Fellow Bretheren

𝘛𝘢𝘱.

𝘛𝘢𝘱.

𝘛𝘢𝘱.

Once again, rain was all he heard.

𝘛𝘢𝘱.

𝘛𝘢𝘱.

𝘛𝘢𝘱.

This time, it was beautiful. This time, he reveled in the chance of hearing it again.

Was there rain in hell? The underworld? The reincarnation cycle?

The man doesn't know.

Still, he took the chance to hear it one more time, like an almost drowned man hungrily inhaling air desperately.

Yet, this time, the man didn't understand. This was clearing rain he was hearing, and yet...

It was hard to describe it, but if he had to choose words, those would be:

Distant. Vague. Foreign.

Sad.

'Why?' the man thought. 'There were feelings in the rain?'

As he thought so, suddenly, he saw color. It wasn't just the monotone color of black, no. It was various shades of black. As the man watched, more color was added to his eyes.

Gray. Dark gray. Even more various shades of gray.

'Okay,' the man thought. 'Not bright colors.'

Then, he saw it.

Rain.

Falling from the gray, dark, dim sky, they fell onto him and around him. Just like when he was dying.

'Wait,' the man thought. 'Was I not dying just now?'

Then, he realized what was wrong, as something brewed inside his chest. Once again, it was hard to describe. It was a foreign feeling-a feeling he had never felt before.

If he had to describe it, then it would be like a tugging feeling. Something was tugging at him, asking him for something. It was asking him to-

𝙎𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙚. 𝙃𝙚𝙡𝙥 𝙢𝙚. 𝘼𝙣𝙮𝙤𝙣𝙚. 𝙋𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚.

That's what the man thought he felt. So, he tried to get up.

Easier said than done, for the ground felt as if it was pulling him in, holding him back. However, the feeling inside him grew stronger and stronger.

It was begging him to get up. To wake up. To help it.

So, he forced himself to get up. As he did so, he heard cracks beneath him. Even so, he continued to get up.

The raindrops never stopped, and each fell into the crack beneath him, lodging itself into the dirt. Loosening it so he could rise.

And he did.

In just a matter of minutes, there was a loud 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘬, and the man finally sat up.

There, he saw a strange world unfolding in front of him.

...

It was in ruins.

Ruins upon ruins upon ruins.

Everywhere he looked, there were either ruins, rubble, trash, overgrown plants and grass, or just nature.

No matter where the man had looked, he didn't find anything here familiar. If he remembered correctly, he was dying at...

At...

'Hmm?' the man thought. 'I can't remember.'

He barely remembers a few things. Like when he was driving a car. Reading books. Playing video games.

The man didn't even remember the essential things, like his friends, his age, his family-if he had one, and even his own name.

As he tried to remember, the feeling inside him grew even more noticeable.

𝙃𝙚𝙡𝙥 𝙢𝙚. 𝙋𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚. 𝙋𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚. 𝙃𝙚𝙡𝙥 𝙢𝙚. 𝙋𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚. 𝙎𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙚. 𝘼𝙣𝙮𝙤𝙣𝙚. 𝙋𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚.

'Alright,' the man thought. 'I'll help you. Just wait.'

So the man rolled over, getting onto his knees and pressing his hands against the floor to get himself up-

'Hmm?'

He looked at his hands.

And they were bony.

No, they were bone.

No skin, no muscle, no tendons-just bone, albeit with a few cracks here and there.

As he stared at them, he saw a puddle just a few feet away nearby. Most likely formed from the rain happening right now. He crawled over, and he prepared himself as he looked into the puddle.

And he saw his reflection. A skeleton looked back at him, its eyes hollow and empty.

'Ah,' the man thought. 'I am dead.'

...

For a few seconds, the man-no, the skeleton looked at itself into the puddle.

Then, the skeleton-no, the man shrugged.

