Devil in Shepherd's Robes

Ch 1: Forgotten Memories

An ocean of blood red flowers stood tall as far as the eye could see, no flower he had ever seen before. The sky was a dull gray with a small hint of orange on the horizon; not a cloud to be found. No stars, sun, nor moon showed its face.

His name was Ephram, at least that's what he thought it was. It was the only thing he seemed to remember.

He wore a dark wide-brimmed hat, a long black trench coat, and sported a shiny gold pocket watch with a long chain in his left breast pocket. The black business suit underneath fit snugly to his every muscle-bound and brawny feature, its pure dark tailoring fitting his every whim. Ephram looked around trying to see if there was anything on the horizon, but no luck. He seemed to be completely alone in this place. Feeling hopeless, he sat down amongst the flowers.

Slowly reaching out for one red rose in particular, he felt the petals move gently between his fingers. However, something caused Ephram to stop moving. He stared down at his hands as if he were seeing them for the first time, noticing something peculiar.

They were pitch black, as was the rest of him. Not a detail could be found amidst the dark canvas of his body. Ephram slowly lifted his hands to his face, trying to feel any kind of facial features. As his hands moved about his face, they told him the truth. He had no features to speak of: no nose, mouth, eyes, ears, nothing at all where a face should be. Blackened skin encompassed his entire body, yet this dark flesh felt leathery and warm to the touch. Like a dark shell spreading itself across his entire surface area. He could feel the stale air enter his lungs as he tried to control his breathing, but the air felt as if it were being sucked in from the pores of his skin where his mouth should've been.

For a moment, his hands felt hot to the touch. He felt as if someone or something else had just touched his face moments ago, a warm embrace on the smooth surface of his face. The rigid jawline arcing across his lower face stuck out like a warrior's pride, something Ephram felt deeply connected to. Something within ached at the thought of his own memory, yet he couldn't remember what it was he was so tormented over.

His face did send quite the chill down his spine, but he was confused as to why he felt this way. He had no memory of ever having anything but this body, nor did he have memories of any other creature different than him. As far as he knew, Ephram was the one and only living thing in existence.

Feeling overwhelmed, he decided to put these thoughts out of mind for a moment and sit with the flowers a bit more, staring up at the blank sky looming above. Reality didn't have to make sense at the moment, all he wanted to do was feel the flowers under his hands as they moved softly with the breeze. The petals felt very soft to the touch, almost like silk. It made him happy to know something so beautiful could feel just like how it looked, although he wasn't sure why he was so relieved to feel that way.

Somewhere deep inside his mind, a thought had welled up to tell him that not all beautiful things were as pretty on the inside as they were on the outside. These flowers, however, were most definitely the exception to that rule.

Ephram felt the breeze pick up a bit now, almost blowing his hat off his head. Seeing this as his sign to get up, he decided to pick a direction and begin walking. Trying not to step on the flowers as he moved, he took one step forward. One after another is all he could focus on, watching as his legs almost moved on their own, striding with confidence ever forwards.

"Who is the one who gave you your name?" A squeaky and childish voice said from behind Ephram, and he turned to face it quickly.

A small creature amongst the flowers was looking up at him, it seemed to be some kind of animal and was just as dark as Ephram himself. The beady white eyes staring up at him seemed to belong to a small field mouse with void-black fur.