Crimson red eyes tiredly opened, staring up at the ceiling. There was nothing new about the ceiling, nothing of interest to him. Everything remained unchanging, predictable, and lacking. Lacking in what, he did not know.

Breathing in deeply, he sighed through his nose before rising up from his position on the worn lounge couch. He didn't need to get up. No one was waiting for him and he had nothing important to do. But he could hear the early birds singing their songs. The birds were his only visitors, the ones that would dare come close to see him. The faint rays of the morning sun penetrated through his window, giving him a vague idea of what time in the morning it was.

He went still at the sound of someone rustling just beneath the window outside. Was somebody there? Did he have a visitor? With great hesitancy, he arose from his seated position and slowly approached the window. Leaning forward, his upper body effortlessly phased through the curtain, allowing him to peek outside. His gaze immediately fell on a small squirrel rustling through his overgrown bushes. Looking up with dark eyes, the squirrel blinked when it saw him.

Another sigh escaped him as he pulled back through the curtains. Pity. He would have liked to have done some haunting.

He did not receive many visitors in his large home, but when he did, he always made an effort to greet them. He assumed that meeting the visitors was haunting as he had heard the intruders scream it so many times. Was it customary for the living to run in fear with screams of terror following them in their wake? He did not look particularly scary, at least, he didn't think he did. His raven hair was darker than most, and his red eyes stood out against his pale features. He had two arms and legs like any other mortal, and his head was still attached to his shoulders, unlike that other Noble he had caught sight of hundreds of years ago.

Sure. He was dead. But did that really give the intruders a right to treat him so rudely after they'd barged into his home?

However, he found that he liked being alone. Or, maybe he just adapted to being alone. He couldn't deny his curiosity about what the outside could offer him. He had never ventured further than the trees obscuring the view of his mansion. He had decided that if the mortals were this rude when they saw him, then he wanted nothing to do with them.

Looking around with disinterest, he noted that everything was in place. After all, no one else was here to move his things around, and it was not like he could move them himself without some help. The birds could only do so much for him.

The curtains were pulled back. Glancing over his shoulder, he smiled at the birds struggling to pull the drapes back. When enough sunlight streamed through, he released the birds from his mind control. Without another moment of hesitation, the birds flew away, leaving him alone once more.

He wished they would stay longer of their own free will, but they were always in such a hurry tending to their chicks or building a new nest. He understood if they couldn't find the time for him.

He didn't know much, other than he wasn't normal. He couldn't touch things, and he had to control other beings to do things for him. Most of the time, it was the birds that helped him, and the occasional rodent, but he didn't like having mice in his house. They chewed the wood. The one time he actually met a mortal was when an unfortunate intruder barged into his home. Mind controlling the man had been easy and beneficial as he was able to get a lot of stuff done with the mortal's help, such as fixing a knocked over bookshelf or fixing the iron gate outside. Besides, it was nice having someone in the house and keep him company. But, when he had released the man from his power, he had run screaming just like any other visitor.

Was that how they said 'good-bye' in the living world?

He didn't try scaring everyone away. Only the ones coming to inflict property damage onto his home. Those he scared willingly. The last time mortals came to his home for a smoke, it had taken him days to air out the rooms to rid himself of the disgusting smell.

He was alone in the fact that there was no one like him around. He just lingered in the halls of his vast home, scaring away any possible visitors. He kept the house nice and clean with a little bit of help. Not being able to touch things was aggravating at times, and he found that if he did not keep up with the maintenance of the house, then everything would fall apart. So, the birds and the critters became his unwilling helpers once fallen under the influence of his mind control.

He had grown used to this life, this unchanging life of his. Time ceased to exist to him. He did not know how much time had passed, but he had noted the change in the mortal's clothing and speech style whenever he would get intruders. He could only surmise that a long time has passed since he came to this home. In fact, he could not recall when he had come to this home or how he got here. Maybe he was always here and in this state. If so, then his life was a very sad existence, but it was his existence, and he would make the most of it.

