I own none of Dark Souls, or any of FromSoftware's works.

Lordran. Loooordraaaan. 'Tis a very interesting place. It was once ruled by dragons- Wait, no it was made after the dragons came. Okay, so I think it goes: world is ruled by dragons in trees (By the way, why would anyone ever want there to be anything else? Seriously, TREES.), then zombies are set on fire and become Gods (Or witches. Or… skeleton… men?) and humans, and these fire zombies decide to attack the dragons because reasons, and then the age of flames and shit commences. But now it's subsiding, and flames are being replaced by the dark. Except the dark is a flame, so it's more like light is subsiding, and dark is arising.

Anyways, so fire zombies are turning back into regular zombies (who can't die), but apparently that's a bad thing. So now a chosen one comes to save the world. Or dance with a trident, which looks much more entertaining.


Oscar of Astora was in a heap of trouble. When he came to the Undead Asylum, he expected for there to be a number of able-bodied and willing individuals that wished to aid him in his quest to stop the Age of the Dark. However, the truth that he discovered horrified him.

Almost every single one of the inhabitants of the Asylum had already gone hollow, and there appeared to be only one exception in the entire complex.

Oscar was mortified. Back home, in Astora, the Undead curse was quite present, yes. However, for every 50 undead, there was only 1 hollow. Generally, the curse, while debilitating, was not necessarily a common thing to deal with. Even then, hollows were taken care of quite quickly; the royalty of Astora had made a very efficient system of slaying any hollows spotted. Mercenaries, very good ones, were often hired to hastily cease the cadaver's functions. Common people did not have to deal with them.

Looking at the hollows made Oscar sick. There skin was red, as if the flesh were torn and ripped from their muscles, and they were so very thin. Oscar could barely stand the sight of seeing the dwellers of slums, those who looked like they were nothing but skin and bones. However, even they could not compare to hollows; it was as if- no, it was looking at at half rotten corpses. None of this was what was worst about the hollows, however. No, the fear that drove Oscar was something that not even looking at one of Izalith's demons square in the face could ever compare to.

He feared their eyes. It was an unspeakably awful paradox. They were dead; the eyes were as corpses, empty. Hollow definitely suited these monsters, but that hollowness was somehow not alone. Somehow, there was something else in those eyes. It wasn't life, no… the hollowness had not gained life, but swallowed death. They were not evil, merely wrong. Morality, ethics, even instinct could not define them. They contained something that Gods, demons, the dead, and humans were not meant to fathom. He used to hear tales of Nito, First of the Dead. As a child, Oscar was terrified of the skeletal titan. Now? Oscar doubted he would even flinch at such a silly being. Oscar had lost his fear of death. The thought of hollowing devoured all other worries. Oscar prayed that if he were to ever go hollow, that someone would come and kill him quickly and brutally. He wanted no chance to come back.

A sudden noise alerted Oscar. He had been in contemplation for quite some time, and was ignorant of his surroundings. He noticed the sound coming from behind, and looked to the source. Oscar instantly regretted his thoughts of seeing a demon. Not that he was wrong, it was still better than a hollow's eyes. Still, looking straight at a demon's face was still not a pleasant sight.

His thoughts immediately screeched to a halt when he saw the monstrosity's club come crashing down. Oscar dodged to the right, feeling the roof quake with the force of the demon's club. His thoughts were swept back to his days as a squire, hearing discussion between a number of older knights, including his master.

"Tell us, Charles. How did you defeat the behemoth?" His master had asked.

Charles roared in laughter, "Honestly, once I figured out the trick, it was easier than slayin' a damn deer! Ya see, thing is, big monsters, really big ones, they don't turn around so good. Once you get yourself right up in deir arses, dey have loads of trouble gettin' ya. By da end of it, ya'll almos' feel sorry for 'em!"

Oscar returned back to the present. The club was coming for him again, but once again he dodged. Following Charles's advice, Oscar rushed straight to the demon's posterior. He saw why Charles was right rather quickly. The demon was having problems keeping up with Oscar, its rather short legs not allowing it to turn rather well. Oscar lodged himself onto the demon's rump and began slicing. Occasionally the demon would swipe at him, but he saw the body turn and dodged away, returning swiftly back into the attack.

That was until he stood back up and saw no sign of the demon. Oscar wondered and worried where it could have gone. His answer soon arrived when he heard some odd flapping from above. Oscar regretfully looked heavens-ward, seeing the monster falling right onto him. There was no time to dodge. This was it. He was going to die. His last thoughts would be, "Huh, that is quite the fine backside."

