Empires, hermitcraft and the life series oneshots

A friend from the grave -pt.1.

Tw- death/ murder, description of gore(not to in detail but if it makes you uncomfortable please skip the part marked with '~')
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3rd person POV
He was still young. Age 5. The dirty blonde sat on the floor of his white room, smiling and giggling as he stared at the wall. His little legs wiggling as he thinks if there is more out of the walls of the corridors outside the room.

The boy's head turns to look at the shadows passing by his window. While yes, he couldn't see clearly out of it, the tinted glass and bright lights from the other side. He could hear people talking from just outside of his room.

The door soon opened and a worker came in, the young boy looked up at the man, confused on why he was here. After all, the blonde had already done his tests for today.

"003" The masked worker's voice was low and mildy intimidating to the young one. "You serve no purpose"

The boy was confused, 'no what?' But his confusion didn't last long as only seconds later a sharp pain flooded his little body.

~
He looked down, a handle sat on his stomach, thick, red liquid oozed from the wound. The liquid came out quicker as the worker pulled a blade attached to the handle from his body. The sharp metal covered in the same red liquid.
~

The dirty blonde looked back up at the worker, no guilt or remorse in his eyes. And with that the world faded into a black, endless void. . .

-

. . . Maybe the darkness wasn't as endless as he thought. As the young boy felt his eyes opening again, however the pain he felt just seconds before never existed.

The blonde sat up, looking around nothing was different, although as he looked at his hands, they were translucent and tinted red. It was then, he saw it. The worker, dragging his own body, out the room.

He got up and made a run for it. But as he got to the door, something forced him back. 'What? Why can't I leave?. Am I stuck, forever?'

And that he was, time passed and the five year old soon grew older. Ageing, even in the afterlife.

It's difficult to tell how much time goes by when you have nothing to base it of off. No clock, no window, no nothing. Not even when you get tired and when you wake up, as, you don't really need to sleep when dead.

But you could maybe guess how much time went by but how much older the boy was.

When he was murdered, he was 5, and now he was a 15 year old. So 10 years had gone by. And no one had entered the room since they cleaned up the scene.

And so, there he was, floating in the empty, white room. No one to interact with. No one to watch. No one to see. The blonde was alone. Like he always was.

But soon the normal, regularly quiet corridors outside his room were filled with screaming and yelling. Sounds of struggling filtered into the room from the wall.

A mass of shadowy figures struggled outside window. The blonde boy watched as the doors open and a man gets flung into to room. . .

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Leaving it on a cliff hanger but don't worry, the next part won't be too long but I am going to France soon so it may be a bit of time but I'll get it to you soon, promise.
But for now enjoy this, and try to guess the characters. I purposely didn't put in any names :)
But I will see you soon. Bye