There was nothing. Blackness everywhere. Death was peaceful. Nice even. No feelings. No emotion. No pain. Not even a body to muck it all up. Yet it was lonely as well. The blackness didn't talk. It wasn't your friend. Your family, or what passed for one, didn't greet you in the dark. All those religious pricks had gotten it wrong. There was nothing after death. Nothing at all. Only the blackness and an acute awareness of everything that was missing here. If the being could have cried, it might have. The loneliness was crushing it. It wasn't even aware of who or what it was missing. All it knew was that it couldn't handle all this loneliness.
"YOUNG ONE." A voice bellowed through the void. Maybe it was bellowing. The being couldn't be sure. Perhaps it was merely speaking. "IT IS NOT YOUR TIME YET. YOU ARE TETHERED TO LIFE BY UNHOLY MAGIC." A shape began to form before the being. It was a muscular male with bright red skin. Golden eyes missing an iris or a pupil dominated a face lacking any other features. The lower body of the being disappeared into a red wisp. The wisp curled off into the darkness. The eyes looked over the being. They almost appeared to be confused. Sad as well if that were possible. "YOU DO NOT EVEN REMEMBER WHO YOU ARE. LET ME ENLIGHTEN YOU."
The god-like being reached down to touch the other being. As the red fingers brushed against the outer bits of the glowing ball, knowledge flooded into it. Memories, identity, a sense of belonging came with the knowledge. The being felt once more a sense of self. Masha had been her name in life. She'd done some terrible things. She'd also done some amazing things. She'd met many people. Masha had killed a few and saved others. People had been left behind when she died. The being before her chuckled softly. "YOU ARE NOT DEAD, MASHA DYMONREL"
Masha's ball turned to the being in confusion. How did this not qualify as dead? "YOUR CREATORS TETHERED YOU TO THE LAND OF THE LIVING WITH UNHOLY MAGIC. THIS IS A LAND OF INBETWEEN. A PLACE CREATED FOR THOSE IN TRANSITION." Masha wished she had a brow to furrow. If she wasn't dead, wasn't dying and was held in the land of the living, why was she in the land of transition? The being stroked a beard that appeared upon its face. "I DREW YOU HERE, MASHA DYMONREL. THE UNHOLY MAGIC HOLDING ONTO YOU IS NO MATCH FOR YOUR PASSION. THAT PASSION BROUGHT MY ATTENTION TO YOU. I WISH TO GIVE YOU A CHOICE."
"A choice?" Masha croaked. Despite lacking a throat, she somehow managed to speak. An interesting change of pace. She could function as if she possessed a body. Masha wondered for a moment. The ball that had made up her form morphed into an image of her body that she remembered. The new form was clothed in a cute little skirt and a blouse. Nothing too showy but still nice to observe. Masha admired herself before turning back to the red man.
He nodded, his eyes not even appearing to register Masha's new form. "A CHOICE. ON ONE HAND, I WILL ALLOW YOU TO DIE. TO PASS ON AS YOU SHOULD HAVE. THE MAGIC BINDING YOU TO THE WORLD WILL BE SEVERED. ON THE OTHER, I WILL SEND YOU BACK TO THE WORLD. I WILL PLACE MY MAGIC IN YOUR HANDS. HOWEVER, THIS CHOICE HAS A COST. YOUR MEMORIES WILL BE CONSUMED. YOU WILL REMEMBER NOTHING, HAVE NO CONNECTIONS TO THE WORLD, BE IGNORANT OF ANY DANGERS." The being floated down towards Masha. His hand continued to stroke his beard. He appeared to be waiting for her answer.
WC: 632
"YOUNG ONE." A voice bellowed through the void. Maybe it was bellowing. The being couldn't be sure. Perhaps it was merely speaking. "IT IS NOT YOUR TIME YET. YOU ARE TETHERED TO LIFE BY UNHOLY MAGIC." A shape began to form before the being. It was a muscular male with bright red skin. Golden eyes missing an iris or a pupil dominated a face lacking any other features. The lower body of the being disappeared into a red wisp. The wisp curled off into the darkness. The eyes looked over the being. They almost appeared to be confused. Sad as well if that were possible. "YOU DO NOT EVEN REMEMBER WHO YOU ARE. LET ME ENLIGHTEN YOU."
The god-like being reached down to touch the other being. As the red fingers brushed against the outer bits of the glowing ball, knowledge flooded into it. Memories, identity, a sense of belonging came with the knowledge. The being felt once more a sense of self. Masha had been her name in life. She'd done some terrible things. She'd also done some amazing things. She'd met many people. Masha had killed a few and saved others. People had been left behind when she died. The being before her chuckled softly. "YOU ARE NOT DEAD, MASHA DYMONREL"
Masha's ball turned to the being in confusion. How did this not qualify as dead? "YOUR CREATORS TETHERED YOU TO THE LAND OF THE LIVING WITH UNHOLY MAGIC. THIS IS A LAND OF INBETWEEN. A PLACE CREATED FOR THOSE IN TRANSITION." Masha wished she had a brow to furrow. If she wasn't dead, wasn't dying and was held in the land of the living, why was she in the land of transition? The being stroked a beard that appeared upon its face. "I DREW YOU HERE, MASHA DYMONREL. THE UNHOLY MAGIC HOLDING ONTO YOU IS NO MATCH FOR YOUR PASSION. THAT PASSION BROUGHT MY ATTENTION TO YOU. I WISH TO GIVE YOU A CHOICE."
"A choice?" Masha croaked. Despite lacking a throat, she somehow managed to speak. An interesting change of pace. She could function as if she possessed a body. Masha wondered for a moment. The ball that had made up her form morphed into an image of her body that she remembered. The new form was clothed in a cute little skirt and a blouse. Nothing too showy but still nice to observe. Masha admired herself before turning back to the red man.
He nodded, his eyes not even appearing to register Masha's new form. "A CHOICE. ON ONE HAND, I WILL ALLOW YOU TO DIE. TO PASS ON AS YOU SHOULD HAVE. THE MAGIC BINDING YOU TO THE WORLD WILL BE SEVERED. ON THE OTHER, I WILL SEND YOU BACK TO THE WORLD. I WILL PLACE MY MAGIC IN YOUR HANDS. HOWEVER, THIS CHOICE HAS A COST. YOUR MEMORIES WILL BE CONSUMED. YOU WILL REMEMBER NOTHING, HAVE NO CONNECTIONS TO THE WORLD, BE IGNORANT OF ANY DANGERS." The being floated down towards Masha. His hand continued to stroke his beard. He appeared to be waiting for her answer.
WC: 632