I.....I did horrible things....
I can feel it all, the disgust, a revolting hatred for myself....
My emotions are flooding back into me, threatening to drown me...
I killed...I killed innocent people...I killed children!
My mind is a swirling mass of self hatred and regret.
No heart beats in me yet I can feel a pain that transcends the physical...
No tears drip from my eyes yet my vision blurs...
I retreat into my thoughts, a torment I dare not refuse for the things I have done..
____
I can not tell how much time passes in this place..
All around me is darkness similar to that of when I was where my soul resides, yet it is different..more natural unlike the endless black I was met with back then.
I only notice this, the tormenting and unrelenting thoughts pushed back, because I hear sounds...things that sound like laughter and crying, screams of rage and pain...
Picking myself up, minutely noticing my body feels lighter than it should be, until I realize that it's healthy.
Still dead, but not grotesque as I had been getting while ki...ling..
The torturous thoughts surge once more but I force myself towards the sounds before they swallow me once more.
With each step I can tell though, my body is back to the moment I initially died, excluding my shoulder wound, although I could feel a dullness from it.
As I walk I take note of my surroundings, my vision still hazy yet I can make out enough to tell where I am.
It looks like a hallway, every inch made of a stone I have never seen before, but I can't confirm this due to my vision impairment.
My steps are barefooted and I can feel the stone beneath them, surprisingly soft but yet still firm.
Looking in both directions of the hallway I can see no indication of where they'll end. This is contributed to by the darkness that surrounds me, even with my vision being better than a living person's in the dark. Another once suppressed feeling erupts forth, with just as much force as the ones that came before.
Fear.
Panicked questions fill my mind. Where am I?! Did I die?! Is there an end to this place?!
But as before, curiousity for answers, to find what's making those noises and to answer those questions driving me forward. One would say to not go towards these noises, eliciting most likely a positive response from a sane man.
Yet I am not in a right state of mind, thoroughly racked with guilt and regret, an emotional wreck, I go towards the only source of stimuli to ward off against the thoughts.
So I begin to walk towards the sounds. And walk. And walk.
I feel no sense of progress is made, the sounds never increasing nor decreasing in volume. Remaining the same, able to make them out but unable to completely identify what's making them or who, whether it be a monster or a person, the sounds warped enough for it to be either way. As for why I could tell what they were in the first place a mere gut feeling.
After what felt like hours of walking, through which I never felt any discomfort or impediment despite near constant walking on stone with no shoes and only raggity clothing on, I finally notice a change.
The darkness has eased, ever so slightly. By this point my eyes had regained their focus, though they were only ever a moment away from blurring back again to enshroud my sight to send me back to the thoughts.
Once more, I walk for what feels like hours, and notice once more a change. The walls begin to be decorated, all manner of tapestries and paintings, and the floor now sporting carpets in the same manner. The styles are haphazard, no sense of congruity in style or culture to bring them into a sense of cohesion.
Soon after I begin to see torches, mounted on sconces that followed the same pattern as the decorations before. The fires that burned upon the wood a color I have never seen fire burn before, a blackish-grey similar to the color of death energy. How it produced light despite such color I could hardly fathom.
Before long I began to come across doors, once more each different from the other. Each one I attempt to open is locked.
I proceed on, checking every door I come across, each one locked like the one before.
The next change is the hallway itself, ever so slightly yet noticeably widening, soon to the point I knew I would not be able to make out the walls if it were not for the torches upon the mismatched sconces.
While watching the steady expansion of the hall as I walk forward, it then I noticed that I have come upon a door that blocks the way. Unlike the previous doors and decorations, this one gives off a feeling of belonging, as though it were yet another block of stone placed in the walls, only simply made of wood. With expectation on the door being unlocked, I am surprised to find it does not have a handle, nor any visible way of opening it.
Standing there, thoughts blank, I feel once more an instinct on how to proceed, as though the answer was always with me yet lied dormant.
I knocked, a quick series of four knocks, and then stood waiting, unsure on what'll happen next.
