A New Life.

[muhaha8]

((A warning, as there will be plenty of language. Gorey scenes may occur, depending upon what I allow to happen. This is the story of Aulten, post-revival.))

"... Shit... This hurts..."

He opened his eyes rather slowly. Such a simple effort took great focus on his part. His eyes flicked around the room, before closing. His old room. He lay in it again. But... How did he get there?

"... I'm... I'm... Alive?"

His lips contorted into a painful smile. Breathing ragged and laborous, the man opened his mouth to utter the words. Nothing but a hushed whisper came from his lips. He sighed, and attempted to lift his head from the pillow it lay on. It rose an inch or two, then fell back.

"... Can't move... Can't speak... Can't feel my body... I'm numb..."

His face contorted into a silent scream as his entire body spasmed, wracked with pain beyond his wildest imagination. Must've been the lack of Fel Blood in his system. He didn't want it anymore. He wanted freedom. He wanted life without restraint. He would get what he wanted.

"... I need to retire."

And with that final thought, Aulten fell asleep on the bed. His breathing slowed slightly, and became less forced and ragged. Rest would do him good.

[muhaha8]

"... Another fucking day... More time to just sit here and do nothing..."

The previous day, Nemeth, Sanarath, whatever he called himself that day of the week, had stopped by. He seemed to know of Aulten's predicament, and had brought along a sack filled with flesh, and bone. He emptied it onto the floor, and used it to create a Skeletal Abberation. The soul of this Undead beast was infused into the cane Aulten now carried. He also helped dress Aulten in a new suit, one he said was enchanted to increase his resistance to magic. It didn't look half bad, either. And, there, the next morning, Aulten sat, in his Undead wheelchair.

"At least he did this shit for me..."

The Abberation allowed for limited mobility, although he was still stricken with bouts of debilitating paralysis. He was able to travel, albeit slowly, throughout the Catacombs. Speech, however, was still impossible. Maybe another day...

"... At least I can get out of that hellhole of a room now... I still think I need to retire..."

Aulten weakly swung the cane back towards his room, and the Abberation walked that way.

"... Until tomorrow. We'll see..."

[muhaha8]

((for the purpose of dealing with confusion, all text in italics will be Aulten's thoughts. Non-italic text will be spoken words.))

Aulten slowly raised his arm from the arm of his distorted, fleshy, Undead wheelchair. It weakly rose about a foot above the surface, before dropping back, hanging limply. Movement was coming back in ever greater amounts, but he still could not stand on his own. He had managed to remove himself from the wheelchair to his bed to sleep, instead of sleeping in his wheelchair, but the task greatly weakened him. Lately, he hadn't bothered to try to speak, as he thought it was out of his grasp currently. It seems things change, however...

Aulten took a deep breath. A hollow gasp emerged from his lips, followed by a faint, "... Shit..." The weakened human let out a low growl from the exertion of his weakened vocal chords.

"... I spoke...? Maybe I can speak more..."

He opened his mouth to utter the first words he thought of, upon arising from his coma. A hoarse wheeze, followed by a wracking cough. He tried again, and his body shook with the near-silent cough. After several moments, he tried a third time, hoping that the third time would be the charm.

"... I'm alive..."

He smirked as the words came forth from his lips. Another step towards his recovery, and, what he hoped would result in his leaving the damned place he was trapped.

[muhaha8]

Aulten sat there, for the third day in a row, in his wheelchair. Hr groaned, and his body ached greatly. He had managed to stand, but thus far had been physically incapable of walking; instead, he had only stood in order to lower himself into his bed. Today, this would all change. The crippled old man dug his cane into the ground and gritted his teeth. Pushing against the cane, digging it deeper, he dragged himself to hie feet.

Taking a moment or two to recover, he started to push his cane further in front of him, keeping it in constant contact with the floor, as to retain his balance. He shuffled his feet forward, very slowly at first, but then with an ever-increasing speed.

"... I can walk...! I can walk...!"

It didn't talk Aulten too much longer to begin taking short steps, daring enough to lift his feet off the ground for more than a split second. Wqving his cane, he smirked as the wheelchair moved itself into the corner of his room. His movements still shaky, the old man exited his room, hobbling along with his cane. He didn't know where he was going, but he had a Gnome to find.

"... And with this, another step towards my freedom."

[muhaha8]

Some two weeks had passed since Aulten learned he could again walk. He had headed off to Stormwind, in this time, to hopefully absolve himself of his former deeds. He was successful. A young Priestess had blessed the old man, and granted him sanction. Now, he just needed to refine his skills again. Off to his old house in Duskwood, he went. He sat there for several days, until that fateful Friday evening.

...

It was quite late at night. The sun, which never rose in Duskwood, was somewhere far off, forsaking the place of all light. Aulten sat, against the fireplace, candle on a broken table, book in the other hand. It didn't take long before there was a rattling noise, as if someone were lightly hitting the door. He frowned, and walked over, opening the door. Nothing outside. He muttered rather incoherently about those damn kids and getting off his lawn. Accidentally, he left the door slightly ajar.

It didn't take long before Bailey slipped through the crack in the door, and hid on the other side of the large support pillar, on the side opposite Aulten. The little Fel Sworn giggled softly, as she caused the fireplace to burst into a green flame. Such an act scared Aulten, and the old man moved faster than he had since his revival, to the east wall of the house. He spotted Bailey, and frowned, head tilted slightly sideways. The little beast approached him, boasting about Aulten being a good snack.

Aulten extended his palms slightly toward Bailey, acting rather scared. He began mumbling incoherently. "Better be you praying, and not a spell, old man!" screamed the little Fel Sworn. Suddenly, a line of Fel issued forth from Aulten's palms, and connected itself to Bailey. The Fel Sworn roared, and went to kick Aulten. She stopped, frozen, mid-kick. The old man stood slowly, awkwardly, and smirked at Bailey. "Now now, you don't want to hurt your master, do you?" He chuckled softly, filled with a power and rage he hadn't felt for a month, and that he hadn't wanted to feel. He growled lowly, loving this feeling. He cackled, and thus began to torture Bailey the Fel Sworn.

To be continued...