AN: Ya know, I could have sworn I was on chapter seven with this story. Ah well. If there's an issue, or any confusions about this one, let me know. Will do my best to alleviate any concerns.

EDIT: So I just noticed Allstarall's review, and he brought up an interesting question. Well, a couple of them. The first is if the guy at the beginning, the kitsune, and the skeleton are one and the same. This was in the first couple of chapters, but to reiterate, the answer is yes. They're the same person.

The second question is about the personalities between the man and the skeleton, I think. Correct me if I'm wrong, though. The man was jovial, but dying, while the skeleton is uncaring. In my own mind, I see the man as depressed, but trying to put on a fake smile and persona to keep others from noticing his inner thoughts. Which is why he laughs a lot, and pokes fun at his own failing body. The skeleton, of the other hand, is supposed to be the man's inner desires, and how apathetic he is towards others. Basically, his body has been failing for so long, what can the world do to make him care? Not really sure if I got my point across, though.

The kitsune, on the other hand, is about a thousand years old. He's much calmer and cares more about others, than his younger years.

_________________

"You killed them all," came the utterance of a hooded elf within the corner of the room. Many were shocked at the brutality of the Ageless's past self, and few were thoroughly disgusted by what they heard. In so much as to leave the others alone with him, travelling to wherever their hearts desired.

"Almost," came the reply of the golden kitsune, who shrugged. "There was only a handful left, and their hammers were quite painful."

"Why?" The question was on everyone's tongue, but the elf was the one who asked first.

"Why what?"

"Why did you kill them?"

"My dear elf, did you truly believe they would have left me alone? I was a SKELETON. An UNDEAD on a DIFFERENT WORLD. My race, of that time in my life, was being hunted down and annihilated at any given chance. What do you think they would have done, after seeing my visage? Run away? Leave me alone? No, they would have sought my destruction sooner."

The kitsune was annoyed at their ignorance, for the world they lived on had rules and laws that allowed the undead to prosper without fear of the living. However, there were also rules and laws that protected them from the undead. To go against those laws subjected the offender, or offenders, to a consequence worse than death. This also serves as a warning to all other would-be offenders of such a law. Unfortunately, it would seem that their views did not take into account that where this took place was in another time, and on another world entirely.

"The world we live in would not have lasted very long, if it was in another place and time," a cup appeared in his forepaws, and began to drink from it slowly. "If I were you, elf, I would not try to push my own beliefs on someone who has killed in the past, and on a different world. Yes, I have been cruel. Yes, I have killed. Yes, I have done such despicable acts, and would do so again and again if it meant the outcome would be the peace we now have to this day.

"This world has not been at war in an age, elf," the Ageless sighed, as he stared into the empty cup, "It is because of those laws that kept your ancestors from slaughtering my first people, that you think with such thoughts. It is best you set them aside, because my stories are not for hipsters such as yourself.

"Besides," the kitsune grinned maniacally, "killing for a reward was a great incentive for one such as I of that time."

**********

Now where was I? Ah yes. Dead.

The moment after the hammer fell, and after the darkness came for me, I found myself on the edge of a ghastly pale river. A sickly green mist rose up along blackened banks, and seemed to try and grab my feet every chance it had. Too my right was a small, wooden pier, to my left was the river, stretched beyond my sight for who knows how many kilometers. However, the land around me was a blackened, barren wasteland devoid of all life. After standing, and looking about, I was greeted by a small imp that began to hop around me. "Hurray! You're up! You're up!"

I leaned forward to try and get a better look at the thing, but was surprised when it jumped and latched itself to my skull. "Gah!" I cried out, and removed the damn thing that was still very excited about something. The imp itself had a pale, copper-red complexion, and had a pair of fairly large wings which were about twice its own size when fully extended. The eyes were of gold in colour, while its iris was standard black and slitted like a cat's. The imp was without clothing, save for a dirty brown loincloth that barely covered what it tried to hide. There was also a pair of pointed ears alongside its head, much like an elf's, but it had a pair of small, ridged horns jutting out from its forehead. One other curious feat about it was the dagger-like spike of a tail, and its feet which were like its clawed hands.

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

"Imp," I grumbled at it, "What are you doing?"

The imp, which was trying to remove itself from my grasp, stopped for a moment before pointing at my skull. "You're up!"

"Uh-huh..." I had no more words for it, because at that time, more of its kind appeared around us. I did not enjoy their stares, but at least they moved out of my way when I began to make my way to the pier. "Where is this," I muttered half to myself, as I stared at the emptiness around us.

"River Styx," said a squeaking voice, which belonged to the imp still in my grasp.

"Will the ferryman come for me?" My question caused many, if not all, of the surrounding imps to shake their heads. "Then I must pay my respects."

You must be wondering why I did the latter. It is because I had grown fond of the tales of the Ferryman, and longed for its boat ride as my human body waned in health. For He is Death, come to take us all to our next journey. Whether it be for torment, another life, or eternal rest, all must step upon His boat before crossing the River Styx.

My actions seemed to startle the imps, and many tried to block my path in vain. I was determined, you see, to look upon the Ferryman at least once, and look upon Him I did. For as I stepped onto the pier, Him and His boat appeared, and I cupped my hands towards once such as He, saying, "Undead Karastak pays his respects to the Ferryman of the River Styx." The Ferryman Himself is, but a skeleton under a faded and tattered black robe. In His hands was naught, but a pole with which He steers His boat towards the Great Beyond. If one was to look close enough, one would see the glowing crimson eyes beneath the hood, but if only one would dare to do so.

My head was bowed as I said this, and I could feel His gaze upon my shoulders. It was a terrible feeling, to be sure, but at the same time, I was at peace with myself. It was strange, but the truth. 'RAISE UP THINE HEAD,' commanded a voice from within my skull, and I heeded it, but only saw small pinpoints of red beneath the faded hood. 'THOU ART OF THE LIVING, UNDEAD KARASTAK. THY TIME IS NOT NIGH, BUT SOON THOU WILT STEP UPON THY FINAL JOURNEY.' Once it finished with these words, a mist carried by soft winds blew in, and the Ferryman vanished from sight.

"Ahem," someone coughed behind me, and when I turned around, I saw the little-girl-who-was-not-a-little-girl standing behind me with an apologetic look upon her face. When I asked about it, she gave me a sheepish smile, "This one has come to apologise. You have not been given the full 'tutorial', as it were, and this one has come to rectify that." She clapped her hands together once, and we were back in the weird white space where we first met.

"As you have noticed, This one's world of Azzaroth does not have blue screens like all those other world you humans have gone to. You should know, there are no status reveals either. Instead, it shall be as though you are truly living in a world much like your own. This one sees you are confused," and I was, to be honest. How can their world be like our own, but before I could voice the question, she answered with, "Just like your own world, this one's does not have blue screens, or the like, popping up in one's face for every major action taken. However, we cannot speak for others." Her eyes drifted off to the right as she said this. When she looked back towards us, her sheepish grin appeared once more. "You see, Undead Karastak, this one's world is a go-between world for others. Once you have been judged worthy enough, gods of other worlds will summon you to their world in order to use you as their pawn for whatever task they deem necessary."

Her head was bowed as she continued with, "This one apologises. You will be summoned to another world once you have regained your body once more."