Once more time passes, still unable to tell how much so, the fear rising up each moment as a lack of action gives it purchase.
Before I utterly consumed by hopelessness, the door opens, invitingly so yet from another perspective a foreboding summons.
I do not hesitate however to pass through, merely glad to finally feel an end to this hallway ahead of me.
The room I enter is a massive affair, the granduer of which is not lost on me, though once more it is decorated in a manner that makes no attempt in cohesion.
Before my path though is a carpet that gives off a similar feeling as to the door, leading towards a throne of which is the same, made out of a similar yet far more refined material than the grey stone that make up my surroundings. Upon the throne sits a woman, whose beauty is of a category of its own, her hair a shade of dark that in itself you find yourself lost in, her eyes the same color as the energy of death, and surrounding her is an aura of death. Even so, my heart which beats not feels as though it has resuscitated and locked away thoughts of fleshy desires.
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She eyes me, a smile upon her face that would send a man into shock just to know it was directed at him. Thankfully being already dead, it does not do so to me, almost in an sardonic twist feeling like it'll bring me back to life.
"I see before me a tortured soul, one who as well tried to merge himself with my own being by force. How bold, trying to make a commitment to me without even asking first." Her voice is soothing, and after her words she laughs coquettishly.
"I suppose it's better than trying to run from me, as so many wish to do. Though, I don't believe you wanted to achieve what you have." Every uttered word I hang on, realizing that it goes beyond simply her beauty, as though my soul itself is in her grasp.
"W-who are you?" I can barely mutter that out, my very being trying to stop me from interrupting her.
"Ah!" She cutely exclaims, surprise upon her face. Once more she eyes me, her eyes shining more vibrant than before.
"Since you asked, I will tell." She states. "I am Death. And since I know you wish to know, you are in my queendom. Kingdom. Really I haven't an actual gender, but it seems appearing as a beautiful maiden makes people more willing to come with me."
"Welcome to the Underworld."
My mouth hangs agape at that, before I can once more squeak out my words.
"S-so I died?!"
"Yes and no. Upon that day when you received an axe in your shoulder, you were dead, albeit a process of giving your corpse unlife happened in the process of you dying. As for your current condition, you are not in a state that would bring you to my land. As for why your here, then, since I just know you're dying to find out, it's because of you forcing the energy of death into your soul."
"Truly it is so ungentlemanly of you to do such a thing, how rude, ask before you try to join with me."
Confusion abounds in my mind, as I remember her statement earlier about merging and forming a commitment. The look on my face does not go unnoticed.
"I see you're confused, so I shall enlighten. Death energy, once released, is my domain. It is merely used temporarily by necromancers and undead, but ultimately it is mine and will return to me. And if you're wondering about immortals-" she says with obvious disdain "-they do not sustain their life with it but instead hide their souls from me so that I can not claim them. Though it is annoying, it is not that big of a deal to me, since not many mortals can cope with such life spans and will eventually come willingly."
"That brings us to the matter of you, and your attempt to infuse your soul with death energy, in a sense my own essence. The result is your soul was gripped by it and the death energy took it's natural path to me, effectively killing you in a sense. Although returning to your body is yet possible, if I allow it."
I mull over her words, and once more a question forms within me.
"But what do you mean by a commitment?" I say with more certainty than my previous tries at talking to her.
"Haven't you been listening? You tried to merge with Death! With me! Attempting to do such a thing leads to us sharing your soul, while amusing it is invariably stupid to attempt. The fact you merely ended up here and not having a shattered soul is surprising in of itself."
"B-but you can send me back? You said so yourself!" At the realization I could've shattered my soul, once more I become meek with my speech, quickly speeding through the last sentence.
"But why would I? You already were destined to be here, merely, as I said, temporarily over staying your welcome. Whatever reason have I to send you back?"
I blanked, realizing the truth of her words. I have no real reason to want to return, no one waiting for me, no true dream beyond the craving of power brought by a situation in which that was all I saw. With the return of my emotions it is no longer something that is as all consuming.
