Prologue

Mark was having a very weird dream.  He knew it was a dream, because each piece was unable to connect with any other piece, whether in time or in space.  There was a glorious exploit, sitting in a virtual world of wealth.  There were bullets and organs which seemed strangely familiar, even though he'd never seen them before, lying on the pavement.  There was a gay sex-line, of all things.  He opened the connection, left it on mute and linked it to the wealth.  Let it charge his dupes as long as it wanted.  He laughed while (later? earlier?) blood filled his lungs.  His grandmother told him how lovely it was past the light, and someone with a British accent asked him if he would like a second chance.

A second chance for what?  He'd done everything that had ever popped into his head.  Gotten away with it, too (until that last, stupid...), or been slapped on the wrist for committing crimes no one else had been creative enough to invent yet.

His grandmother was fading, and the British voice seemed to be growing insistent.  Mark kept expecting the voice to fade into the blaring of his alarm, but the voice only became more defined, more itself.

"Look, do you want to live, or not?  I hate to rush such a vital (haha) decision, but I am operating under some severe time limits."

Since it was only a dream, and because it was true besides, Mark answered, "Of course I want to live."

"Well thank...whoever, because so do I.  Let's do this."

Mark finally woke up and opened his eyes.  The good news was that he was alive.  The bad news was that none of whatever had happened before he'd died had been a dream.

He lay face up on the pavement.  He became aware that he his eyes were open and had been long enough to force him to blink the gentle rain from them.  He noticed the gaping, gory holes in his torso at the same moment he felt them closing.  Warped discs of lead were ejected from him softly and painfully.

The men who had killed him were standing over him.  As was the grim reaper (OOC: Mark, it is up to you to decide how reapers appear to you, I'm keeping it generic for the moment.)

Death spoke, "I need to run, and you need to follow me.  In that order.  Sow whatever chaos you can, and meet me at the tallest tree in the park.  As long as I exist, I will swear that you are safe.  Sorry for my brevity, but believe me, it's necessary."

With that, the reaper was off.

Three heavy, armed men who Mark briefly recollects from agony and death stood over him, guns drawn but empty.  Or so Mark guessed.  There were many bullets continuing to empty from his body.  The men were terrified, and made no move to fire again when Mark's eyes snapped open and his fatal wounds closed.

(Mark:  You are standing in an alley.  One end is a dead end.  Three armed mafiosos stand between you and the exit.  A three story building is to your left.  A four story building to your right.  There are no windows or doors on the first story.  The fire escape in roughly six feet above your head on those buildings.  The fence behind you is composed of vertical wooden planks, and difficult to climb.  You have been given a vague guarantee of safety from a possible hallucination.  What do you do?)

EDIT:  Upon review, I feel I have not made one thing clear.  Feel free to post more than one action.  Because of the free form nature of this forum story telling game, one action at a time would not move anywhere quickly enough.  Feel free to tell me what your character plans to do and why.  Tell a story with it.  My job is to craft that story, changing it based on success, failure, and fun.  Even if your many ideas and actions do not succeed, I will resolutely do my best to make them happen.