He looked at her with disbelief. Did she just ask what he thinks she did? His mind must have been playing tricks on him. There is no way she would allow him to take her soul, her essence. He looked at her soul once more, which was floating around in her chest. He had to admit it was unlike any soul he has seen before. This one was a slightly brighter shade of green, almost neon, and instead of being a calm clear orb it looked like it leaked it's essence. Like the fire that swirled around himself.

It was unique.

This is what drew him so much to her. It was new, something he had never seen before, and he wanted it. He craved for it. He could just feel the joy and happiness radiating off of it, but also a very deep sadness and also seething rage. This made him wonder. How did she become undead in the first place?

But that thought was put to rest when she moved closer. He was still gripping her wrist, and somehow he was unable to let go. ''Take it'' she breathed again. Their bodies were now only inches apart. He looked down at her much smaller frame, seeing an emotion in her eyes that was very familiar to him. She was begging him. Begging him to take it. But he could not... right?

''Is that really what you want?'' He found himself asking. She nodded slowly in response. Thresh seemed to swallow. There was a tension in the air that even he could not ignore. While most of the time he was happy when such a thing was in the air, what bothered him was that this time he was the one that got the chills. And he absolutely loved it. Nobody has ever made him feel that way before. So tense, so alert, so nice. Feelings he hasn't felt for a very long time. He would even go as far as to say that he felt alive.

He could see her swallow, a sign of uncertainty and this instantly made the nice feelings fade away. She was hesitating. She was not sure. He knew that if he were to take her soul, but she regret it later, he would be the one that would be punished. They would all blame him, even her.
''Tell me, why is it that you want to lose your soul?'' he asked, a tone of compassion in his voice. Not many got to see this side of Thresh. Only the ones that were closest to him, such as Hecarim and Yorick. They told him it makes him look... human for a change

She looked down at her feet. They were still extremely close, so it made her look upon his chest instead. She gave a deep sigh. ''I want to lose the memories that come with it. They torture me. Mock me. Taunt me. They are making me go insane''.

There was a long moment of silence between the two as the warden mulled over her explanation. It was because of this that he did not notice her leaning forward until her head rested fully on his chest, her cheek pressed against his cloak. He felt her hands snake over his hips until she wrapped her arms around his torso as far as she could. She gave a deep content sigh, feeling warm.

He was obviously surprised by this gesture. For a minute he did nothing, but then he lifted his left arm and placed it on top of her head, as if petting her. ''If you are really sure about this meet me in the dungeons tomorrow. I need to prepare a few things'' he whispered softly. He could feel her nodding against his chest, a sensation he found himself horribly enjoying. What was she doing to him?

After having heard that he accepted her request. Finally she had found someone that could rid her of this torture, allow her to be free. She had to admit, she never would have guessed that she was able to convince him so quickly after she found out it would pretty much hurt her and give him punishment. She thought it would take weeks, months even to convince him. Then again, he was the keeper of souls, maybe the sight of such a soul unclaimed laying before him made him want to take it.

She recalled the moment when she asked him. She couldn't help it, it just slipped out of her mouth before she realized it, and after that she just went along with it. She remembered how she had to boldly embraced him as if he were a lover, burying her head in his chest. His chest had been warm against her cheek, heating up the already hot skin as it made contact. And she recalled hearing something. A soft throbbing. Not as soft as a heartbeat. It was more sinister, like a low drum. More questions had popped into her head then, but at that moment she just wanted to revel in the feeling of him being so close.

She had to admit, his shroud of mystery was appealing her. It made her so curious and eager to find out. Some would say it was even a form of attraction.

Scratch that, she was clearly attracted to him. The blushing and loss of words when he entered the room or touched her was proof enough of that. But she knew she didn't have a chance. He is undead, and unlike her, his soul had already been deeply corrupted to the point where it could no longer heal. It could not feel, not love or even hold dearly. It was impossible. However, little did she know that she was actually reawakening these feeling within him.

