1 An Awakening

There was a never ending expanse of snow waxen clouds. But that was it. There was no background to offset this expanse of white. There were no skies, no suns, no moons, no stars. There was merely an endless white that bled off into more colorless clouds. An unfinished canvas, stilled and forever lifeless.

He had been stuck in this same old dream for what seemed to be an eternity and more. In this dream, or rather nightmare, he had only one of his senses to work with. There was only sight. He could not feel anything, not even his own body, if it even existed. He could not hear a single sound, if it even existed. Silence was his only companion. Even the only sense that worked betrayed him. What was sight if nothing ever moved nor changed? It seemed to him that the only color he had known was no color at all.

Such thoughts led him to doubt his own existence. Was he even alive? Was this death? As he lay there floating silently, he contemplated once more for perhaps the thousandth time. Was this truly a dream? Or was this finality? A death that seemed to never end? Was he dead or alive? Or perhaps he was stuck in between beginning and end.

Time passed in his white stillness. Slowly or quickly he knew not, but he did know that time passed. He drifted aimlessly among these still clouds, unable to control where he went. Likewise, his memories slowly but steadily diminished. Just what was his name again? Did he ever had one to begin with?

'This is what a rock probably feels like,' he thought to himself.

Days, months, years, decades, or perhaps centuries. Time passed by inexorably. It was an unstoppable force which he had no control of.

Then, just as he had lost all hope of escape, a change began. He did not feel the change. Instead, he saw it. The merest of movements had begun among one of the smaller clouds beside him. This small beginning soon gave birth to greater changes, greater movements.

The white expanse that was his background began moving, stirred into life. The colorless clouds soon began to peel away into an expanse of black. Now, he found himself in darkness, a darkness that was lit by the light in front of him. A light that seemed like the sun.

As if revitalized by that light, his other senses awakened. He could smell again. He could smell an aroma that was at once familiar to him. An aroma of dust, death, and terror. The smell of decay seemed to be from himself. But the fear, however, came from the two figures before him.

He could hear the figures in front of him speaking and soon retreating, taking with them their light. The light seemed to come from the strange device one of them held.

"It…it's alive!" the figure yelled in retreat, his voice somewhat faltering.

From his blurred memories and sight, he made the figure out to be distinctly male. Yes, he was sure of it. The other one, however, seemed to be female, the distinct curves of her body being undeniable despite the thick leather armor she wore.

"Ww..what the hell is an undead doing here?" The female said, her voice a shaky whisper.

He did not understand the words that had been said, but he could feel that he knew the words, the articulation of their sounds being familiar but distant to his dulled mind.

Another sense awakened inside him. It came from a deeper and more primal part of him. He no longer needed to see to know of the two figures--no, the two intruders. He could sense their fear, the fear in their eyes, and the deeper fear inside. And their warmth. But most of all, their warmth.

And desire welled up inside him. He longed for their warmth.

Silence reigned for the briefest of moment before he burst into motion. And before he even realized what he was doing, his mind emptied and instinct took over. He rushed toward the two intruders who looked almost frozen to his sight. He found himself at the throat of the leading intruder who was quickly trying to draw his weapon, but fumbling it in his terror.

Then he found himself leeching the warmth away, not through his mouth, but through his hands. His right hand had lodged itself in the throat of the male intruder. He could hear the soft throat bones give way with a slight crunch. Soon enough, he quickly absorbed all his blood. Along with the rush of blood came the hazy and fragmented memories of the intruder. His instinct controlled mind quickly shelved the memories away, lest they distracted him.

It took but a few seconds before the warmth died away into a still coldness. The male intruder's corpse dropped to the dusty floor with a soft thud.

He shivered as a long lost ecstasy surged throughout his body. His shriveled yet still powerful body was being revitalized by the lifeblood, but he knew he could not dwell upon it.

To his side, he could see the female intruder's mouth gasping in horror as she built up to a scream. But there was no forthcoming scream. The fear had frozen her into stillness and locked her muscles into place as if by magic. She wanted to escape, but her legs would not move. She could not even draw the dagger by her waist. She was merely prey waiting to be devoured.

Before the lantern that the male intruder had been holding onto could even settle properly onto the ground, he was upon the throat of the female figure, grasping her warmth. He had stabbed his entire hand through her throat and easily lifted her up as if she was a small doll. It took no longer than an instance before he had fully drained her, the light in her eyes fading away. Once more, the rush of memories came, only to be shelved away just as quickly. He retracted his arm and her body fell to the ground with a thud.

Lifeless forever. Just like his dream.

The atrophied muscles in his legs and arms expanded and tightened as the stolen blood revitalized them into power. His previously still heart now thumped furiously against his chest. Like a desert that had not seen rain in centuries, his whole body had greedily devoured the blood.

He let loose a howl from the primal depths of his heart, the intensity of it making the chamber rock walls shake. His voice almost seemed akin to a small earthquake.

I am alive! His howling seemed to say. As his deranged howling ended, his mind returned to him. Jumbled memories of the two intruders flashed through his mind. They were members of a city. They were humans. And they also had names. Lakas and Shura.

A twinge of a feeling tore through his mind. It was akin to an imaginary itch he could not scratch. What it was, he could not tell. The feeling annoyed the bestial part him. He decided to ignore it for now.

'Am I human?' He thought to himself. 'Do I have a name? What is my name? He couldn't remember. He couldn't remember anything.' His past memories were blank to him.

The two intruders had called him an undead, a perversion of life reanimated. He was, however, certain that he was no mere undead. He could feel it deep down that he was something more. But what he was, he was not sure.

"Just what am I?" He whispered to himself. "Who am I?"

But no reply came forth. Not from the two shriveled corpses beside him, slowly bleeding away whatever little blood was left inside. Not from the black stone coffin that laid solemnly on top of the altar he had once slumbered inside. Not from the circular chamber he stood in, bereft of any hints of his past life. There was only the familiar comfort of dust, darkness and death.