As the red gem lights up - life is born.

Bones gather around the magical gem, reconstructing a shape which these random scraps have long since lost.

After long hours of mumbo-jumbo magic, the bones manage to recreate a humanoid skeletal form. An impressive feat, considering there’s no guarantee that all these bones originally belong to the same creature.

Huh...?

The skeleton’s consciousness slowly wakes up, practically from thin air. He looks around in a daze, unsure of what is expected of him.

The scene he sees is covered by odd white lines as if someone put wool over his eyes. However, the lines become thinner and thinner, until they completely disappear. Now he can clearly examine his surroundings.

The place of his birth is grim and ugly. There is dirt, mud, and darkness as far as he can see. The only inhabitants are skeletons like him and some bossy, disgusting boar-faced humanoids: Orcs.

“C’mon ya brainless fag, move yo damn ass!”

One such boar face barks at the skeleton. With nothing better to do, the skeleton slowly steps toward the bossy scum in front of him.

A rusty blade is shoved into his right arm and a broken shield into his left. There is no explanation, the skeleton gazes in confusion at the two heavy objects in his hands

This is heavy... can I drop this...?

CLACK

The sound of metal hitting the ground. The skeleton looks at his own hands; he’s still holding the two objects.

The one who dropped his sword was some other skeleton to his left. Rather, that guy’s whole arm fell onto the ground, still holding the blade.

“Ya useless skull brain!”

A furious orc barks at the skeleton who has just lost his arm. The orc then follows up by hitting the skeleton with a hammer, kicking him and effectively returning him to his former state: a pile of bones.

The beaten skeleton’s kicked skull flies far, landing beside the newly born skeleton.

I think I’ll carry these things after all...

He tightens his grip on the heavy objects as he gazed at the detached skull lying in front of him. He has no idea what’s going on, but he can tell that he doesn’t want to share this guy’s fate.

So what now...?

He looks around and sees nobody who could instruct him. The boar-faced scums are too busy handing swords and shields to other newborn skeleton soldiers, they don’t pay any attention to him.

WOOSH

The scenery in front of the skeleton suddenly shifts. A ruby colored fog covers the area and makes everything hazy. The area in front of him quickly zooms in, then continues onward to show parts that he clearly can’t see from his current location.

The spectacle ends once the skeleton sees a huge army of standing in rows. The red fog disperses in an instant and the world returns to normal.

Was this a navigation system...?

Though a bit reluctant, his legs begin to move in the same direction that he saw in the foggy vision. He can intuitively tell that the vision is some sort of hint about what he should do; following the vision should be beneficial.

He walks. And walks. And walks.

This looked way closer...

When he was shown the vision, his destination appeared in front of him in a couple of seconds. Yet in reality, even after a few good minutes of walking he still can’t reach it.

He walks. And walks. And walks.

Eventually, he reaches his destination. Countless skeletons are spread in front of his empty eye sockets. He slowly walks toward a pack of skeletons, there’s nothing better to do anyway.

He stops in front of a skeleton soldier, who stands frozen in one spot. He examines the soldier for a couple of seconds, then decides to ask a question.

What are we supposed to do...? CLACK CLACK CLACK

The soldier doesn’t respond.

Heeey, do you hear me? CLACK CLACK CLACK

Still no response. All he ever heard was a clacking sound.

It hit him in the very next moment.

Can I even speak...?

The orcs he saw before could produce words from their mouths. Yet, only random clacks resounded when he spoke, those of his jaws striking against each other.

He can’t do words.

No wonder they are all just standing here without doing anything...

No matter where he looks - everything is frozen. Tens, hundreds, or perhaps thousands of skeletons are just standing in place, without budging. He can’t even tell whether they are “alive”, or whichever term benefits undead creatures like him.

He also finds himself standing. Just standing. With nothing to do, with nobody to interact with and without any idea what the heck is going on.

After a prolonged wait, the red fog appears in front of him again. This time, it zooms upwards, toward a tall tower and onto a grim figure: a fearsome knight clad in black armor from head to toe.

The fog disappears and all skeletons turn their attention upwards, toward the black knight standing on the top of an extremely tall tower.

I only see a black dot...

When zoomed through the fog, the black knight appeared huge, strong and intimidating. Yet from this far, the armored man looks like no more than a tiny, harmless fly. The skeleton can’t feel anything about this knight, who probably intends to be their commander.