He got up-but midway he slipped on a small puddle beneath him. Falling down onto his butt, he instinctively tried to tense up.

But there was nothing to tense up for, for he had no muscles. Falling onto the stone hard ground, he expected pain, but he felt nothing.

There was no pain. He did strangely feel a small vibration going up his nice bony body, but otherwise, that's it. He then noticed that he wasn't feeling the raindrops falling onto his skeleton body. No, he did feel it, in a strange way, but it was a 𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘥 sound.

The man didn't feel the texture, or how wet the rain was. It was akin to something hitting on a rock. The rock doesn't feel it, but anyone nearby can hear a 𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘥.

The skeleton man let itself get drowned in the music that is rain. The endless splattering of raindrops falling onto-

𝙎𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙚. 𝘼𝙣𝙮𝙤𝙣𝙚. 𝙋𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚. 𝙃𝙚𝙡𝙥 𝙢𝙚. 𝙋𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚. 𝙋𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚.

'Oops,' the man thought.

He had forgotten about that strange feeling speaking to him.

'Well, it's about time to help the thing asking me.'

Right after, the skeleton got up, and in a couple tries, he finally stood up, albeit with a feeling that he stumbled here and there. As he looked around, he had come to realize something.

A problem much bigger than he had imagined.

A problem so large, that the skeleton man couldn't help but look to the dark, cloudy skies. Raindrops fell on him as he took a metaphorically deep breath, taking in the beautiful, dreary sight.

'...'

Who was he supposed to help?

As he thought of that, he suddenly heard cracking noises, as if rocks were falling apart, giving way to something next to him.

The skeleton man looked back, and he saw his fellow bretheren.

...

From the ground near him, four places in the dirt, rocky, grassy floor gave way. Holes in the ground formed, and from the holes, white bony fingers rose. As if they had planned it, from all four holes, a single hand came out at the same time. Gripping the edge near them, they pulled themselves up.

The holes grew even larger, and rocks and rubble fell away as the skeleton man took a step back.

Then, from the holes...four skeletons sat up.

Simultaneously-and almost robotically-they all pulled themselves up, albeit slowly. Although a few stumbled here and there, eventually, the skeleton man can finally, truly, observe them.

Just like him, they were...bone. Of course there were various differences. Like the overall size of their bodies; one of their spine was bent, one was large, and was at least seven inches taller than him-the skeleton man himself was 5'10.

One of them, along with the spine bended one, were shorter than him by several inches. The other one was similar to him, in terms of height anyways.

It probably had longer arms, but the skeleton man did not bother to get close to them.

Because they all stared at him. Their skulls, robotically, turned towards him at the same time. Then, they turned their bodies and marched towards him.

The skeleton man opened his mouth, but no voice came out. He waved his hands in front of them, trying to gesture that he meant peace.

Nevertheless, as if ignoring him, they slowly lumbered up to them in a robotic way, making him backpedal. They kept coming up to him, and as he was backing away, they suddenly veered off towards the left.

The skeleton man stopped backpedaling as he watched the four skeletons walk past him. They were walking towards somewhere off into the distance.

The skeleton man tilted his head, and after a moment of pondering, he walked behind them.

Perhaps they were like him.

Perhaps they were summoned for a purpose just like him.

Perhaps they heard the voice, and felt its call.

...

𝘛𝘢𝘱.

𝘛𝘢𝘱.

𝘛𝘢𝘱.

In the ruins, on the ground, puddles and mud formed. Along with the newly formed puddles, broken stone, rubble, wood, and several strange wool materials laid bare on the ground.

Left untouched for an innumerable amount of time, most of the materials have been degraded and decomposed. Rocks eroded, wood rotten, and the wool material dirtied with stains.

𝘛𝘢𝘱.

𝘛𝘢𝘱.

𝘛𝘢𝘱.

From the dark, gray sky, rain fell. They pitter-pattered, splattering against the ground, making the materials under the open sky almost unusable if they weren't already.

