The metaphorical sweat ran down my ethereal brow as I tested out my new abilities…And What a skill set it was. From politely asking undead vermin to complete a simple task; to throwing tiny pebbles. Unfortunately, the matter manipulated was…inconsequential. I could only pick up enough material to form a small marble and after a few seconds it would start to phase through. When I tried to throw the rock…it was pitiful. The stone barely traveled a few feet before skidding across the floor. No wonder the undead were easy bounties, they got terrible skills.

CRACK

My head jerked at the sound.

“Now what has he gotten into…” I sighed and went back to the main chamber.

There was my body, covered in rotten viscera and sucking the marrow out of a bone. Bits of congealed blood dripped down the chest while the grubby fingers tore at the juicy parts. At first I was grossed out, but now it was just a minor annoyance.

“Can you at least keep it down?” I muttered.

My body stopped and stared for a brief moment. Then turned and went back to feasting. I shook my head and toured the cave for the thousandth time…Arguing with a corpse was futile. I could sense the various undead vermin in the walls. I had lost many of them trying to free my corpse, but as more rats were found—I was able to reanimate more. This led to my only form of entertainment; pretending to be the rat general. Using my skills I outflanked the still living vermin and converted them to my side. It was a bloody and gorey event, I nearly lost my own forces on the initial skirmish. However, every kill was another for my side. The lingering death magics easily resurrected the tiny bodies.

Honestly, if I wasn’t stuck to this cave that might be a good gig.

“Excuse me Madam, I heard you have a rat problem” I’d introduce myself with a deep bow

“AHHADHFAHSDFHAESDHFHA” She would scream.

“HEY DON’T RUN! I’M A NICE GHOST!”

…

I’m going fucking insane. Is this how life is going to be? Roleplaying possible scenarios in my head. Even if my friends find a way to bring me back, will I be of sound mind? Honestly, I wish I just stayed dead. What kind of life is this…wait. If this is how I am, does that mean all other undead we killed were…No, don't think about that. They were insane, they were evil. I’m sure whatever foul magic that reanimated them didn’t have a soul. I have to be the exception to the rule, isn’t that right peepers.

The rat tried to squeak but it just made a grotesque popping sound. Its throat was torn open by another’s jaws and thick blood spurted onto its chest. I tried to press its eye back into the socket but it just kept falling out. A thin nerve held it in place as it bounced from the head movements. I just gave up and decided to pat it’s head. The little guy rushed back into the walls in search of another meal.

Speaking of meals, I learned the hardest part of being a commander–Logistics. With a limited supply of bodies, I needed to make sure the bulk was for my body. But if I didn’t keep the rats fed, they would rebel. It took a lot of trial and error. At first, I didn’t use my abilities at all. After conquering the rat kingdom, I allowed my subjects unlimited freedom. They were ravenous feeders and tore through the corpses with glee. But when the food ran out…they turned on each other. By the time I realized what happened, I was down to a third of the original force. From that point I had to make tough decisions. Every few days, I would have to choose one of my subjects to sacrifice. I almost felt bad for the little guy but without his sacrifice, they would perish. With a flick of my hand, The other rats would swarm and tear the noble creature apart. I dare not use the pile of corpses from the necromancer, if my stash ran out I am not sure what my body would do. Thankfully, my shambling body was a titanic guard keeping the peasants away from the goods.

I started using pebbles to count the days. Each one carefully aligned to perfection. With all the time in the world, I couldn’t let it look messy. Another sunset, another rock. My little rat friends are the only thing keeping me company. Even my body didn’t do much. If it wasn’t feeding it was just…staring. Every time I glanced back the milky eyes were looking at me.

“WHAT?” no response, it just swayed a bit then went back into the cavern.

“That’s what I thought” I mumbled

Another day passed and another rock was added. I hadn’t leveled nor gained any new skills. It was a terrible limbo, a dullness of extreme proportions. Not even the wildlife would venture near the cave, the lingering death magics deterring any and all. I couldn’t even draw on the walls. The rocks pressed through my hand anytime I hit it against the stone.

“HELLLLO” My head turned…was that a person?

The call reverberated through the cave before slowly mellowing out. This was it, this was my opportunity to escape. I rushed back to the entrance to greet the scout.

“JUST CHECKING THE BOUNTY. ANYONE HERE?” The scout stood just out of the death zone.

With no response, he took one step into the tainted earth.

“Fuck” I muttered

An overwhelming surge of bloodlust filled my brain. The single step into the dead zone activates a deep urge within. A basic instinct that rapidly overtook the brain. I needed his essence; it was a visceral pull on my very soul. No, I'm not some mindless beast. Taking a few deep breaths, I pushed aside the cravings and started to think of ways to communicate. This could be my key to freedom. However; for my rat subjects, the living flesh was too much. I felt them skitter towards the entrance of the cave. Realizing what was happening, I tried to stop them with my skill but it did nothing. My rat kingdom flooded out of the cave and towards their new target.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“No no no no no” I tried to block the rats with my body, but they just jumped through me.

“Damn these adventures, they couldn’t take out the vermin” The half-elf pulled out a sword and began dispatching the swarm.

“Ratty, Rastutin, Mouser!” I screamed out each name as the weapon bisected them on the spot.