Furthermore, the feelings and thoughts that flood me more than enough give reason to not be worthy of it. That it is and should be my fate to be where I belong, with the dead and damned....
And yet.....and yet I don't want to truly die. I still want to live, as all mortals who accomplished nothing want to do.
I don't want to simply have my legacy being a slightly impressive zombie, my legacy being a killer of the defenseless...
"I...I want to live, if only to do something worthwile with that life. That...that is all I give for a reason..."
"Ha...haha...hahahahahaha!" Laughter erupts from her as though it had been corked in since the moment she asked her question. The laughter continues on to the point I feel embarassed at my answer.
Wiping a tear from her eye as her laughter dies down, she assesses me once more, her previous observations amounting to glances compared to the scrutiny she shows now.
"Hmph, a weak reason yet it rings true for you, not a speck of deceit to try and worm out of me a reason to grant your request beyond simple heartfelt desire." She answers cooly.
"I will grant it to you." A declaration that shocks me to my very core.
Why would she give in to my request with such a lacking reason as what I presented her? For what reason is there to do such a thing?
Seeing my face confused once again in this exchange, she gives a smile that reminds me that she is Death.
"There will be a catch, however. When is there ever not one, hehehe." Each laugh sends a shiver down my spine.
What would Death need me to do?
"Aha, you're curious as to what I wish for you to do? It will not require much briefing, as you yourself have experience with what it is that concerns me enough to send you back. The Undead Kings. Though I doubt you know their name, having been a mere zombie under a necromancer's control, they are an ancient group of age-old conquerors who each acquired immortality through the use of phylactery to become the first liches to walk the world."
No recollection comes to mind at the mention of their names, and so I wait patiently for her to continue her explanation.
"They've been a thorn in my side for a very long time, each one doing the whole 'take over the world' thing on their own. Thankfully each time they were stopped by brave heroes. The threat now, however, pales in comparison to those times. They've banded together to form their group of Undead Kings, to try once more at conquering the world. The fact that the world is large more than enough reason for them to do so despite being on average greedy and uncooperative, as they can divvy up the spoils without much hassle with so much to choose from."
With every new additional piece of information I'm further able to understand the situation and the absurd strength of those I served. But one thing still bugs me..
"Why are they focused on the Empire so fervently instead of taking over the lesser countries?"
As soon as I finish voicing my question she smirks, a sight that once more reminds me she is a beauty beyond mortal limit.
"This is something I find hilarious, albeit I feel those Undead Kings have more hatred for. The Empire's Emperor is, like the Undead Kings, a being who is ancient beyond compare on the mortal plane, though he achieved his state through other means that even I do not know. As it is, even for the Undead Kings I can feel their souls manipulating their bodies despite not being able to trace it to wherever they have them hidden, but for the Emperor there is no such feeling. It is as though his body is without any input from a soul."
"But what makes him so fervently hated by those Undead Kings is that he has always been the one who set into motion their downfalls for when they tried to play out their plans for world domination. That, as well as the threat posed by the Empire in general as the largest war machine in the land. So it is only natural that they strive to destroy such a vile rival."
"And why is it that I need to stop them? Won't there be heroes to stop them?"
"Possibly, there usually are. But they never finish the job, always returning home once the threat has been eliminated but never cutting it off at the source. Furthermore, it's not just the Undead Kings being stopped that I want you to do, but to also investigate the Emperor and his peculiar circumstances. Now, it is about time for you to return, though there is one more thing that must be done before that..."
She stands from her throne, her luscious body providing a feast for the eyes, and I lose myself in staring before I notice her approaching me. Despite welling up apprehension from having such a beauty so close, I can not move, my feet rooted to the ground as though they were a part of the stone flooring.
Each step she takes my heart, which somehow beats in my ears with an ever increasing crescendo, sends my mind fluttering.
"There's-" step "-just-" step "-one-" step "-more-" step "-thing."
Her arms reach around my neck, resting there as her face leans close to my own. Every cell in my dead body bursting with a liveliness I've never felt before even while alive.
With that, her lips meet mine.
"A kiss from Death."
I'm once more, met with darkness.