I lean on a broken streetlight. The street is dark, even the rare intact lightbulbs fail to brighten the damp street. I don't know this place; I woke up next to the river, silently flowing across this empty city. I found myself wearing dark, long and loose clothes, almost like a Romanesque iteration of Death. They don't protect me well from the cold; I feel the insidious breeze crawling on my body. I tried to walk to warm up but failed. I ran, as fast and as long my breath would last, but no warmth would come. The street I ran to is almost the same as the one I woke up in, dark and empty. Where am I? I don't know. I'm cold, exhausted and confused. I decide to wait and sit against a wall waiting for the night to vanish.
Some hours later, I see a light flicker at the end of the street, quickly followed by another one. My curiosity being nearly annihilated by the cold, I don't move. The lights flicker again and grow nearer; I hear a faint voice in the distance "Here he is! Finally» I notice when I try to get up that my legs are frozen, the fault on that damned cold! I can only stay still waiting for the two things to arrive. Is the world getting darker or am I just dying?
When my mind starts crumbling I notice two pairs of thin, completely black legs. I look up to see the heads of the two persons, a long and painful move. The flames burning instead of their heads seem to look through me. Just before losing consciousness I feel warmth coming back into my bones.
The same warmth is wrapped around me like a blanket when I briefly come back into the realm of the conscious. The reassuring sensation invades every bit of my skeleton and makes its way into my skull. My mind goes numb and I sink again in the banality of eternity.
When I wake up a second time, I stay awoken. The same candle persons sit on big chairs identical to the one I was sleeping in moments ago. The left one speaks first with its warm yet metallic voice. "Good thing we found you. You could have frozen to madness if you stayed down there here." They are thin, and look rough, almost like they are made of iron string, melt and bent by some god to look like human. "You are now at the service of the Flames..." their head however is not human. A candle, burning fiercely, is standing on a metal plate. "..., you shalt serve him, body and soul..." The reflection of the flames of the melt wax shines in pearls, like a multitude of inquisitive eyes. "... Welcome among us, Reaper!"
Still confused, I caress my inexistent chin and I ask hesitantly "What must I do?"
Then the candles stand silent and point out a door. Feeling like I should obey their suggestion I enter the other room. Inside the room is a rack of closets. A note is pinned on the wall next to the closets. It tells me to use the contents at my liking. I find lots of clothes inside, none alike the... "Blanket" I was wearing earlier. Those are sets of neatly disposed suits, dark pants, greyish coats and shining shoes. Whoever may want to meet me, they seem to give some importance to style. Great.
After a few minutes of reflexion and closet exploration, I opt for a pair of simple pants, comfortable shoes, a colourless shirt and a brown, thick, warm and loose coat. It covers me well; it's warm and does not restrain my movements too much. The moment I finish adjusting the coat on my shoulders, one of the guys who picked me up appears in the room, at the other end if the corridor. It makes me feel almost as if I have been watched all the time I was changing. Time for some explanations, I don't like being monitored.
I follow the Candlehead as I nickname them to a Bordeaux massive door. The dark figure extends their thin arm to the door and pushes it like it weights nothing. I follow them in the dark room ahead.
The inside is sober at wish, furnished with a leather-looking chair and a large fireplace. No windows. The Candlehead points out the chair, inviting me to sit, or so I think. I take place on the chair, which is as comfortable as it looks. Immediately after, I hear a clicking sound. The Candlehead has left. The next moment, the flames roar to life and heat strikes my face. A deep and warm voice fills the room, the Flames started speaking...
"One little soul, wandering
Among all is brought to salvation
Now bound as an underling
Shall carry their mission."
"Excuse me?" I wasn't expecting that... Not that a chimney could talk nor ignite itself, the Candleheads had already shown me it was possible. But before I can even answer, the flames raise their voice again.
"Yet, ultimately the choice is theirs
Swear, on thy soul to become my heir
Become my swordsman, and honour our pact
Show the way to the lost ones, here starts your act."
While speaking, the flames grew a bit. Now they stand still, as if they were waiting for an answer. If I get it right, they offer a deal, or a pact. I am pulled out of my thoughts when I notice a small, round wooden table with a sheet of paper and an expensive looking pen disposed in the center. A contract, the flames offer me a contract. But for what job? I extend my arm to the table and bring it back to my chair. The sheet is marked with my full name and a long poem I have trouble to understand fully. Should I sign? Bits of the Candleheads' speech come back in my mind; they made it look like I had no choice... But it is obvious I have the choice, even the flames had said it. I hesitate for a few minutes, when suddenly the flames burst briefly in the chimney, sending a wave of heat through me. I stay still an instant, savouring the warmth the flames give me. Instantly I remember the cold city, the painful and dangerous cold. Is this what they want? Work in exchange of warmth?
I am still hesitant but I feel that the flames can offer something much more precious than I imagine. And ultimately I don't have any choice; I doubt they'll let me stay if I refuse their offer. I uncap the pen and swiftly draw a little symbol unthinkingly; it comes out being a triangle with initials in it, my initials for sure. The moment I lift the pen off the contract, it flies right into the fire. My signature is swallowed by the flames that look somewhat pleased.
"A new path is blooming Reaper,
Welcome to the realm of the Flame
Of the undead, you became the butcher,
But the whole hell is left to tame."
It looks like my new job will be quite something... I stand up mechanically from the chair as the flames go extinct in the hearth. Maybe I should leave the room and ask the Candleheads for information. As I walk for the Bordeaux door, I feel a tick in my pocket. A lighter. A small, silvery gas lighter is in my pocket. I see my employer has some tricks in their sleeves. I spin the shiny object in my white fingers and flip the cap off. It's a normal lighter, I roll the sparkstone to test it and everything turns black....
~Yeah I'd frick a Creeper~