I collapsed to my knees as the half-elf passed. All my friends are gone just like that. He didn’t spare a single one of my followers. I did everything for them and now…now they are beyond dead. As he lit a torch I recoiled, the flames a natural enemy of my kind. It took a few seconds to regain my bearings but I needed to think fast. How long would he be here? There had to be a way to communicate with him. Unfortunately, that flame didn’t let me approach.

“I got it” I picked up a pebble and tossed it.

Nothing. The half-elf didn’t even react. Damn these skills…WAIT. I got onto my hands and knees and gathered as many stones as I could. As best as I could, I spelled out

D E D H E L P

On the cavern floor. Now I just had to get his attention…wait where did he go? Focusing up, I found the font of life and chased after it. It wasn’t long until I caught up with the scout. After encountering the vermin, he was moving with extreme care. The half-elf crept through the cavern tapping his sword against the floor to bait any possible traps. As he got closer to the necromancer’s quarters, he wrapped a peppermint-lined cloth around his face.

“Fucking undead, why couldn’t they send somebody else for this” He mumbled.

I hurled rocks against the walls to try and grab the scout's attention, but he just ignored the light taps. I had to admire his resolve, the guy took this mission much more seriously than my own group. I mean, when flying solo, the slightest mistake could lead to death. Dammit, why couldn’t I have just acted more mature. I would be back at the tavern having a nice ale and celebrating the windfall. Now I’m just a ghost in a fungus ridden cave. I watched as he entered the necromancer's chamber, and saw him pause. .

"By the gods, no wonder they lost a teammate," he muttered

Putting his sword away, he pulled out a flask of oil. A chill ran through my spine when I saw him circling the area. He was planning to burn it all. No, no, no, if he burned my body, I wouldn't be able to... Wait, where is my body?

I surveyed the room. That was strange; he should have swarmed alongside the rats. It was just some mindless zombie. There was no way it could resist that call of life. Glancing down, I traced the lifethread to one of the piles. The sliver of ethereal force revealed its location and then, we made eye contact.

"Don't mess this up," was the vibe I got as my body stared at me.

Quite expressive for a zombie, but what was he planning? There was no way he could take on this scout. He was just a lowly zombie, not some high-tier lich or ghoul.

As the scout doused the first clump of corpses, he pulled out a second canister and moved to the next pile. I realized the trap was set. This was bad, really bad. I tried to warn him, throwing whatever I could and yelling at the top of my lungs. I even attempted to rush the torchlight and touch him, however the natural warmth disintegrated my ethereal limbs. I looked back and saw the hatred flowing from my body's face. My actions would get us both killed.

The scout uncapped the bottle and poured it onto the pile. The dark liquid soaked into the torn clothing, seeping between the cracks and crevices. It felt like an eternity as I waited for my body to strike, but it never came. As the last drop fell, the scout tossed the container aside. With the second pile doused, he turned towards the last... then hell broke loose.

My body lunged at the scout's back.

"What..." he yelled, reaching for his sword, but it was too late. My body had a good bite onto the man’s shoulder. The scout cried out in pain, dropping the torch to the ground. The flames dimmed as it landed in a pool of stale blood and cast a dark shadow across the chamber.

"GET OFF!" The man screamed, tossing my body across the floor.

I could hear the flesh tearing off the shoulder as it refused to let go. He crashed into one of the piles, sending corpses tumbling across the room. I expected him to get up, but instead, he just laid there perfectly still.

"Fucking zombies," the scout muttered, tearing off a piece fabric and stuffing it into the wound..

While the wound wasn’t that deep, it was dangerous to use a healing potion on a zombie bite. Whatever sickness they carried could be amplified by the magical liquid. Only in the worst cases would somebody even attempt it. With the blood slowed, the scout grabbed his sword and carefully patrolled the room.

"Where are you?" he screamed out.

I watched in horror as he split open each skull. One good stab to the brain would finish off even the hardiest undead. I could even feel a sense of unease from my own body. That innate longing for survival connected the two of us briefly. Looking over, I could read his face once more.

"Do something, you idiot!" I flinched as another skull cracked open, but I couldn't attack this person.

He was still alive; there had to be a way to resolve this without any more death. Time was ticking as he approached, raising his sword once more. I saw my body shift and bite the ankle.

"AHGHAH!" He screamed and smashed in the face. A sickening

CRACK

Reverberated throughout the chamber as the bone caved in. That was it, my beautiful face was destroyed in only a moment. My nose had sunk inwards and the jaw shattered from the boot.

"Scum." The half-elf raised his sword for the final blow...

"Ow-What the..."

He turned to my direction and I stood dumbfounded. My arm still held out in front of me shaking. What had I done? While earlier I begged for death, when faced with it a second time… I couldn’t do it. If my body died, then I would be gone too. A handful of pebbles was all it took, some small stones to distract. One brief moment was all and my body grabbed the injured ankle and pulled.

SLAM

The half-elf fell and smashed his skull into the stone. My body didn’t give him any chance to recover; the zombie scrambled on top and dug those fingers into the soft belly. I couldn’t watch; a sense of sickness roiled within me as the death screams echoed in the dark cave. My body didn’t care; even before the elf was dead, he was feasting. I could sense a feeling of satisfaction as he ravenously devoured the fresh meat. As the light faded from the man’s eyes, I could have sworn he finally saw me. That brief moment caught between life and death… he saw the true killer.

And that was how I got my first true meal.