ϯհε ϖσɾʆδ σƒ ϯδσɓαδ

δσʍαίη

"The rays of light created by him could give any dead the feel of life. And then the real hunt could begin."

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The leaves crumpled under their steps as they ran. There was only so far they could go. They stopped running and rested their hand against the tree. Their breaths came out sharp and harsh. A low growl to their left sent them running right. The chase was his favorite part of being the ruler of the Domain. There was a certain thrill and sense of justice to it all.

This was what happens to all the horrible, terrible mortals who die. He watched the soul run from his as if the soul was not already dead. There was nothing he could do beside chase them as they ran from him.

He whistled a low tune as he slowly followed the soul, enjoying himself as he followed the soul. It was what he did day in and day out, and he always found a new way to torment them. He brought his steed to a faster pace, trotting behind the soul. A twig snapped not from his steed or the soul, and he knew he had an audience of souls watching. All they would be thinking is that they're glad it's not them he was chasing.

He stopped whistling as he forced the steed faster. The soul getting closer, closer, than the steed ran past him. He stopped the steed and turned to see the soul on the forest bed. Lying perfectly still, a mistake every soul made at least once. He smiled to himself and began whistling to himself again. He hopped off his horse and walked up to the soul.

He brought his hand up and cast a ray of light onto the soul. The soul shot up off the ground and started to run.

"What's my name, dead soul?" A multitude of small whispers sounded and the soul he was chasing screamed it out,

"Hyperion!"

"Now run, I'll give you time." The soul began running, and he turned back to his steed. He began whistling again, and heard the other souls running though the brush. They knew he would find one of them. It was all a game to him, and they were the players.