An intense pain yanked it from the blackness it had known for so long, back into existence. For what had seemed an eternity, it had felt nothing, and yet, distant memories of light remained, hidden away, suppressed even.

For a moment, the pain, that had so violently awakened him, subsided, leaving the tormented soul drifting through soulspace, trying to make sense of the memories it found. Memories of a life previously lived, a long time ago. Memories of the face of his mother, of sounds of laughing children. Feelings of intense happiness.

The timeline advanced to its adolescence, showing images of the hard work it had to do to earn an honest living, as a young man trying to reach independence.

As the memories of how he first met his wife, and of how they had lived the first few years happily together on their little farm in the woods, started coming back, a soothing white light filled the spirit with a warmth that was beckoning it to its source.  

Floating towards the light in blissful peace, all elements from this former life seemed to congeal into pure happiness.

As the spirit reached the light, it started to be absorbed by it. Ready for the next step, it just let go, expecting relief to come soon. Then, suddenly, the same sharp pain that had cast it back into this realm, now pulled it away from what it most desired. Despair started to fill the spirit as the pain pulled it farther and farther away from the light. The memories witnessed were no longer the soothing, tranquil ones it had observed before. As the light grew weaker it and eventually turned into shadows, that they grew darker, ever darker, depicting the saddest moments of its life. But there was something else about these memories. It remembered them better, the images of violence and destruction. The feelings of helplessness upon witnessing the death of his wife and the smell of his burning village. The fight that it had tried to put up to avenge his loved ones, that had ultimately provoked the untimely demise of its mortal coil. These were the memories that had caused it to linger in soulspace.

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Another surge of pain seared through the spirit, but the torture could no longer hurt it more than it was already hurting. The warmth of before, together with the readiness to cross over, had been replaced by coldness and an unquenchable rage, for the revenge it sought could no longer be exacted.

Then, something happened that the spirit was not prepared for. Its surroundings faded, being replaced by darkness once again. But this darkness was different. There was sound, and pain. Not the same pain as before. It was a different pain... a pain from a previous life... a physical pain. It was the feeling of having a body.

--

He tried to open his eyes, but bright light, shining directly in his face, made it difficult to see. He saw vague figures of men in white garments, seemingly in a good mood, as they seemed to be congratulating each other. “He’s alive! We have done it, Sylvester the soul siphon is working”.

Then, one of the men came towards him, and asked: “Can you understand what I’m saying?”. He grunted. Recollection of how to speak was still too far away. “My name is Sylvester. What is your name?”. “My name...”  he thought as memories of his childhood once again flashed before his eyes. The word “Drugo” emerged. With great effort, he tried to form the sounds to pronounce his name. “D… Duo… Dugo… “

Hearing his own name unleashed something from deep within, as rage focused his mind allowing him greater coordination of his body.  A loud bellow ripped from his throat, "My name is Drugo and I will have my revenge!"

He tensed all his muscles and ripped loose his constraints. He planted his fist in the face of Sylvester, who fell unconscious. The other man cowered in a corner as Drugo looked around like a wild animal, before rushing outside through the door. He sprinted through the long corridor towards the daylight and crashed through the door into a street. For a moment, he stopped. He did not recognize the world he saw. Buildings were immense and the streets were crowded with horseless coaches. He started running again, looking for a place to hide and come to his senses. “Time for revenge.”