The black knight starts giving a passionate, impressive speech from the top of the tower. No doubt he is explaining important matters, such as the army’s goal. But...

“YOU... MY... AND...”

I can’t hear anything from here. This is the worst presentation ever...

Only random words reach the skeleton from the top of the high tower. The whole speech is practically wasted, with nobody on the ground level being able to hear its contents.

The speech continues on and on and on and on and on and on.

Is he done yet...?

The skeleton looks around him, to see who else is as bored as him. To his surprise, all other skeletons keep their heads raised and gaze at the tower with their nonexistent eyes.

Can I just go somewhere else or something?

He scans the area around him. Multiple orcs are stationed at the outskirts of this pointless gathering, possibly guarding the area. They all carry huge hammers and axes, which they’d no doubt unleash at any skeleton they don’t fancy; he witnessed such an event earlier.

Okay, let’s hang around here for a little longer...

He turns around and looks toward the tower again. The desire to leave succumbs, for now.

At some point, the scattered words from the pointless speech come to an end. A red fog appears in front of the skeleton and shows him a vision.

What...?

He sees a blade striking against a shield. Over and over and over.

LA LA LA LA

A pretty sound plays out whenever the blade hits a shield, making the action appear like the most entertaining activity in the world.

CLACK CLACK CLACK

The sound of metal clashing with metal. It grows stronger and stronger, as all skeletons start striking their blades against their own shields.

What am I doing...?

He, too, follows the example he was just shown.

CLACK

He strikes the rusty blade in his right hand against the half broken shield in his left hand... for some reason.

CLACK CLACK

He continues to do it again and again, like an addict.

CLACK CLACK CLACK

No, seriously... what am I doing?

He looks around him and sees everybody repeating the same action. The clashing sounds resonate and echo throughout the whole area; a loud triumph

CLACK CLACK CLACK

Just stop... can I stop? Please...?

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

His bone hands don’t listen, they continue striking and striking.

CLACK CLACK CLACK

The noise of clashing metal just grows thicker and louder, so much that he almost gets an impossible headache from it.

They lied to me...! This sounds awful

The sound produced by the clashes is nowhere as pretty as the “La la la” he heard in the foggy vision. Thoroughly fed up, he puts his everything into one thought: STOP THIS THING!

His arms tremble in midair, then submit to his command. He lowers his arms and halts all motion.

CLACK CLACK CLACK

Other skeletons keep producing the horrendous sound for whole minutes until the red fog appears again. Everybody lower their arms and gaze at the scenery that is channeled into their consciousness.

This time the vision acts as a navigator, showing a long road. A very long road. A road that just doesn’t end.

Do we have to walk all this way...?

If the previous traveling vision is anything to go by, a journey depicted in the fog is at least a hundred times faster than reality. Just thinking about this tremendously long journey makes the skeleton want to die again.

By the end of the long long long road finally appears a new scenery. Wooden buildings can be seen. Going a bit further reveals some humanoid creatures, the inhabitants of a village.

BUZZ

The scene changes abruptly: A human woman is displayed on the foggy screen. Then, a blade appears and the woman is stabbed in the stomach.

She makes some extreme expression and yells: “YES! GIVE ME MORE!”. She is then stabbed over and over again.

What...?

The scene changes again. This time a human man is seen standing with his back facing the skeleton. A blade appears again and the man is slashed from behind. The man collapses and yells loudly: “I LOVE THIS!”.

What am I watching...?

The scenes keep rapidly changing one after one.

Stab them in the chest. Slash their backs. Cut off their limbs. Strike their heads. Stab their legs. Slash their legs. Kill men. Ravage women. Slaughter children.

The same types of scenes are tirelessly played over and over. Though he is only a spectator, the skeleton gets absorbed in the displayed events.

His arms make small movements back and forth as if replicating the displayed examples. By looking around he learns that he isn’t the only one mimicking the actions.

These acts of murder and slaughter aren’t just displayed - they are imprinted into his bones. He can practically feel himself slaying all these humans with his very hands.

But it’s hard to feel guilty. In all the scenes the dying humans make strange expressions, yet shout words of pleasure.

“OH YEAH!” “SLASH ME! I LOVE SLASHES!” “STAB ME TO DEATH! YEEEAH!!!”

Watching their reactions gives the impression that being attacked by a blade is the embodiment of heavenly pleasure. It is so delightful that humans just can’t get enough of these sensations. Clearly, the skeletons must deliver this pleasure to all humans!

