[ WP ] You are dead ... again . However , you planned this just as you planned the other times you died . You study death . Describe your experience this time as it compares to the other times .

Dear Professor Caventroupe, 
 
 It is with great haste and worry that I'm redacting this letter, for after attending your recent conference on `` The State and Techniques of Modern Mortology'' last month in London, I'm afraid you are about to commit a terrible mistake. 
 
 Please, I urge you not to discard this letter and continue reading. I can guarantee you that I'm not one of these `` puritan alarmists'' you so accurately described in your talk: my worry has not to do with the morality of the craft -as I'm a practitioner myself, though I doubt you have seen my name in the body of published works- but with the danger to yourself and -more importantly- others that some of the techniques you proposed might entail. 
 
 If anything, please listen to me: Do NOT repeat my experiment. In fact, I now believe we should refrain from the study of these matters altogether. It might be too late now, I'm afraid, for my irresponsible actions might have caused us all an irreparable damage. But I hope that you, and the many other aspiring Mortologists, might be wiser than me and avoid increasing whatever damage I created. 
 
 As I said, I'm a practitioner myself, and while I'm far as knowledgeable and reputable a Mortologist as you, I have indeed undertaken most of the experiments that are detailed in the `` Science of Death'' treatise by Dr. Mankell, as well as performed a number of tests on chemical compounds designed by myself to induce a deeper and longer lasting state of awareness while in the passing trance. 
 
 You will notice this is similar to what you proposed in your own talk last month, and I can confirm that a higher dosage of ergoline in the mix does have the effects you predicted: it lead to increased duration of the time I could safely remain clinically dead -and consciously aware- before a resuscitation had to be performed. More accurately: a 20 % increase in this substance, I discovered, allows for a dead state of nearly 3 minutes. 
 
 3 minutes, I soon learnt, was not enough. I got to experience the full consciousness transition stage ( commonly referred to as `` the tunnel'' ), and the white light at its end, but the experiment ended before the light could fully clear, so I did n't get to see what *lies Beyond*. 3 minutes, however, allowed me to get a glimpse. A glimpse of a marvelous structure, expanding in all directions. A heavenly, majestic, and welcoming structure. It is this glimpse that motivated me to push further, certain in the belief that if I could just increase the duration of the experience by a mere seconds, I would gain a deep understanding of the nature of the *Beyond. * 
 
 In this point I must insist: Do NOT follow my footsteps. Knowing what I now know, I would recommend that Mortology be abandoned as a branch of science. Just like chemical weapons, some things might be better left uninvented. And some knowledge might be better left in the shadow, too, for it might be too heavy and burdensome for the human soul. I wish I could forget what I learnt, what I saw... the implications of it all. There is still hope for you, though. 
 
 In my last experiment, I increased the ergoline proportion by 45 %, and also added a secondary sedative to the mix. This, I reflected, should allow for at least 5 minutes of continuous exploration of the state of death. Anxious at the outlook of finally learning what lies beyond the tunnel, and -why not admit it-, encouraged by the perspective of having my own name be recognized at the same level as your own, I started the experiment. 
 
 The first stage proceeded as usual, with the loss of body sensation, followed by a tingle and sensation of falling down. Then, I entered the transition tunnel, white light at its end. The tunnel is a well understood stage, and many Mortologists have written treatises about it, so I did n't focus on this stage. Rather, I flew through it, entering the white light as soon as I could, hungry for discovering what lied beyond. 
 
 I saw the same structure I had glimpsed last time. A magnificent construction, with bridges like tendrils extending in every possible direction for hundreds of miles. And as the white light cleared... I started seeing the details on its surface.... bumpy forms, moving and shifting. 
 
 As I approached, though, something changed. A dark gleam, like an overcast sky, suffocated the white light. And without the brightness, the structure revealed its true form. It was not magnificent, like I has mistakenly thought, but abhorrent. Not majestic, but terrible. Not heavenly, but hellish. 
 
 The bumps on its surface, I realized, were people. Bodies, not all of them whole. Naked, rotten bodies. Crowded, lumped on top of each other. Hands and legs popping here and there, the whole mass quivering, hungry mouths devouring the meat of their own bodies. 
 
 A cold horror washed over me. I stood there, floating, basking in the hideous sight. It was n't until some of these creatures -I refuse to call them human- looked at me with their empty eyes, not until I heard their hungry screams, that I ran away. I crossed the tunnel again, backwards, as fast as I could, not daring to look behind me. I woke up laying on my bed, drenched in sweat, the IV tubes still connected to my arm. 
 
 That's when it hit me. The realization. The one that keeps me up at night, and that compelled me to write this letter: 
 
 The tunnel. It worked both ways.