A least they would have been, if it weren't for the thundering blow that sent the demon speeding away. Out of nowhere, a red blur had crashed into the demon, yelling, "JESUS FUCKING CHRIST! COULD YOU, FOR ONCE, ACTUALLY TAKE CARE OF THIS THING! THIS IS THE EIGHTH! GOD! DAMNED! TIME!"

Oscar couldn't tell what was louder, the voice or the cacophony that erupted when the blur hit the demon. One was like an eruption, the other was like a thunderclap. Either way, Oscar was astonished to see the demon go flying. The behemoth (or at least the remaining tenth of it) was sent flying past the horizon in a second.

Oscar looked to his savior, the hero who took out such a demon with a single strike, one who could likely defeat an ancient dragon if they wished to. He didn't know what he expecting (Yes, he did actually. A very fit Gwyn, scaled down to human size, in knight's armor.), but it certainly wasn't this. He was a child. If an adult, barely so. He was short too, standing at around 5'01". His clothes were also odd. He wore a red leather jacket, and it appeared he wore a woolen shirt under that. He also appeared to be wearing some odd blue trousers. His shows looked odd as well. The bottoms were completely white, and looked odd, like some sort of wax. Above that they were red, laced together in the middle by some red string.

The strangest thing about him was his facial appearance. He looked… masculine. That was the only way to describe it. It was as if someone had taken the gruffest parts of all of the gruffest knights in Astora and merged them together onto a single face. The angles were sharp, the structure made it look like he was frowning perpetually, and his jaw was fantastic in its shape. He remembered an old story about a hero from the future by the name of ash whose jaw was like some sort of hammer. Oscar looked at the hero and understood how such a comparison could ever be made between mallet and mandible.

Before he could say anything else, the hero through something at him. Catching it in midair, he examined the object to discover that it was a large iron ring. He gave an incredulous look to his savior, who offered an explanation that was both brief and unhelpful, "It'll make Blighttown much easier when you get there."

The hero then smashed his foot into the roof, and the surrounding area caved in. While at first Oscar though his savior a madman, his belief was thrashed away when they abruptly found footing. The upper floors of the Asylum had been a short distance below them, and Oscar saw that they were both astoundingly fine. Ahead of them was a hollow (thankfully looking away) standing behind a large iron ball, that Oscar questioned on how it got up this high, The hero struck the corpse with an open palm. The hollow was quickly embedded into the ferrous sphere, and both were sent flying away, destroying most of the architecture in their path. The hero began descending the stairs, with Oscar in hot pursuit.

Oscar, his curiosity dying to be quenched, finally spoke up, "So, might I ask what your name is?" They were passing through an iron doorway, at the bottom of the stairs, a bonfire in front of them. The hero's hand suddenly shot out and grasped Oscar's, who was too surprised to react. Without hesitation, the hero brought Oscar's hand to the hero's crotch. Oscar, at first, thought: A. "But I'm not gay!", B. "I do like an aggressive personality." and C. "Why is there no genitalia."

The hero spoke up, "My name is Selena. I don't know where I'm from, so it is just Selena. I am, in fact, female. The reason I grabbed your hand and made you feel my crotch is because 99% of the time, that is the only way anyone believes that I am not, in fact, male. Now if you'll excuse me, we need to get out of here." Selena rushed through a large set of double doors, into a large courtyard with a gaping whole at the bottom. The floor, and surrounding area, was covered in the blood and gore of another demon. Selena jumped over the whole and crashed through another set of doors, sending the massive pillars off their hinges.

Oscar followed after, sidestepping around the hole, casually walking through the open space that was once the exit doorway. Selena was waiting for him halfway up a relatively steep incline. He walked up to meet her, but right before he was standing face to face with Selena, he heard a rumble fro behind.

The asylum was collapsing. It appeared Selena had caused quite some damage to the infrastructure, and it could barely stand it anymore. The walls crumbled, the roof caved, and the entire complex devolved into disarray in a matter of seconds. Oscar looked back at Selena, who could tell, even with his helmet on, that he was equally confused and irritated. He asked in a voice mixing fear and exasperation, "How are you so strong?"

Selena sighed, "I have a limitless potential, so I can put as many souls into vitality, endurance, strength as I want. I also have a limitless number of souls and humanity at my disposal, which I'm hoping to use to save a few people. I have these things because I possess the completed Dark Soul. My name is Selena, but it turns out, in my past, I was once the Furtive Pigmy; progenitor of humanity. Now hurry up, we have to get a crow or a raven or something to carry us miles away to Lordran."

Oscar would have preferred staying with the hollows. They made sense.

This is my first work, so please, critique as much as possible.