I woke up in darkness. Maybe it’s cliché, and let’s be honest the cliché-train is the only train in this story’s station, but I really only saw darkness. Well, mostly. There weren’t any cracks of light signifying I was in a closet or little light specks suggesting I was buried alive, but there were these ostentatious words glowing right in front of my face like someone smeared the contents of a glowstick on the insides of my eyelids.
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YES/NO
If you could get boners from non-sexual excitement I would have one right now. I mean I do, but that’s probably the reason. Naturally I slammed my hand on the yes button only to find out I didn’t actually have a hand, or a boner. So either I’m asleep, or someone literally did draw on my eyelids. I looked back at the words, I mean I can’t really look away from the words ‘cause they’re right fuckin’ there but I came back from my aside to the camera, back to the words. Hmm. I tried again, though instead of slamming the yes with my bone…hand I just thought ‘yes’ really hard - which is what I imagined willing something to happen means. I waited a second and nothing changed, still glowy. So instead I imagined a hand1 going up and poking the yes button. Immediately the words vanished and were replaced with the simple:
----<
Instantly I felt alive again, y’know instead of…uh…that. I could immediately tell I was lying down on an incredibly uncomfortable bed. Also it was nighttime. I could tell because my ass was cold and I could see stars directly above me. Cool. With a small grin curling the corners of my mouth I rolled my head to the side and came face to face with a dude covered from head to toe in black robes with a pointy hood, like the ku klux klan but black. I screamed, or perhaps shrieked you’ll have to ask him. Did I shriek because you could see the pale white skin of my incredibly naked body and I thought he was some kind of reverse KKK follower/pervert? Of course not. I screamed because he was double-fisting a pointlessly spiky snake knife high over his head with the clear intention of marring my perfect complexion. He screamed. Now this one I’m less sure about. Did he scream because he is a reverse KKK follower/necrophiliac and he was enraged at his night’s distraction unfairly being less dead than he had hoped? To which the obvious solution was to simply continue whatever his plans for that spiky bullshit were? Or maybe because he was intimidated by the raging…ah…sword that I had…um…hidden and just pulled out…telepathically…? Or probably because people don’t come back from the dead, like, often. Well for whatever reason he dropped Sir Stabbington Spike, my new sidekick, and ran away. Leaving the horrified expression on my face in case the murder-pervert (murvert? <-- portmanteau.) decided to call the guards and I had to invent a story that made any sort of sense, I looked around. Seems I was now sitting on some kind of ritual bench or funeral pyre on top of a hill, with a full moon right over me, illuminating my incredibly naked body. Holy shit it’s cold out. Frantically looking around more in the hopes of some clothes I found some rags, like fuckin’ dish rags, and my status plate. Weird, but okay. Hoping it would tell me more than ‘???’ I looked at it.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
NAME: Jin
TITLE: Enigmatic/ Endless Sleeper/
AGE: 19
RACE: ???
LEVEL: 2
CLASS: Beginner
STRENGTH: 12
VITALITY: 13
SPEED: 17
AGILITY: 17
LUCK: -1
INTELLIGENCE: 15
DEXTERITY: 18
MANA: 5
SKILLS: Origin(UPDATED). Traveler (+lighten load). Enigma(UPDATED).
“Wat.”
Before we get too carried away, meet Phil the Necromancer, or Krodan, as he likes to be called. Since that sounds made up and has more letters than Phil, we will call him Phil. Phil is currently running away from the site of his first successful soul-binding, or so he believes. Well, more like so he will believe in a few hours. For now, he believes that he was about to soul-bind when the corpse got up, which it shouldn’t, for clarification. But enough about him, meet Phil the Necromancer. This particular Phil the Necromancer is identical to the Phil the necromancer you just met except this one’s from about three weeks earlier. Will Phil the Necromancer become important to the plot instead of just being some random creep who was going to violate our poor hero using his curvy sword in the middle of the night? That depends on how much fun the author finds typing Phil the Necromancer to be. The novelty will probably wear off, but the author keeps missing the ‘r’ in ‘Necromancer’ so for now, here’s Phil. The author stops typing here, realizing that if he changes ‘Phil’ to ‘Johnny’ he can say ‘here’s Johnny’ in a reference to the Shining that contains the subtlety of an elephant break-dancing in a china shop. He considers it. Johhny the Necromancer. Wait shit. Jonny the...fuck.. Johnny the Necromancer. Fuck it, his name is Phil.
1 *{Noob Note}: totally imagined a penis