Story: Keeping Count

"One hundred and thirty eight"; the thought came unbidden, flooding his mind, riding in on the surge of power feeding into his body as he came alive again. He knew what it meant. It was the number of times he had died and been reborn, at least since the time he figured out a way to keep score. He surveyed the scene materializing before him striving in vain to recall anything else from his past. It never worked, nothing but the last thought passed through death to the next life. *Get naked bitch* he heard himself say and did what he always did to keep from going insane, he shut down his mind's senses from what was happening to him, to what he was doing to others. Only his internal clock kept track of the passage of time. He was ready when the inevitable jolt of power rushing out of his body came. His senses awoke and in one brief instant of clarity he could see his victim. Bending forward he kissed softly the tears on her face, whispering, "One hundred and thirty nine".