[ WP ] `` I 've had my last meal 13 times , final words 29 times , and been to my funeral 9 times ... I think this may be the one I do n't walk away from ... ''

It's astoundingly tough to be functionally immortal. 
 
 Scratch that. It's astoundingly tough to be functionally and PUBLICLY immortal. 
 
 When it's a well-known fact that you're immortal... people expect a lot more from you. Everyone wants you to prove your mettle, and usually at a time you least expect it. Even when you're immortal, dying HURTS. It is a pain you can not explain, and even if you could, nobody cares. You're only as good as your last demonstration. 
 
 A Japanese Shogun once thrust a sword through my heart and left it there, just to see if there were limits to my gift. I've been beheaded, burned, tortured, drowned, suffocated, strangled, drawn and quartered. I've had my last meal 13 times, final words 29 times and have been to my own funeral 9 times. I know this pain. 
 
 I think this.... this... may be the one I do n't walk away from. 
 
 I wipe the sweat from my brow uselessly, the beads reforming the instant I wipe some away. I'm moving around in hip-deep water. A somber, beautiful blue light wraps around me. I begin to feel a little numb and then begin to feel as though I am floating, even as my feet carry me around in the water. 
 
 3 hours ago, things were going well. I had a sub-2 minute score on Solitaire and the plant was humming along quite nicely. When things began to go downhill, I stood politely while the rest of the team gave me the one look that has always been unique to my existence.. that look that says `` You know you're the only man for this job...'' That look has consistently robbed me of what is left of my humanity. 
 
 I look around for the valve that I'm supposed to turn, and I notice strips of my flesh floating around on the water. I can see the blue glow now between my radius and scapula of my arm, and the room starts to buzz. I think. 
 
 Will I even be able to turn this valve when I get there? I'm starting to wonder deeply about this as the flesh cooks off of me in waves that ebb and flow with the buzz that seems to be mostly in my head. 
 
 Every time I move, I feel like there is less and less of me left. Until finally, there is no more. Whatever was left of me -- disappeared with the rest of you.