As the rain continued, suddenly, noticeable sounds of branches cracking, water splattering, and mud squishing were heard.

Between the broken houses, from a dark alleyway, five skeletons appeared.

𝘚𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘩.

𝘛𝘩𝘶𝘥.

𝘚𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘩.

𝘚𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘩.

Stepping on the mud and damp grass, the skeletons walked, unhurried. Each foot over the other, walking robotically, the skeletons walked towards an unknown destination.

At the back of the group, one of the skeletons was looking around.

They had been in the ruins for half an hour now, and the skeleton man came to a conclusion.

'It's just like a fantasy world.'

He would be a fool by now if he didn't come to that conclusion. If the skeletons weren't a good indication, then he doesn't know what is.

While they were walking, the skeleton man had taken the liberty to peek into the mostly standing houses.

In one of the houses, where a door was open, he walked inside. Looking around he saw that it was cold, damp, and dark. There are very small openings in the wall; small windows with wooden shutters.

The skeleton man wiped his thumb on a wooden table, dodging the ceramic cups, utensils, and plates. Raising his thumb to his face, there was a large amount of dust on it.

He wiped it off on a wall.

'No one had been here for a long, long time,' he thought.

Then he left, walking out the door, and returned back to his bretheren.

A long journey awaits them, perhaps

...

A journey it was, albeit long and short. The skeleton man doesn't know, for it varies.

For him, it was long, for they had simply been walking for less than half a day.

The skeleton man knows this, for he had counted.

The rain never stops, falling onto the seemingly lifeless world. Turns out, he had woken up in this world during the sunset, almost night time.

Day is when the dark clouds are a bit brighter, and the world around them, although dim, was still observable. The rain, although still cold, and the winds, less freezing, were weak.

Night is a different story.

Night is when the winds howled. Raging storms, blowing things everywhere. The cold, blistering rain falls heavily onto the ground. The world around them is almost pitch black.

The skeletons didn't care, and neither did he. Fortunately enough, the skeleton man had found out that they had night vision strangely enough.

He had also found out that there was no need to rest. No need to sleep. No need to eat or drink. No need to go to the restroom

Just...constantly and consistently walking.

If the skeleton man was being honest, he did expect it.

They were dead.

If they were able to come back to life, then they would be almost robotic without souls.

There was no need to rest.

And the skeleton man reveled in it, for it was something new.

Something exciting.

They were like fairies in the fairy tales, immortal and powerful.

Anyways, during the march, the skeleton man at one point felt as if he should've been bored by now.

Perhaps the rain, with its beautiful tempo, kept him happy. Perhaps him being a skeleton was a new and surreal experience indeed.

𝘋𝘳𝘪𝘱.

𝘋𝘳𝘪𝘱.

𝘋𝘳𝘪𝘱.

Even now, he couldn't get over the fact that he'll never be hungry nor thirsty, not being tired or sleepy.

...

It had been a few hours during the march. Like always, the rain continues to cry onto this world.

And the skeleton man enjoyed its music.

𝘛𝘢𝘱.

𝘛𝘢𝘱.

𝘛𝘢𝘱.

At one point, the group of skeletons walked out of what seems to be the commoners district, and out into an open clearing. Surrounded by houses all around, they came into view of a very large building.

Walking past the sides, the skeleton man saw beautiful, patterned carvings in the stone walls. Although they were eroded and cracked, he took the time to take in the sight.

Along with the patterns were the stained windows, where each one told a story. As it had been a long time, and the sky being dark and dim, the colorful stained windows looked gloomy and depressing.

In the end, he wasn't able to get a clearer look at the pictures in the stained glass.

After a few minutes of walking, they arrived at the entrance.

It was the entrance of what seems to be a large cathedral.

It really did stand out amongst the small houses around it, looking to be almost six to seven stories tall.

In the, the four skeletons ahead of him walked past it.