Now that she was actually presented with the idea of her soul being gone, it slightly unnerved her. She knew that this was what she wanted, but she didn't know what it would be like after. She knew she would not die or become lifeless, but would she be the same after the extraction? Would it hurt? Would she be rendered unconscious for who knows how long?
After the extraction Thresh would know everything about her past life. There would be no secrets. He would know everything if he wished it. It would only take a whim of his hand.

No, she should not think this way. There was no reason to be worried. There would be no pain and Thresh would (hopefully) not use her memories against her. That is what she had to believe. She took a deep breath as she placed her hand on the large oaken doors. She realized that they were slightly rotten at the corners, and they somewhat smelled. A welcome appearance.
''meet me at the dungeons tomorrow. I need to prepare a few things''

That's what he said the day before. It was now time. She had taken a quick morning walk to clear her head of any nervousness that still lingered in her mind. She had rose from her bed a few hours before the spectre started his usual routine, so she had enough time. Now however, was the time he would go down into the dungeons.

She took in a deep breath before she opened the large double doors and let herself in, swiftly turning to go down the stairs that led to the dungeon. Judging by the lack of screams Thresh had not yet begun his session. He might still be preparing for the extraction.
Was it really that complicated to extract a soul? She thought he did it many times before. Then again, she had heard that most of his patients had no longer been... living.

She turned the corner and was met with the familiar sight of the torture chamber. The dark chamber was lit by the light of Thresh's lantern, but said spectre was nowhere to be seen. She slowly walked closer to the ominous light, reaching a hand over to try and touch it. As soon as her hand touched the glass a loud scream erupted from it. She saw a tiny face in the lantern, contorted in pain and fear.
''are you ready?''

She spun around in shock only to see Thresh leaning against the doorway. Had he seen what she had done? She swallowed and nodded slowly. ''I will ask you one more time'' he said, pushing himself off the wall and walking towards her, his gaze neutral like always. Again she nodded, not knowing what to say. ''In that case please lay down on that table over there'' he said, pointing towards a metal table with some blankets laid over it. She walked over to it and laid down.

Thresh walked over to the side and placed his lantern beside her head. ''Close your eyes'' he ordered. She did as she was told. She could feel pressure on her chest, like a hand placed on top of it in the middle of her torso. Her breathing became a little more ragged as she waited for it. It felt like ages had passed and she started to fidget, uncomfortable that she did not know what he was doing. It was completely silent, but the pressure remained. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she felt a sharp pain in her chest as 5 daggers were stabbed through it.
She screamed out, her eyes flying open but she could not see anything. Everything was a blur, and it only took a few seconds for her to fall unconscious.

When she opened her eyes she was in a dark area. She could not see any walls, as if she were just standing in nothingness. There was nothing to indicate any form of life. Not up, not down, not in the distance. She spun around to find anything she recognized. She was starting to panic. Where was she? Had Thresh killed her? He wouldn't, would he? Maybe he made a mistake.
"Zapphy'' Her eyes widened. She recognized that nickname. She spun around slowly, not wanting to see the one the voice belonged to. Anyone but him.

But of course it was true. Now standing in front of her was a middle-aged man, dressed in a white button up shirt with a grey jacket and black pants. He had short black hair and a well-kept goatee on his chin. He was, to say the least, a handsome fellow.

''Tres'' she said softly as if she did not believe he was there. ''How about we go home? It has been a long party'' He said, an extremely fake smile appearing on his lips. He stretched out his hand to her. ''Let's go''

''NO!'' she screamed at him, a very high pitched yell that came from her throat. She was distressed. She did not know what to do. She knew what would happen if she were to take his hand.

Suddenly the image of him faded and was replaced by a room. There was a closet, a bed, a dressoir and a mirror on the wall. Looking at the bed she gasped loudly. She saw herself, fast asleep, on the bed. She could hear a door open and turned around to see the same man from before walk inside with that same fake smile on his face.

This was a memory. A memory from her past. She smiled softly to herself as she saw Tres lean down and place a kiss on her image's forehead. But then he pulled something from his back. It was as if she had completely forgotten what he was about to do. the real her gasped loudly and jumped forward as soon as she saw the knife. ''NO! please don't!'' she yelled at him, but he could not hear her. He was a memory after all. A event in the past.