Is this really how it works...?

He can’t put his finger on it, but something about these visions seems unnatural. The shouted words of the dying humans don’t seem to align properly with their expressions. On top of that, he just has this tingling feeling that being stabbed with sharp metal isn’t that fun.

He slowly averts his attention from the foggy vision that continues to play in his consciousness. Instead, he eyes the skeleton soldier standing in front of him.

Will he enjoy this...?

He slowly raises his blade and pokes the soldier’s spine.

No reaction.

Unsatisfied, he tries to poke the soldier a few more times. In the spine, in the ribs, in the butt - nothing works. The soldier doesn’t seem to care in the slightest, he is absorbed in the displayed scenes of human murder.

The skeleton slowly lowers his sword, but then notices something peculiar: a body part that isn’t white. Inside the soldier’s chest, through his white ribs, a glowing red gem can be seen.

What is this?

He tries to examine his own body but doesn’t find the same body part. He looks around and sees that everybody else have it.

Maybe I should try poking that...?

He aims his sword at the small gem in the soldier’s chest and thrusts the blade as he was instructed by the examples. The sharp tip hits the red gem and shatters it.

CLACK

The soldier in front of him suddenly collapses into a pile of bones.

I... think it was a bad idea...

He instinctively understands that he has just killed a fellow undead.

N-nothing to see here!

He panickedly looks around him, to see if anybody is watching his misdeed. Gladly, all the gathered goons are too absorbed in the foggy scenes.

Phew...

He quickly withdraws his arm, as if nothing ever happened. He directs his attention at the fog again, pretending to be a good, obedient skeleton soldier.

The scenes continue with more slaughter and more killing, as well as humans crying in pleasure. Eventually, the murdering stops and new examples begin pouring into the skeleton's consciousness. Now the skeleton sees examples of using a shield.

Blocking swords. Blocking lances. Blocking axes. Blocking fireballs. Blocking fireballs. Blocking more fireballs. Lots and lots of examples of blocking fireballs.

Yikes, I wouldn’t want to be hit by that.

The sheer amount of examples of fireballs make him fear these shiny floating balls. Can his sorry excuse for a shield properly protect him...?

Paranoid about the possibility of being hit by a fireball, he averts his eyes from the fog. In front of him still lays the pile of bones of the soldier he accidentally poked to death.

Maybe if I had more shields...

He intently eyes the shield lying beside the dead bones. Having more shields should provide more protection.

I can borrow this, right?

Surely the owner wouldn’t mind, not in his current state.

The skeleton slowly creeps toward the bones, puts down his half-assed excuse of a shield and picks up the new shield. He takes a few seconds to study his new loot.

The new shield is hardly better than his first, but at least it should provide some protection. It also has a worn out leather belt hanging on its back, for unknown functionality.

How do I carry this?

He can’t carry two shields and a sword with just two hands, he must place the newly obtained shield elsewhere. He scans around him and studies the anatomy of other soldiers, to better understand his own.

He notices that not all skeletons carry swords. Some of them carry bows instead, with a quiver of arrows hanging on their backs. The shield he picked has a big belt hanging on it, which probably could be used to hang the shield across his chest.

The skeleton gives it a shot and wears the shield. He clumsily puts the belt across his back and puts the shield over his chest; he dims it more practical to have protection from the front. He successfully wears it, but...

I can’t see anything...

Something is off. He clearly put the shield against his chest, way below his skull and empty eye sockets. Yet he can’t see anything as if the shield covers his eyes.

He rotates the shield across his body and brings it toward his back. His line of sight clears up, as he suspected. He then brings his left hand toward his chest and waves a few times, finally confirming that his “eyes” are residing within his chest.

He focuses his attention a little more and notices that he can vaguely see his chest’s bones, hanging right in front of him. However, this constant display seems to be automatically filtered out on regular basis.

Without being too bothered by the revelation, he picks up his other shield and quickly returns to his spot. He resumes watching the ruby fog, where blocking lessons are still in session.

The examples continue for a while and eventually come to an end. The spectacle ends and the fog immediately disperses.

So what now?

Though he asks that, his legs move around. He and all other skeletons turn to the left and start walking forward.

Oh, right. We gonna walk all that way now.

