The world around him was still and quiet. This calmness however, was ripped from him as quickly as it was granted. The chaos returned, along with the emotions that consumed him. The fear and terror, the loss and grief, the anger and rage all coalesce back into his self before being taken from him. What was left now was a shell.
The shell opened his eyes to a mournful scene. A decrepit room devoid of any source of light filled his vision as the stench of brunt hair attacked his nostrils. Beside him the furniture lay smashed into rumble as the very foundation of the home cracked under the pressure of what had just transpired.
The shell noticed not far from from where he stood the bodies of two women, one adult and one child lay at his feet, their blood still warm as it pooled. All of a sudden the perfect shell cracked a little and all those emotions remerged. However before they could fester and rot him again they disapated, like small grains of sand following through his fingers. They were lost as was he.
The blood which had long overflowed was calm enough to see his own clear reflection. He was tall, around 6 foot 7 inches, and had grey messy hair. His eyes matched his hair and his features were sharp, handsome and a little roguish. His figured was lean and sturdy while not coming across as broad.
He began to move making way for the door all the while with a indifferent expression on his face. Just as he was about to leave he hesitated, he felt something. It wasn't a physical feeling more like a sensual one. He turned and gazed at the farming instrument laying haphazardly on the ground. It's blade was dull and chipped, it's handled uneven and crude, yet this tool...
He walked back into the hellish like room, ignoring the bodies and headed towards the scythe. He picked it up and held it in is hands. It felt familiar, as did the room he found himself in.
'This one isn't ready yet.' He thought to himself. With no more distractions, he turned and left, afterall he had more important things to do.
Outside the cold autumn breeze brushed his skin. Most would feel a chill, yet he remian unperturbed. His gazed swept what appeared to be a village in ruins. Large amounts of grey smoke danced across the horizon as the triplet moons hung lazily in the midnight sky.
This place was dead, that was beyond obvious to any surveyor. The concept of survivors never crossed the mind as the destruction was absolute. All the homes of what had once been this villagers community lay as ash and debris. Only this house, the one he emerged from lay somewhat standing.
He felt that same feeling again. It was like someone was connecting something to him, binding him. He gazed where he felt this connection. His gazed landed on a collapsed roof and after a few moments, movement could be seen. Slow at first but with some time a figure could be seen, sluggishly rising to its feet.
The creature was composed entirely of bleached white bones and stood at around 6 feet. In its eyes a dark but visible purple hue could be observed. Much like the shell had gazed at it, it too gazed back. Their eyes meet...
The moving pile of remains gradually meandered close enough to touch him. All the while the shell face never moved, he did not fear this creature, he had no reason to. They both had the same purpose, and while different in forms they both were of the same kind.
The skeletal figure slowly bent down before resting on one knee. This was its show of respect, the same as a man to its lord, or even a child to a parent. The shell nodded slightly and beckoned his comrade to rise. They stood again shoulder to shoulder overlooking the grim horizon.
The shell took this opportunity to think and ponder. He had many unanswered questions and up to this point had been acting on instinct. One thing was clear to him, he knew his purpose for existence. What he failed to grasp was why...
Although almost everything that even vaguely resembled emotions were gone, that miniscule crack remained. He was not supposed to question, he was meant to act and only act, yet those queries ate away at his thoughts. Even if he knew what he had to do, actually achieving his objective wouldn't be easy nor quick. Perhaps his questions may lead to awnsers whixh could in turn better the outcomes ahead.
Aside from why, the biggest question he had was what to do next. He was not powerful he could feel that much. Even a lowly wild beast could be his demise, thus he had to uncover a way to increase his strength.
His friend all the while looked up at the various stars in the sky. Its empty eye sockets beheld the infinite heavens and rather than being inspired or frightened, it felt fascinated...
"Enough." He finally said, as he remembered the sensation from before. As if by some sort of instinct he forced the same sensation from before, this time aimed at his wrecked surroundings. A moment past and nothing changed. Despite this the shell did not doubt himself, and a few moments later his instincts were justified as movement began.
It started small at first before spreading like a infectious virus. Hands, feet, limbs and heads appeared from the devastated hamlet. 2, 6, 10, 24, 35, the numbers increased rapidly. They were in no way uniform, many of these abominations were distinct in appearance, nevertheless upon freeing themselves they all uniformly moved in similar motion. They formed neat rows each standing side by side and when they all gathered they all kneeled low before their master.
The shell looked at this and felt the smallest bit of satisfaction as something terrible began. For he could feel it, that sensation did not always require his will. He could sense dozens? Hundreds? Thousands? In front of him was a mere 62, the rest were scattered far and wide but despite this, their link persisted. They would gather for him, for he was their king, their master, their savior.
A twinge of excitement this time followed through him. An excitement of something new and revolutionary. This was a genesis, a genesis for the dead.