''Sweet dreams'' he whispered cruelly, a psychotic look crossing his face before he brought the knife down. The image of her gasped loudly as her chest was pierced. She looked up at the face of her husband, now splattered with blood. ''Slept well, Sweetie?'' he asked sarcastically. Her image could only gurgle, blood forming in her throat.

He pulled back once more and plunged the knife into her chest again. He did this several times, until he was sure that his wife was dead. ''You murderer! abomination! I hope you burn in the fiery pits of hell!'' The real Zaphara screamed at the image. she wanted to beat him, strangle him, make him suffer like she was, but her arms just kept passing through him. Finally the image faded, and she slumped down onto her knees.
Had she been able to she would be shedding tears endlessly.

This was her curse. The memories of her death. How she was betrayed by the one she loved most. It hurt. It hurt so much more than any normal death. To be betrayed by the one you thought you could trust. She was dead, but her brain and soul were still intact which was the cause of her suffering. She remembered everything clearly, so vividly that she could tell you every single detail.

Her form was shaking from stress, the occasional pathetic whimper was heard from her. She was glad that nobody saw her like this, crumbled on the floor pathetically. Her memories are her weakness. She knew that most undead didn't know about their past life, when they were still living. Only those half-undead like her knew about them. For a second she wondered if Thresh knew his own past, but she knew better than to ask.

She had her arms wrapped around herself when the image turned once again. This time it showed a forest, in front of her being a pile of recently upturned earth with a few touches of grass here and there. A lone traveler walked by, a staff in hand and a purple robe around his form. He placed the staff in front of the pile with a loud thud, and started chanting.

The pile of dirt started slightly glowing before it moved. It looked like something was trying to to the surface of the earth, digging through the loose sand. Finally a hand popped out of the earth. A unearthly groan could be heard as a body slowly emerged from the ground, dirty, clothing ripped and all of its bones shaped in inhumane ways. It looked like it's bones were broken, but it's skin remained surprisingly intact.
The sound of bones breaking filled the air as the limbs seemed to reconstruct themselves. The unearthly creature looked at the human before it with a look of pure loathing. ''I have awakened you. you shall serve me now'' he said.

Little did the man know, this creature had only died recently. Its soul had not yet departed and so it's rage was still very, veryfresh. The creature raised a hand forward, bones shooting out from its arms to penetrate the man's torso, making him cough up blood before falling to the floor. ''I am my own master'' the creature mumbled before stumbling away.

Zaphara gasped, recalling the memory like it was yesterday. She did not know why the necromancer had chosen to revive her, but it had been her downfall. She knew she had taken her revenge on her husband after that, killing him in cold blood before leaving to try and find out another purpose for living. She knew then that everything had changed, but she didn't mind.

To her surprise she could actually feel a wetness on her cheek. She touched the now hot skin to find there was water on it. She didn't know she could cry...

Then suddenly she felt a pressure on her shoulder. She looked at it only to see a black gauntlet placed on it. She slowly looked behind her, only to see the warden himself. Zaphara gasped in shock and immediately stood up from her spot on the floor. She hastily wiped her eyes, not wanting to let him see that she had actually been crying.

''T-thresh, what are you doing here?'' she questioned quickly. Damn it. now Thresh had seen her like this and knew how weak she really was. He must think that she's pathetic now, not worth his time. It almost made Zaphara whimper at the thought of another person hating her. She hated how all of her emotions were still human. ''I am sorry I could not control myself'' she mumbled the apology.

The spectre shook his head in disapproval. ''You are just lucky that the real me cannot see this'' he mumbled. She looked up in surprise, silently questioning this new information. Seeing her confused gaze he explained. ''I am merely a hallucination in your mind, a projection that I use for these things, toexplain things'' he said. ''I am actually surprised that It took my own form. To be fair, I expected someone else'' he said in a almost snobby tone. After seeing that she still did not understand what he was implying he simply started again. ''This is only a projection of Thresh. The real Thresh cannot hear or see anything that is going on here'' He continued. ''I am simply designed to comfort you until you are ready to go back'' She nodded slowly, somewhat understanding what he was doing here.

