(3° person POV)

It was a sad day in the town of Blackwood. In the outskirts of the town, in the cemetery, a coffin I carried to a mausoleum as twenty people dressed in black mourn for the boy inside the coffin. However, all the eyes are not gathered in the coffin that is going down to the ancient catacombs. They are gathered in the family.

The oldest brother, is completely uninterested playing on a portable videogame. His bright blonde hair full of gel combed backwards, and his chubby body stuffed inside a black suit. His father is also looking disinterested and completely bored as he holds the hand of his daughter.

The little girl is the only one that seems to care about the boy in the coffin. Her blue eyes are swollen and red from crying, her pretty face with pale skin is stained with tears. Her long smooth, black hair is tied in a ponytail.

Her little left hand is holding her father’s, her right hand holding a bizarre plush bunny over her black dress. The creature is made of various types of cloth, with a small body with short limbs. The head is big and horizontally oval, and it has a big, evil grin with sharp teeth. The right eye is a X sewn and the left eyes is a black button.

The people looking at her have a clear sentiment of feeling sorry for the girl, since most of them are family and friends of the deceased 16 years old. And so, they know the situation of the house that he lived in, and how important the little girl was important to him.

Far away, on a small hill overlooking the ceremony, a limousine drives off after a few moments stationed there. Inside, a handsome boy with blonde hair cleans the sweat on his forehead. A mix of excitement, fear, power and euphoria filling his chest.

As he saw the coffin moments ago, what he had done finally downed on him. And he liked the sensation of power for what he had done. After all, the one in the coffin was his victim…

(Hours later, deep in the catacombs)

Inside a chamber in the deepest parts of the catacombs, sitting peacefully in the middle of the dust. However, there are no footprints on the dust indicating that someone laid this coffin down here. Also, the black coffin with a golden scythe on the lid is unnaturally big, bigger than when it entered these tunnels.

And, inside, it, something moves.

(Aleksander’s POV)

I woke up looking at red cloth. What the fuck happened? The last thing I remember is coming back from school from another shitty day being bullied without being able to fight back when I was cornered in an alley, and Brad, that little cocksucking motherfucker took something out from his pocket.

Next, he… stabbed me. Yeah, that’s it. I remember now. But how can I be alive? I remember feeling my blood soaking my clothes and my vision getting blurred, my body growing cold slowly as life escaped me. I died, I’m pretty sure of it.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

So, where am I right now? I try to move, only to find myself inside some kind of box. I raise my hands, touching the surface of the lid. I can’t see my hands, since I don’t have that much space to move. Um… the surface feels a little strange. It feels like my fingers are a little… numb, or like there is a cloth between my fingers and the surface.

I try to open it. Locked. Or nailed, I don’t know exactly. For some reason, I don’t feel panic in this situation, and considering that I’m someone quite emotional, this is completely abnormal. Also, I can’t see any source of light, but I can see in the dark with perfection.

I try the lid again, since I don’t want to die here. This time, it moves a little. It seems that the lids is actually locked, since nails wouldn’t allow it to move even a bit. I wonder if I can break the lock? Probably not, but it’s worth the try.

I pushed with all my strength… and the lid opens violently with a loud noise as the lock snaps. I look dumbfounded. I didn’t feel any resistance at all. I sit up, holding the edge of my former prison.

Something falls on my lap. I look down. On my legs, there is a book with a thick hard leather cover, that is completely black. I extend my hand to grab it when I notice something that freaked me out. My hands are bone!

Literally bones! Without muscles or skin, pure white bones!

….

I would freak out, but for some reason, I feel calm and composed. It’s strange, but I can’t seem to worry about my body’s state right now. After a few moments confused, I decide to leave this aside and get the grip of my situation right now.

I will need to put the events in order. Firstly, I’m dead for sure. This is undeniable. Judging by my surroundings, I’m on the catacombs. Not only that, judging by the broken stone coffins and the dust with the decaying walls, I’m on the deepest and oldest parts of the catacombs.

Now that I look around, the aren’t any footprints on the dust, indicating that nobody came here to place my coffin. And dude, this coffin is big. And ever weirder, my now skeleton body fit’s perfectly fine on it. I should be around 2,30 meters tall now.

Alright, let’s check this book. I take the book on my lad and open it. The pages are completely white, without nothing written on them. I touch the pages with my now bony fingers and get surprised as my fingertips leave behind red lines.

The lines get absorbed by the pages, disappearing. And then, an invisible hand started writing on the pages in a beautiful cursive letter.

Hello, Master.

Oh, it talks. Well, not talks, it writes, but you get the idea. Does it communicate by writing? Let’s try out. I touch the page with my right indicator, and then write:

What are you?

And it answered:

I am a grimoire, bound to you, my Master.

Grimoire… like in a magic book? Those in fantasy stories? No, priorities. I need to know what happened to me.

What happened to me?

Two hundred years ago, a necromancer was slain in these catacombs while trying to make the transition to an undead. He was killed, however, the ritual was indeed complete. With his body destroyed and soul erased, the necromancer could not complete the transformation.

Because of what happened with my previous Master, the catacombs were permanently closed, and no corpse was buried here ever again. As your body was brought inside with your soul still inside it, and with the magic still active, you were reborn as an undead.

What the fuck… like a lich or something like that?

What type of undead? I ask.

The spell used wasn’t a powerful spell, transforming the affected in a lesser type of undead that still has its soul. Because of that, Master will have to eat mortal souls to grow in power. At the moment, Master can be considered as a Skeleton Mage.

Skeleton mage huh. And devour mortal souls to evolve? What the fuck?

This all seems to be too surreal, however, it’s a fact that is happening. After all, I turned into a skeleton, so believing a magic book doesn’t seem to farfetched. So now, I must figure what I can do with my new body.

And I’m also curious about that mage thing. I guess that it’s time to start testing.