The Binding Vow of Lazarus

Chapter 1

"You were magnificent, Satoru Gojo. I shall never forget you for as long as I live."

Those were the last words Satoru Gojo heard before even the dreams had stopped. There was a pause before a heavy sense of nothingness creeped into his psyche. He waited to find out what the afterlife had in store for him. Heaven? Hell? Reincarnation? Nirvana? There had to be something, right?

But no... He was met with only a deep, dark silence.

He might have blinked in his confusion, but it was hard to tell. There was nothing to sense here. No direction, no sights, smells, feelings, no... Anything? What was it he was even waiting for? It didn't seem like he had anything left to do, right? Nothing left undone? Was he going to be a ghost? That'd be better than being a curse at least. And so he continued to wait for something to change, floating in the vast emptiness.

After a time, he became vaguely aware of a sound, the voice of a woman he didn't recognize.

"...thrice cursed and twice blessed, 
I bind my.... eternal rest. 
In death... life... 
Your breath returns..... 
... I grant you rise, 
As my life fades, your soul defies...
....I pay the price, 
Your life for mine, this cursed sacrifice."

She was so gentle and sweet, the sound whispering right in his ear. The words were spoken with genuine kindness, something that he certainly wasn't accustomed to. She trailed off as she finished her incantation and suddenly his lungs burned. His heart surged, beating hard, and his eyes shot open.

Pushing himself up onto his elbows, he squinted as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. The sun was just barely filtering in from behind dark, heavy shades. It was hard and cold against his rear and his fingers tapped on some kind of metal beneath him. Glancing around the room after his eyes adjusted and then down, he realized that not only was he completely nude but also he lay on a table used for a kotsuage.

Beside him on the wooden counter was an upturned and cracked open urn. He pushed at it with his hand curiously and turned the opening in his direction. It was empty, as he expected. It had to be his own urn. There was no way it wasn't. That was the only explanation for everything that was happening. He'd come back to life and the thing was left empty.

He cleared his throat, coughing at the dryness as he swung his legs over the table. His feet touched something warm and he recoiled slightly and pulled them up.

Satoru blinked, his vision slowly sharpening as he came to his senses. A woman’s body lay crumpled on the cold tile floor, her skin pale and dull. Her throat had been viciously slit, the gaping wound still raw, though the blood had long since stopped flowing. The crimson trail on her neck was stark against her pallor, a grotesque necklace of death.

His heart hammered as he stared at her, the world tilting and spinning in his mind. She didn’t move—didn’t breathe—and yet there was a strange familiarity about her that twisted his stomach. Her brown hair, soft and silky, cascaded around her like a dark halo. She was small, almost fragile, though something about her suggested she was around his age.

Satoru's mind raced, trying to piece together the fragments of his memory. He remembered… the incantation. The echo of it still lingered in his ears, a solemn chant that resonated with a power beyond his understanding. The words of a vow, spoken in a voice so kind, but one that had drawn him back from the abyss.

It hit him all at once—the horror of it. She had brought him back! But why?!

His gaze drifted to her hand, fingers curled tightly around something. Gently, he crouched down, his own hands trembling as he pried her stiff fingers apart. Nestled in her palm was a necklace, crude and simple, yet unmistakably deliberate. The thin silver chain had a silver rounded pendant on it, about the width of two fingers and an inch long. It was sealed tight and had been dipped in her blood. The same blood that stained her throat and the same blood that had been shed to pull him back into the world of the living.