I remember... peace.
The entirety of everything flowed through me and that was all there was. I floated through eternity for how long I can't tell. I use the word "I" loosely, you understand. Being one with the infinite schism doesn't lend itself well to the concept of subjectivism. I guess 'we' would be a better word. So we floated. Until I felt something.
The fact that I felt anything distinguishable was worrying. Then I realized I'd begun to worry. The I realized I'd begun to realize. I screamed and inhaled, but dirt filled my lungs and I clawed my way up.
It all felt strangely instinctive.
I swam through earth until my hands reached open air, then I groped around for some sort of hold. I found a shrub nearby and pulled, dragging myself up and out of the ground.
As I emerged, I saw a tall figure standing over me with a face empty of expression and eyes that stared off into the void of space.
"Well don't help me or anything!" I yelled at him.
"Burughhaumuh," he murmerd lazily.
"Well you could have found someone who can!" I spat back.
I pulled my last leg out of the ground and stood up straight. The cemetery was empty except for the two of us. It sat in the middle of a road by the name of Grave's Way that circled around it.
I looked down at myself and noticed I had much more curvature to my figure than I used to have.
"This is not my body!" I yelled at the twit with the slightly exposed skull.
"Raughuuuua..."
"Never trust a necromancer! Really though, they have enough trouble keeping themselves together, let alone bringing others back... You're useless! Go home and wait for me there!"
I made my way toward the cemetery exit and walked through town with my organs hanging out. I held them in to retain some semblance of dignity, but a passer by stopped and stared.
"Is that you, Frank?"
"Yes, Tom, it's me," I replied.
Tom was the town's miller. Aside from wheat, he would often grind bones for me en masse. I could do it myself, but what would take me days takes him a couple of hours, and in exchange I occasionally drag his deceased beloved back from the void so they can engage in... whatever it is that keeps him happy.
"Well, might I say you're looking lovely in miss Daisy," he said with a smile.
"Not right now, Tom. I have some shit I need to deal with."
"Ok, well, I'll see you later then," he said and began whistling a tune as he continued on his way.
I turned a couple of corners and walked into a store to see the local seamstress, Suzan Elwyn. She was chatting over the counter with the carpenter's wife Ellen Wright, both likely engaged in local gossip. When Suzan saw me walk through the door, a look of horror crossed her face.
"Frank?" she said, slowly standing.
"Yeah, it's me," I said.
"What..." she said, stepping around the counter. She moved closer, looking me up and down. "What..."
"Well, Grimsby tried to bring me back again, but you know how he-"
"What the actual fuck did you do to that dress?" She shouted. "I worked for days so that Daisy could look lovely on her burial day, and you've dragged it through the dirt and torn it apart!"
"Suzy-" I started.
"Don't you suzy me Frank Oublius!" She snapped back, whacking me over the head. "And another thing! How do you expect we'll get married if you keep dying? Till death do us part won't mean much if it's every other Tuesday! And now I suppose you want me to stitch you up again! What was it this time?"
"I don't know. I think Grim said a wrong incantation. You know how incompetent he is, I'm just lucky he's a fucking Necromancer."
Suzy stared at me for a moment, then sighed. "Come on," she said, defeated. "Just don't kiss me until you've washed. I don't want a week's worth of rot in my mouth. I'm not sure if I'm comfortable being in a relationship with a woman anyway."
"Only one way to find out" I said, pinching her backside. She gave a surprised "Oh!" and turned to give me a cheeky smile.
I have to admit, I'm pretty lucky. Not only does she know how to sew up a body right pretty, but for an undead warlock, whenever I'm around her I never feel more alive.