Everything was changing, except for him.

He gave up on anyone coming to visit him, or even talk to him in what he assumed to be a normal tone. He knew there were other beings like him. He had seen two of them maybe a century ago, both fussing about how they had wound up in their current situation.

"He couldn't have killed me without cutting my arm off?" the dark-haired female had complained. He had watched from his poorly maintained garden with great interest as she had walked through a tree, her body materializing without a problem. "Now I'm stuck being a one-armed ghost Noble!"

Her companion had merely scoffed at her comments. "At least you've got both your eyes. I could have healed it before I died, but no! I have to walk around looking like this!" With that, his eyepatch had been ripped off, exposing what was left of his eye.

The female had recoiled in disgust. "Put that back on! I may be dead, but I don't want to look at that for all eternity!"

He had stepped forward to make himself known, but they had rushed on, leaving him alone once more.

He had made peace with his current state long ago. It was no use to groan and grumble like some other beings. He had a house to take care of, and the birds kept him somewhat occupied.

As he walked down the stairs, his steps light and sending him a few inches into the air with every movement, he walked through the door and frowned. Why did his garden fence have a big hole in it? Did someone vandalize his property? Just because he was dead and supposedly scary did not give them a right to desecrate his precious home.

Kneeling down, he examined the remains of the fence and the dripping substance coming from it, noticing that it was cut clean through. Had a mortal done this? Why?

Straightening up with a frown, he followed the trail through his backdoor and down the stairs of the cellar. It appeared as if the intruder was leaking all over the floors he had just cleaned. But why would they be hiding downstairs? It was as if they wanted to get caught.

He sighed. Oh well. This poor mortal was most likely in for the scare of his life, but there was nothing he could do about it. With a grimace, he stepped through the door, prepared for the upcoming screams that were sure to come.

But there was only a relieved chuckle.

"Hello there, Noble. Do you think you could give me a hand?"

He blinked in shock, staring at the huddled form in the darkest corner of his cellar. Silver eyes shone in the dark, staring back at him. He could not see much of the large figure, but that was the least of his wonder. Someone was talking to him other than 'ahh' or 'help' or 'be gone devil!'

"Excuse me, do you think you can help me?"

He blinked, embarrassed that he got so lost in thought.

"I'm a little hurt here, so you will need to come a bit closer."

Taking a small step forward, he was able to see that the being was indeed larger than him. Was this another Noble? But the other Nobles he had seen from afar had red eyes. This one had silver, and he wasn't so sure if Nobles, once entering this state of death, could get hurt. But no one had bothered to explain anything to him, so his source of knowledge was limited. Maybe this being was a mortal?

Regardless, there was someone here who needed help. This being was talking to him and communicating with him.

Kneeling down, he looked expectantly at the being, a few feet of distance separating them. He stretched out his pale hand, watching as the being also moved forward, his hand larger. His nails were long and appeared sharp, and he could not help but stare. Finally, in the dim lighting, he could see the being's form.

He was pale with long scars traveling over his exposed chest. Another long scar traveled from the tip of his neck and up his cheek, stopping just below his eye. His silver hair was wild and long, and he could not help but stare at this different being.

"What? You've never seen a werewolf before?"

Werewolf? He felt as if he should know that. Why did he have a sudden tingle travel down his spine, a feeling of wariness?

"Gosh, I got beat up pretty badly out there," the werewolf grunted, moving a little closer. His fangs glinted in the dark. "Guess I'll have to make use of you."

He found himself shoved back as the werewolf leaped on him, his hands transforming into claws and latching onto his shoulders.

"It's nothing personal," he heard the werewolf state. "But I need what's left of your lifeforce."

Oh, right. Werewolves ate Nobles.


A/N: This is based around the webtoon "Rise from the Ashes." It's an amazing webtoon that I would highly recommend. There will be no pairings for this story, and updating should be fairly consistent as I have some of the future chapters written out.