Vibrations and sensations, moments and thoughts, words and ideas, for the fourth time in his lifetime, he had died, and his body was carted away back to the graveyard; this time unrecognized, as his face and hair had been stained red with the blood his heart had bled.
Standing at the teetering edge, his lifeless form was tossed onto the pile of bodies that laid set to be burned the next day. The smell of death and the hopeless feeling of dread, pain, and despair filled the air. The hot afternoon turned into a cold evening, causing the bodies to go rigid, and a foul odor began to emanate from Yeonho's body. The moment the clock struck midnight, the moon above glowed a bright purple as the corpses around Yeonho began to move, each crawling on each other to reach the one that laid above them.
This was the only way to escape the viper; indeed, it was the best choice, Yeonho thought to himself. The world was never really a fair place to begin with, so he might as well even the score to save his own skin, as nobody would ever do that for him, as no one ever cared.
The corpses now scrambled as Yeonho sank into them; they clawed and scratched, bit into him, and devoured his skin. The noises of flesh being ripped from bone, the metallic scent of blood in the air. Yeonho laid there a sacrifice at mercy to their hunger, gazing only at the purple moon that hung over him in the sky. He accepted this fate because this was the one he was offered.
Now that the purple moon was no longer in his sight, he sighed to himself as a dark purple goo-like substance oozed from his body, spreading rapidly through the corpses like a plague converging beneath like a river. Slowly, the corpses sank into the river, each stretching out their hand, screeching for salvation as Yeonho floated above them, looking down coldly; some corpses still clung to him in desperation.
With a smile on his face, Yeonho fell into the now dark river with the corpses screeching around him, and he could tell why the dark river burned his very soul, threatening to consume his very being from within. He could sense the magnanimity of his sin, the manipulation and use of souls, of the damned ones Yeonho now referred to as hollows.
A far cry from the beings they once were, and to suffer along with them, he remained as the river devoured his skin onto the fiber of his muscles before devouring his bones. The will of the abyss resonated even deeper with his.
The need to devour and the want to sink fangs into every and all beings; its hatred bore itself in his heart. The dark whispers clouded his mind. He wanted to lash out, lunge, and fight to kill everything, devour everything, destroy everything beneath his skin. The hollows wailed and screamed, the distaste of their horrid lives that lost none of their choices.
The murder of a child, the betrayal made by one's lover, or being stabbed in the heart by one's father, the orchestrations of executions by warped nobles. All of this pain, trauma, and hatred made its way into Yeonho's mind, the hollows coupled with the desire to unleash into the world what the world had done to them and cast them aside, this all aligned with the will of the abyss.
Now Yeonho stood alone in the dark hours had passed, he now stood by himself amongst a pillar of corpses, he stood above them all with an understanding that they were now all empty. From the top of his mind, he could easily name every single one of the many that laid lifeless in the graveyard.
They sang their despair, serenaded their hatred, whispered their regrets, as they couldn't reach for the light under the warm embrace of the gods. Even after their death, their tainted souls now left to be tortured in the abyssal realm. The reason they reached and bit him was the acceptance of their fate.
"If we can no longer dwell in god's warm embrace, we will submit to darkness and become that which pierces his heart," Yeonho spoke.
Immediately from behind, he could hear the sound of someone applauding him. He couldn't sense it before, but he could now, as many cloaked in dark robes surrounded him. He could hear the footstep approaching him.
To the front stood a girl in a black dress, dark heels, and striped socks, with a small dark umbrella over her shoulder. Her hair flowed long and dark, her skin was pale white, and her lips had a purple hue.
"It's poor manners to appear as such in front of a being as yourself, but I couldn't hold out to wait to greet you, my lord." Her voice ran high but smooth as the words flowed fluently.
Pinching both ends of her dress, she bowed in a refined manner as Yeonho's eyes looked down upon her, expressionless, and as she, in turn, smiled slightly.
"You are?" Yeonho spoke in a puzzled manner.
"Ah! Please forgive me, my lord," she spoke at a higher pitch, her pale cheeks flushed a light pink.
"My name is Margaret Eld Whitlock. I am the current matriarch of the Whitlock family, and I am greatly honored to meet you, my lord." She bowed as she had earlier, this time, her head hung lower in respect.
Yeonho wore a confused expression as to why she held him to such a high level of respect; he had no clue. As the matriarch of the Whitlock family, she held power shared only by 9 others, and those were rulers who governed the other ten noble families.
Looking to the figures that surrounded him, he immediately noticed something embroidered into their cloaks in purple; hidden amongst clouds, was the moon of the abyssal world. All of the unknown figures wore the same insignia.
As if to answer his questions, Margaret continued, "We are all loyal followers of the purple moon church, and we are ever so grateful to be graced by the presence of our sacred deity."
Yeonho, who had watched quietly, now began to laugh loudly. This made Margaret blush even more, her confidence now shattered as she looked around nervously.
"My apologies, but it's a bit odd to call me a god when just one of your fine men could simply end my life in mere moments," Yeonho said in response to his action.
"I understand, my lord, the state you are currently in is weaker than you normally are. We are simply here to carry out your orders, all without a doubt or hesitation in our hearts," Margaret spoke willfully, her eyes carrying a determination Yeonho couldn't understand.
"You seem to think too highly of me, but if all you believe is true, then what does my interference do to benefit you?" Yeonho spoke in a skeptical tone.
"I cannot lie to you, my lord. I am indeed in dire straits despite my appearance; I'm over 789 years old, my forte reads "Grimm Tales of the Ageless Witch." She spoke.