As the group walked past it, the skeleton man looked at the cathedral.

At midnight, in the rain its large, wide, wooden carved doors that looked to be two stories high were intimidating, along with the crumbled and broken statues standing ominously and the carved decorations on the stone walls cracked and eroded.

He felt there was something awful in there. Something about to wake up from its deep slumber.

As the skeleton man turned around, he heard a loud 𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘱. Looking back, the skeleton man saw the wooden doors shaking.

Without further adieu, he simply left, catching up with his fellow bretheren.

Safety in numbers. Safety in numbers.

...

Another couple hours had passed.

To be honest...when they were walking amidst the ruins, especially in the dark of night...the skeleton man felt a strange sense of giddiness. Like a thief in the night, he felt as if he could go wherever he wanted and take whatever he wanted.

It was a strange feeling-a feeling of freedom.

For example, inside one of the houses, there was a usable cloak with a hood. Taking it, he put it over himself. As he put it over himself, he noticeably saw how his body weighed down.

Perhaps the material was particularly thick.

'Probably wool,' the skeleton man thought.

Now he felt something cover him, he didn't feel as if he was naked or indecent.

Not that it really mattered.

Like the other skeletons, he was completely bone. Completely naked. Whatever muscle or meat was left was probably decomposed by now.

Especially 'down' there.

So he didn't need the cloak and hoodie at all.

Probably.

'Does water erode bones?'

Other than that, there was nothing eventful else other than marching along his fellow bretheren.

Somehow, the skeleton man felt safe with them.

His fellow, robot-like, speechless, emotionless bretheren.

Over the course of their march, he had tried to interact with them. Waving his hand in front of him, throwing rocks at them-they never stopped.

They only marched forward.

…

Another few hours had past, and the world lightened a bit more, and the howling winds and brittle rains lessened.

The skeleton man assumed it was becoming day.

After a while of marching with them, the skeleton man took the liberty to name them.

The large skeleton was Skeleton A.

The bent spine one was Skeleton B.

The one slightly shorter than him is Skeleton C.

The last one, the one similar to himself, is Skeleton D.

Skeleton E nodded to himself, rubbing his bone chin.

'Very creative and imaginative indeed.'

In fact, just in case if they somehow found out, have a personality, and really take it personal, he'll name himself Skeleton E.

'I'll just call them all that mentally,' Skeleton E thought.

As he trailed behind them, The feeling in his chest stirred once again, like a rope tugging him forward.

𝙋𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚. 𝙃𝙚𝙡𝙥 𝙢𝙚. 𝙋𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚. 𝙋𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚.

This time, it was much louder. More noticeable. More describable.

Skeleton E's hypothesis on Skeletons A-D knowing where the feeling is coming from is true.

Even now, he can feel the pull. The desire to go towards the feeling.

It was gradually harder to resist the more time passed, but Skeleton E was still in control of his body.

Alas, he still continued to follow his fellow bretheren skeletons.

...

The feeling grew more and more louder, like a child harassing their presents with complaints every two seconds.

It even outshone the lovely sound of rain, ticking Skeleton E off. As time passed, the feeling grew more and more noticeable.

Just as it was starting to reach the heights of true annoyance, Skeletons A, B,C, D stopped. They had almost simultaneously completely stopped-almost because they stood in a row. From Skeleton A, all the way down to Skeleton D, they stood face forward in a straight row.

In the rain, they stood, facing forward; like soldiers, waiting for orders.

Skeleton E joined them, walking beside Skeleton D. Standing in the row along with the others, he looked at what was in front of them.

The moment he did, the pressure, the strange feeling, the rope pulling him-they all disappeared.

It became silent; serene, peaceful.

Like the world had slowed to a crawl.

All the skeletons waited. They were waiting.

Skeleton E saw the reason why-or what he believes it to be.

Past the rain, in the crevice underneath two broken walls leaning onto each other, there was a long white-haired girl.