.
"But, to get to Heaven", said the Stranger, "you have to save an unborn child".