• I’ve been waiting.

    Far too long.

    In my room.

    Cold room.

    Dark.

    Hate it.

    A young male curled his tail up to his torso, holding it like a normal human would hold his legs to the chest. Red eyes glanced around carefully, slowly in pure intense fear. Was this going to happen again? His room was small, but enough for him. He, a damned spirit. One who is no longer worthy of walking... no… floating on the earth. He was not even allowed to interact with the other spirits of the castle he has been trapped in. It was supposed to be an honor, he got to live here…He had had servants, and maids… and slaves… But no. It was no longer enough for him to stay in this dark room all day. He had been supplied a bed he no longer slept on, and food he no longer ate. What was left of his physical manifestation was huddled in the corner, rotting.

    Was it a castle? He no longer remembered. He remembered people serve him food, because his body no longer came out. Could he leave the room sometime? The door seemed awfully shut tight… How long would it take for his servants to figure out that the huddled figure in the corner no longer breathed, its heart no longer pumping?

    The boy leaned down to look at himself curiously, red eyes gazing into red eyes. His long three claws that made up his hand gently touched a dead cheek, once flush with life and joy. The skin made no reaction to his touch. He backed away, looking at his own blood-stained claw. He looked at the other, equally blood stained. Why was he covered in dried blood? What had he done to deserve this? He did not remember. Why was he here? It was on the tip of his tongue… but it never came. He knew it.. it should though… isn’t it? He should remember this stuff… his name, his age… how long he’s been here.. but no.. time seemed nonexistent. He didn’t even know how to count past 5 servants that walked past his room, he could see through the tiny window he was supplied.

    After some time, the body started to smell. At least, apparently it was. The servants were complaining… he was starting to think of them more like guards. After all, they looked muscular and seemed to patrol him, as if he was a prisoner here. Had he done some sort of crime when he was little? That would explain the blood on him. He looked at his claws and turned on the tap to try and wash the blood off… but no... Nothing happened. He turned the tap off and floated to his huddled body.

    He poked and prodded the dead body curiously. Could he perhaps go back into the other? He slipped into the body easily, apparently with the wanting to go through something he could with no problem. Nothing. He saw rotting organs instead of a place to stay. He came out again, looking at himself. What crime would he have committed to be stuck here? It had to be with blood… and the hand on his chest. That bloody mark, like a hand covered in blood had tried to hold onto his chest but died in the attempt and fell to the floor. What had he done wrong? Had he… cut someone? His claws, coated in the dry fluids of what he assumed to be was his victim. And... perhaps... he had killed the person, assuming from his chest mark that he had killed a loved one. Hmm…

    He had to keep them… the guards… thinking that his useless body was still working, still… alive. He eyes the tray on the floor curiously… What was this? Was his body supposed to... well... eat it? Well. Curious. The male floated to his supposed twin. “You.” He spoke in a soft tone, as if afraid of the guards outside hearing him. What would happen if they heard? Would he… be chained to the floor? Gagged? Or... would they find a way to kill him even when he has already died? “Please stop rotting.” He spoke simply, before taking the ‘food’ and flushing it down a shiny bowl-like thing. He placed the tray on the floor in front of the corpse. No… he moved it on the other side of the room instead.

    The spirit then let out a loud sigh, not knowing why they were doing this to him. Why had he died? What had happened? Was he truly dead? Or… was this just an out of body experience gone wrong? He didn’t know… Perhaps if he waited longer he would know. Someone would drop a clue, something. Anything, to help him. He sighed quietly and huddled close to his dead twin and closed his eyes to wait.

    “Its been smelly lately.” A guard spoke to the other. “Good he’s off to execution tomorrow.” The other grunted in reply to the statement and they moved on.

    The boy’s eyes opened wide. Execution? Is that the reason why he had died before, to avoid it? He looked at his body, confused. Yet another puzzle to puzzle about, and yet another clue to mull over as he waited for ‘tomorrow’.

    Tomorrow came, or, at least, he assumed it had been a tomorrow since his cell was finally opened. He could do nothing now but let them take his body, only to discover it had died and rotted. The spirit frowned and followed his body; not wanting to know what might happen if he got too far away from it. Would he no longer exist? Would he perish without another word? Would he be destroyed… or sent to a hell for his crimes? He did not know, but prayed that he would not go to a hellish place for crimes he did not understand of. What had he done wrong? Certainly something horrible and nasty to have warranted a death. Perhaps he really did kill a loved one, and maybe more than one. Maybe... perhaps… several? Might have tortured them? Cut off their legs and fed off their flesh? Was he such a bad person in his life? He had to find out more.



    The spirit followed his body into a room of whiteness, where it was shoved into a shelf of sorts. He looked confused, but stayed with his body until his body was pulled out again into a room of white. The spirit looked around curiously, when a man in a white coat walked in, and with him many assistants. They examined his body cut it open and such… curious. They signed a few papers afterwards and disposed of his body.

    The spirit no longer found a use to stay with his body after all. It was cut up and it was going to be namelessly buried, since he had no family that wanted to keep his body. Of course, he was a little disappointed at that, maybe he had killed his so called family… but why? That was the problem…He did not know why… He had to. If he was dead, and he wasn’t in heaven or in hell… he had to find out why, them maybe he could pass on. Maybe.

    He certainly didn’t know. Well, he followed the doctor and read over his shoulder. His name… was Serebus. His cause of death… tuberculosis? What was that? He did not remember. He did not remember at all. He gently floated off, back to his cell... back to where he died. He felt a kind of connection to this place. A strange connection to the place. Like here was all the unraveling to his secrets, the secrets he wanted to find out. At the same time, his logical mind told him that staying in once place could not possibly give him all the information he needed to pass on. In fact, why hadn’t he passed on? Hell or heaven was much better than staying here in absolute cluelessness, wondering how and why he had died… or why he was here, for that matter.

    The male sighed and curled up, feeling depressed. Why had he come to be like this? He did not, could not understand this. Though, they went to clean up what used to be his room.. the guards checked over his stuff. They commented on his death, saying that it was tragic and sad… but nothing else more than that really. That he was a murderer, some said he deserved to die of tuberculosis, painful and slow as it is. It seemed that no one had any pity these days, everyone just wanted to hurt everyone else. Maybe it was for the best that he died when he did, before he became cold and bitter like these men.

    The spirit followed the men, over to a room with many files. They pulled it out, and he waited for the men to leave before he took his own folder out, to see. Why. Why was his body here? He looked into the folder, peering at himself. White hair, red eyes, and a happy smile. Serebus Sandors, a young male of 19 years old. Arrested for… murdering his family after they tried to keep him indoors as a means to stop his… heroine addiction?!

    The spirit dropped the folder and he quickly just went to his cell. No, that can’t be true. He was not like that. He couldn’t be like that!!

    And for the rest of eternity any unfortunate soul that had walked into Serebus’ s cell never came out sane… if they were lucky.