He walks as part of the army, with his legs moving based on imprinted orders. It’s convenient that he doesn’t need to actively order his legs to move. He also doesn’t seem to suffer from fatigue no matter how long he walks. Yet...

This is so boring. These guys are walking like zombies.

All the soldiers just mindlessly move forward. They don’t try to interact with anybody, they don’t even look around. They just walk forward as they were ordered, like obedient, trained sheep.

He looks to his left, beyond the column of soldiers. Wide plains stretch as far as he can see, seemingly boundless.

I wonder what’s over there.

He has already seen everything there was to see about the current road. The whole path was displayed in detail for the army’s journey; all that awaits him on this road is to experience the same landscapes again.

What he saw was a boring, long road with hardly anything to look at. Only after hours, perhaps days, of traveling he’d reach something a little more interesting: a human village. Just thinking about this tedious travel makes him want to drop dead.

Can I just leave?

He looks around. There are white skulls everywhere, he can’t spot any boar faced scumbag. Surely these zombie soldiers couldn’t care less about him doing as he pleases, they are all brain dead.

He decides to leave.

Despite his intentions, his legs continue to move forward along the road. He orders them to change directions, but they are spellbound by the orders imprinted on them.

C’mon! Move left! LEFT!

He fights against the orders imprinted on his body. He has done so before and was victorious, surely he can do it again. It took a dozen of minutes, but eventually, he breaks free from the spell.

He turns left and sneaks through the rows of the walking zombies. Some of them bump into him, but none of them react in any way; they just keep trying to go forward. He also ignores them and continues to wiggle his way into the open plain.

Freedom!

He finally escapes the dense pack of soldiers and steps into the open plain. In front of him lays the unknown, which looks by far more inviting than some boring journey with a bunch of zombies.

He happily walks toward the distant fields, excitement fills his bones with every step he takes.

“Hey ya! Watcha doin’, eh!?”

Huh!?

He freezes in place.

The hoarse voice filled with anger is no doubt that of some ugly orc. The skeleton slowly turns around toward the speaker.

“Where are ya goin’, eh!?”

A boar faced orc quickly approaches the skeleton, with a big axe in his arms. The orc is evidently furious and is tightly gripping the metal axe in his hands.

He gonna...!

He saw this pattern before.

He saw how an angry orc mercilessly struck down a skeleton as if it was nothing.

The same will happen to him. The orc will strike him with the axe, will kick him and will reduce him to a pile of motionless bones.

This is dangerous. I need to...

He nervously tightens his grip on his blade.

He saw countless similar scenes. Whenever a human approached with a weapon - it was the time to strike. He has never done it before, yet the act of stabbing and slashing enemies has been drilled into his bones countless times.

The orc, though way more ugly, is humanoid in nature. Surely all the slaughter experiences imprinted into the skeleton’s body will be effective against humans and orcs alike.

The orc is just a couple of meters away. There is not enough time to think this over.

I-it’s fine... he’ll just enjoy this, right? Same as humans enjoyed being massacred...!

He thrusts his blade before the orc makes his move.

The rusty sword digs into the orc’s unprotected stomach.

“G-GAHHHHHH!!!”

A roar of agony resounds. The orc cries in pain from the piercing blow.

W-what is this...?

Scared of the reaction the skeleton retreats a few steps, horrified of the scene.

This reaction is nothing like the scenes he saw. Pleasure? That’s the word farthest from describing this reaction!

“YA SKULL BRAIN! I’LL TEAR YA APART!!!”

The orc shouts in anger and lifts his big axe. His face is twisting from pain and fury, he is going to strike until nothing is left.

I need to... I need to attack... I need to attack!

He swings his blade at the orc and slashes the orc’s defenseless throat. Despite his panic and shock, the action came naturally to him, as if he has been practicing it for years.

“Gaahh!!”

The orc howls in pain and collapses on the ground. He wails in pain as he slowly dies; there is nothing delightful or pleasant about being ravaged by a blade.

The skeleton’s arms tremble as he watches the dying orc. The hoarse groans continue to echo inside the skeleton’s consciousness, even after the orc falls silent.

I... I need... I need to go...

He panickedly looks around him. The brainless army of skeletons pays no heed to his actions and no orcs can be found in sight.

He turns his back at the army and quickly walks away.

Away from the army of zombies. Away from the ugly boar faced orcs.

He walks toward the unknown, where he hopes to attain freedom and to find a purpose for his existence.