But why him, she wondered. Why Thresh. Oh, wait she knew why. So far Thresh was the only one that bothered to take her in so far. He and Hecarim had been the only ones who understood her, mainly because they were undead as well and shared her love for torture (which she had grown when she was betrayed)

Suddenly she could feel arms around her and a familiar sense of warmth that engulfed her like a blanket. She had not realized that Thresh had ventured closer and had now wrapped his arms around her. She stared at his chest with wide eyes, wondering what it was that he was doing. The gesture was welcomed, but this was not what he would do.

Then she remembered. He was an image. A projection. It was not the real him. Would she feel guilty if she were to take advantage of this? Would he know? Probably not. So she allowed herself to take advantage. A guilty pleasure if you will.

Her arms snaked around his hips, entangling her fingers behind him. She felt the heat radiating off of him, not knowing if it would be real or if it were her imagination creating it. She gave a content sigh, feeling the worries slip away from her temporarily. It was amazing how a simple hug would mean so much, especially coming from the undead who only felt limited things.

''Zaphara'' She looked up as her name was called, but she nearly choked when she saw what was before her.

There was no flaming skull in front of her. No face devoid of emotion. No green flames circling in the back of his neck. Before her was a normal human face. It was still devoid of emotion, except for his eyes. His skin was incredibly pale, almost white. His face could only be described as perfect. Almond shaped head, perfect angle of his nose, high cheekbones, well defined mouth.

Her eyes scanned him eagerly as she took him in. He merely stared at her as she inspected him, apparently not bothered at all by her rudeness. His hair was white, two braids draped over his shoulders with hooks at the end. He was wearing his normal robe, but it was a lot smaller than she recalled. She also realized that he was incredibly thin and angular, yet she could feel the strong muscles beneath her fingers, slightly flexing occasionally.

But above all, his eyes were the best. They looked at her with indifference, but deep within she could see the swirls of emotion. She could not recognize some of them, but she could see confusion, anger, hatred, kindness. It surprised her to see so much, and even more that she could not identify.

She felt a hand on her cheek and was surprised to realize it felt incredibly warm, despite his pale skin. She realized that he was staring at her with such intensity that it made a shiver run up her spine. What was he thinking? What was he planning? What would be his next move? ''Have you calmed down?'' he asked, obviously not about to explain why this was happening. She nodded slowly.

''Then it is time to wake up'' He said it like... she didn't know how but it send a pleasant shiver up her spine. It sounded like he was implying something else, sounding almost like a purr. She could only stare up at him as he gazed back at her. Was it just her or was he getting closer? It must be her imagination. But then why could she feel his warm breath on her face?

Another shiver shook her whole body, trembling in his arms. She could feel him tighten his grip around her hips, pulling her even closer. She gulped, not absolutely sure that he was leaning in. Something in her mind screamed for her to break free but her body would not listen. It stood frozen as he approached. Finally, when their faces were only an inch away she gave up trying to fight herself. She closed her eyes, waiting for something she didn't know she wanted. Her mouth was slightly open, awaiting the touch.

She could feel the slightest pressure on her lips. It felt so odd. She opened her eyes slowly, onlyto realize Thresh was no longer in front of her. Instead she saw a dark ceiling. Everything was dark actually, only a slight green glow in the distance proved that she was not in a void of darkness.

She groaned softly as she felt a strain in her back. She rolled her shoulders, realizing she was laying on a table of sorts. She rubbed her face before sitting up, swinging her legs over the side. She rubbed her face fiercely to try and clear the sleepiness. However, in its place she could feel throbbing in her head, indication of the start of a headache. A big one.

With another groan she willed herself to open her eyes once more. This time a figure stood in the corner. It was completely dark, so she could not see much, but it looked like the figure was wearing spiky armor.

''So you are the female he has brought here'' The voice was metallic, as if it came from within a hollow case of a tin can. That's honestly what he looked like. Zaphara did not know what to do. She didn't even know this man. He did not seem hostile, yet not friendly either. He stepped closer until he was a few feet away from the table she was sitting. It was then that she realized that he was carrying a gigantic mace with him, and as he came to her table he violently swung it on the table, barely missing her form.

''explain'' he demanded dangerously.