Who ever said we couldn't be different? Langst Oneshots

Who is he: Part 1 (This will be a sort of series one shot, sorry)

Lance floated above the tapestry, it's colors dark in color as it displayed two lions surrounded by others. Blue, red, yellow, green, and black were all portrayed in the old fabric.
Lance sighed as his boredness caught up to him. Here, he was alone. Heck, maybe he deserved it.
He wouldn't admit but he was lonely here, in this old mansion. There wasn't anything here for him, not that he knew of anyway.
Some wind blew and the tapestry seemed to dance as the lions seemed to act with it. Blue and all the other lions stood up and turned, their tails swaying as if inviting and they all walked off into nothing. One blink and it was back to normal. Nothing was amiss. Lance had started to see those things happen for a while now. It started a few weeks ago, 2 years and 3 months since his death. He doesn't remember much about his death. Sometimes he'd wonder what sleeping is like and would wake up gasping if he could. Cold sweat would be all over him, his fear reaching his eyes, his hair a mess.
But sometimes he couldn't help slipping into old routine of going to sleep, much as it displeased him, he couldn't take away old habits.
Lance always wondered since then about a lot of things: how he died, why he was there, what the tapestry was for and why it seemed to do the things it did. He wondered about his life. His old life anyway.
What did he do in his free time? What was he like? Why did he die and how? What was this place, did his death take place here? Questions, questions swirled around his mind. What was behind the tapestry? What kind was it, who made it, why was it here, why the lions? More and more questions. He never knew he'd find out why it was there, what it seemed to want him to do, how he died, and maybe, just maybe, who he was before he died. Maybe he wouldn't be any different than who he was now. Maybe, just maybe..

(355 words)