My Zombie Family (MZF) BL

'Purpose?'

When Noah first awoke, it was never by choice. He woke up in an unfamiliar place with nothing to his name—no guidance or direction, just 'blank'. Everything after his death was 'blank'—except for the looming voice of a woman, both soft and conniving, before everything had gone black once again. Noah didn't know how much time passed; he couldn't tell how many times he'd awoken, but it was always in instant shock every time he did.

Like a baby inhaling air for the first time, he would burst awake uncontrollably, gasping and clutching at his heart. It was never easy getting used to slipping in and out of life. And each time Noah would desperately take in his surroundings for answers. What had happened to him? Where was he? He looked at his hands, his fingers covered in stitches of all colors. Was he alive or dead? He couldn't feel, couldn't tell. Looking at the cracked mirror in his lonely room he saw a ray of light.

And through that light, he began to see himself and his surroundings. The room was tiny. Only a sink, bed, and mirror were displayed. He turned the sink knob only to find no water. The window itself was extremely slim, the incoming light wasn't as bright, yet bright nonetheless. Had he awoken in the morning? Or had he been waking up late at night? looking around, the walls were covered in old blood and scribbled writing. His room was vacant... But what truly shocked him, was the familiar pattern of stitches spread across his body. Quickly he removed the white sheet he was wrapped in and saw his legs, both unusually pale in color with that same stitching.

Rather fearful than curious, Noah began to trace the stitching around his body. He only stopped when the stitching ended around his neck. Noah touched his face finding it rather clean than the rest of his body, and yet as he sat there on the bed in the lonely room he began wondering. 'What happened to me?' In the quietness of the room, Noah began to realize something was very wrong. Through the stillness of the room, he hesitantly discerned there was no sound of a heartbeat. Or rather His heartbeat. Now ridden with such horrors, he needed to know... What he'd become.

A monster.

He had awoken as a monster surrounded by other monsters. Corpses-failed experiments. He hated it—his new life, his appearance, everything about it. Scorn ran deep in his heart. But more than anything, remorse had haunted and kept him awake. "Oh? That's two hours earlier than usual." Noah heard a voice say. "There's been a shift in your balance... I'll keep note of that." As time passed, he grew to know the voice's identity as Enolla. Her lack of empathy, her cold distant demeanor, but worse of all her amusement of him. The obsession she had with his psyche. Running tests on him, calling him an "unwilling success" while calling the other monstrosities "failures." Noah at the time didn't understand what was deemed a failure, but whatever it was had to do with her creations. He hated being her success.

Out of disgust for the person who turned him into a monster, he rejected her tests and procedures, including everyone and everything Enolla stood for. Once Enolla grew tired of Noah's resistance, she left him in the village. Enolla thus disappeared for her next subject leaving Noah a chilling reminder. "I made a success, but that doesn't mean you'll be the only one. In reality Noah, you're expendable. I'll just make another you. If I did it before, I can do it again."

In the beginning, there were only a few. He was the latest addition. They all looked like monsters, but they all acted human. Noah wanted no part in such abominations. It was a sin to cross mortal boundaries, and it was an ill omen to survive death. Noah found a secluded cave near the village and began residing within to escape.

Isolated, Noah filled himself with rage, loneliness, and regret. Why was he alive? He wanted so desperately to die that all that was left was the empty feeling of numbness. Enolla's words didn't mean anything to him, he only felt that if he closed his eyes, maybe he could feel dead. During those days, he remembered his unfortunate father and his ill mother—the times they were happy, and the times they were upset. For days, he remained still, pretending to sleep. He wished to speak with his father one last time, hug his mother, and admit his sorries, but nothing worked. He was always miserably reminded of his 'living' state.