This story starts as all the best stories do, with the main character dying. Sal clung desperately to his former insides which now happened to be rather outside. The battle raging around him seemed to grow more distant and he thought he could hear the chant of the first world calling him into its embrace. It was in those final moments that he thought he should have listened to the priests more, before everything went blank.
The next thing that the soldier formerly known as Sal experienced was the sound of a high pitched, whiny voice speaking in some strange language he did not recognize although it seemed to occasionally pause or hitch like the speaker was unsure of what they were saying. Sight returned to Sal and he saw a man dressed in black robes holding a bloody heart in one hand and a metal tome in the other standing over him. He tried to speak but found he couldn’t move a single part of himself except his eyes.
The room he was in appeared to be made of stone bricks, or at least the ceiling and walls were. The sudden return of the feeling of touch, or at least most of it told him that he was on something hard and cold. He did not have much time to take in the experience as suddenly without his permission his torso started to rise and his head was turned towards the man.
“I shall call you… Zed.” The stranger said, although Sal now Zed heard it said twice, at the same time. Once from the words that the man said and the noise passing into them, and then as if the god’s were speaking directly to him clear as day within his brain. When the stranger next spoke, it did not ring out from within Zed’s head as well at least. “Oh, all of my years of hard work have finally paid off, not even death shall be able to stop me now!”
As the pompous necromancer turned around Sal once more tried to talk to ask what was going on but found that he could only make a heavy moan.. The sudden noise made his new companion turn around and stare at him intensely. “Zed. Be quiet and stay here.” With the command the voice once more rang out in Zed’s head alongside the sounds that he heard. When he tried to reply, he found that this time his body would not even comply with the request.
Once the necromancer left did Zed finally take the time to look around, this appeared to be some sort of crypt with a few of the tombs disturbed and their contents empty. When Zed finally looked down the first thing he noticed was the rather prodigious gut and the lighter albeit rotting color of his skin. It seemed that the body that he was in was not his, or at the very least. Whatever happened had changed him rather drastically. Beyond the revelation that he was a zombie was still sinking in too.
Taking a deep breath, or as much as one could while they were missing a lung and the other one was animated by magic, Zed swung his legs off of the stone he was sitting on and climbed off. He wandered around the crypt looking at the important looking statues that stood next to the various tombs in this place. It was only when he peered into one of the half open stone containers and saw a skeleton laying there that he realized there wasn’t even a torch down here and yet he saw everything as though it were outside in midday.
Once he felt satisfied, Sal returned to the altar that he had been reborn on and sat down against it, he closed his eyes as the panic started to set in although it’s edges had been dulled. What happened to his family? What of his king? Was he to be damned for eternity with his being pulled from the first world and dragged back to this unholy shell? He thought of his friend from youth who joined the priesthood and yet for all of his efforts he could not recall the friend’s name or even their face. When he tried to think of others it was as though the memory was a painting with all of the faces scrubbed out. He wanted to cry but no tears came. Only the sound of footsteps brought him out of his reverie and Sal stood up and stared at the heavy oaken door that appeared to be the only way out of the room.
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The door slowly creaked open and once more the black robed stranger walked in, grinning madly as he stared at Zed. “Come Zed, follow me.” And so Zed’s body once again was forced into compliance and despite his discomfort, he walked behind the necromancer who took him down a stone hallway which had torch sconces that were empty and covered in dust. The stones seemed cracked and less well kept the farther they got from the chamber they started out and Zed felt the faint brush of wind against himself as they walked which told him they were getting closer to the exit of this place.
The heavy metal door that separated the crypt from the outside seemed to be a manor, or at least well decorated building which Zed was led around like a puppy on a leash through. He did not have long to take in his surroundings before he was told to get into a small room and stay there until he was called for.
Sal wasn’t sure how long he was in that room for, at least a day but without light or bodily functions even he had no way of knowing how much time had passed. He never thought he’d miss being sleepy or hungry and yet here he was. A wave of relief washed across the zombie when the door finally opened once again and this time the necromancer was dressed in a poofy shirt and black pants that appeared to have ropes tied around them. He tossed a bundle of clothes into the room. “Zed. Put those on.” Once the zombie was dressed, an ivory mask was held out and he was commanded to wear that as well, it clung tightly to his face and if he was still breathing he might have worried about it suffocating him.
The necromancer instructed him out of the room and took him out into the manor once more. The necromancer moved to grab a candle and lit it before he handed the stick to Zed, commanding him to hold it as they walked. The halls became steadily dustier and the candle holders on the walls appeared to be rusted with portraits that seemed like they hadn’t been touched in years, each bearing some resemblance to the necromancer.
While Zed pondered the meaning of all of this, he felt a warm pressure on his hand and he tried to brush it away only for it to come back and he repeated it once again, it was on the third time that Zed looked down and realized the wax had melted onto his hand and from the looks of it his wiping had pulled away some of the flesh it melted onto as well. In a panic he tried to shout, although it only came out as a rather loud moan from the remnants of what was left of his throat and mouth.
“You stupid thing! Just. Hold the damn candle and follow me, then shut up! Honestly, I know these creatures are not supposed to be bright but can they not even fulfill a simple task?” The man’s pace quickened down the darkened halls until they reached the second to last door which he stepped inside, motioning impatiently for Zed to follow him.
It seemed to be a bedroom, or at least there was a bed and a dresser with an empty candelabra that had dark brown stains along its length. The walls were colored a sickly brown, although if they had developed that way or if it had been a development of disuse was hard to say. The necromancer moved to inspect a seemingly blank wall, putting his fingers against the wall and then tapping against it causing a hollow noise to ring out.
“Put the candle down on the far right candle holder.” The necromancer commanded his assistant, watching as the wall seemingly fell down on it’s own once the candle had been placed. He grinned widely to himself and turned to face Zed. “March down the hall and keep going until you cannot anymore.”
As was the usual, Zed’s body refused to do anything but comply with the command and so he was forced to walk through the now open section of wall and his heightened senses in the dark revealed that the walls and floor were made of wood that seemed as fresh as the day it was cut, with not an ounce of dust to be found.
Zed continued to walk, although the floor seemed to turn around a corner sharply making Zed turn around to keep walking down it, and he saw what appeared to be a metal door with strange symbols on it although what those symbols were would remain a mystery as five blades swung down from the ceiling and sliced through the upper half of Zed, leaving him to wonder how he had angered the gods so.