Author's Note: Recently got Dark Souls 3 after a long time of wanting it. Been loving the game despite the fact it kicks my ass. So... I decided to write on it.
...
Cold.
Slithery, biting cold. Like chains being wrapped around his skin after submerged in the snow.
It hurt.
He longed for warmth. He inhaled involuntarily, his mouth caustic and dry. A thick, powdery substance filled his mouth and nostrils as soon as he inhaled, causing him to cough and choke on whatever it was.
He floundered in the substance, thrashing and trying to throw it off him. His head broke clear, along with his upper body, flinging the grey substance off him along with a black lid.
Light blinded him, causing him to blink rapidly. His sight adjusted, he looked around him. The grey substance coated his lower body still, but the cold persisted, tearing through his bones like an icy river.
Ash.
He blinked again, this time in bewilderment, looking at the dark tomb he had sat in.
No…
He stood up, desolation usurping the cold in his body.
He put a hand to his chest, hoping, praying…
His chest remained still, not even moving from his breathing.
No…
He looked to the sky, feeling the tug of a leather shield and a battle axe on his back. The sky was grey-yellow, the sun hidden behind clouds. In the distance, far, far away, there it shone. The proud, august, mighty Lothric Castle, its grey expanse consuming half the horizon.
The Darksign…
He tore off his gauntlet. There it was, emblazoned on his palm, a fiery ring surrounding an expanse of black.
I'm…
He was Undead.
And he was doomed to go Hollow.