"To forget one's memories is to lose one's self."

-Unknown

"Death is but the still of life."

-The Traniden Butcher

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It heard something in the depths of the cave it resided, It knew not the names or types sounds it heard, only it did. The skeleton rose from the pile of rotting corpses and bone like a messiah of death. Its existing curiosity still enflamed by the strange things it saw earlier. 

It moved through the labyrinth cave step-by-step, noise becoming louder and further defined upon approach. Faint light glowed dimly around a corner and it peeked part of itself around the corner, reminiscent of a poor child hugging the edge of a wall, watching something amazing with innocent fascination and wonder that its breath would catch, only to be caught in its stupor by a person travelling by, confronting the child, causing it to instinctively run away without knowing why. 

The black orbs danced and glistened in the dim light similar to black fairies giggling as the played minor pranks on unsuspecting victims sleeping peacefully, Its jaw moved slightly as if trying form words with its lack of tongue and lips. The skull pressing hard enough on the stone an onlooker might consider an indenture would be left in the face of both the jagged corner and creature. 

Seconds passed as the sole sound besides the constant dripping of water to stone was the fading whimpers of a man attempting to rationalize and come to terms with the change of the tide in events. 

In those seconds the lake of blood dyed the beautiful and shining wheat colored hair with rivers of crimson death. Already her skin lost the luster of life much similar to the eyes. Almost like a sea of blood, snow, and leather were sprawling out across the uneven crevices of the floor. It was, alluring to the skeleton that

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

It was, alluring to the skeleton's curiosity. It, though it had no way to express such thoughts or properly acknowledge them, wanted to touch her. The few thoughts such a low mind could create led it to the moments of bliss in the sky, To what it reached out for. 

Unknowing what would happen, the skeleton left its stone perch and approached the living and dead.

Joqh held his eyes shut, refusing to accept it more and more, that it was all a tragic dream or creation from his phobia and not truly in his reality. Thus in his self-delusional muttering, he did not hear the skeleton approaching until a sick slap from the skeletons foot into the blood did he register it.

His eyes shot open blooded and fearful, his breath caught and his eyes burned with the white structure now hunching over his colleague's corpse. He froze for moments, almost like a prison in his own flesh as he watched the skeleton brushing her hair like one would treat a prized possession.

A roar echoed into the cave, the Mitocrasis had made its move. However, to Joqh it sounded like it was coming from further within the dark territory, not out, so he began running weaponless like a gazelle fleeing the shadow of death that was a cheetah on the African Savannah. Bounding around the corners for minutes, his footing somehow never catching as if a god watched out for him these psychologically destructive moments. 

However the skeleton had not noticed the man, nor if it did would it care. The open eyes drilled holes into the skeleton that hovered over. Its hands continuing to brush away the hair.

Then it did something inexplicable. It put its forehead to hers. It stayed like that for minutes, maybe hours. If an onlooker would have seen, it looked like a tragedy, not of hate, but love. It felt like reading Romeo and Juliet.its arms cradled her skull and it began to rock slightly.

And the mark began to glow. It must be noted the mark has always glowed blue. This time it was red. Bue is the color of mana and life, and red is easy to connect as its contrasting term.

Thoughts rushed into its tiny mind. It saw her mother cooking, over a wooden fire, soup on a cold winter morning, her father walking into the hut, carrying fresh game, each with a sole arrow through the eye or possible heart. Hugs and kisses were given by both mother and daughter. It saw her grow up into the women she became. Her mother teary-eyed as she set off into the world, her father gifting his hunting dagger and bow with a quiver of arrows. It felt her excitement at the sight of the first true city she'd seen. It felt her hopes and aspirations. It felt her love, kindness, and loneliness. It felt her and gained her entirety.

Not that it understood any of it. Unlike what most would think, these memories and residual pieces sent the skeleton into chaos. It ripped its head from her skull and opened wide its jaw, an invisible scream wrenched out from within its bones. 

The Mitocrasis roared, and the skeleton felt pain from the bond, and in its warped state far beyond anything the skeleton had ever been, it crawled to its mother, it's partner of mind and soul. It felt fear for the first time. 

Very impressive, for a skeleton that is.