"None bow before the Lord of Horrors..." An ancient whisper echoes through the infinite nothingness.

And somewhere, within finite reality, a sleeper stirs."... yet wherever he may tread, all things kneel."

A loud sniff could be heard throughout the small, white room."Auuurgh..." Followed by a groan and then, a deep, exhausted sigh.

The origin of the sound seemed to twist and turn in his warm bed, the sheets he bought, though overpriced for what they were, twisting with unmeant dexterity as he did."Grrhh..." His bones crackled and popped, his right hand digging into four pillows of varying artistry.

Lines of teal, white and ocean blue. Synthetic, unnatural.

Cheap, and efficient.

Pure white. Empty. The one he always kept buried, whether under his own body or the others.

It reminded him of his soul.

One which fell off of the bed. Crimson and orange, adorned by the imagery of three, pale blue cats with unnaturally long legs and creepy smiles.

Unnamed demons and monsters. Pointless existences which did not exist. Surely.

The last one. A pure blackness. A void amidst a sea of color. He always places it on top.

Buried face-first in the dark, he finds peace.

A peace so deep, it was like... death.

He shook his head. All this depressive thinking has made him sickened, yet he had no idea of what.

Himself?

No. He was far too arrogant of a person to ever be sickened with himself.

A blink, as he finally managed to get out of the bed, the comfy silken sheets being tossed to the side as he reached for his wardrobe. An old, mansion-like wooden piece of furniture. Something he got from an old neighbor back home...

He didn't even remember the mans name anymore.

Then again, there was a time in his life when he didn't remember his own birthday date.

He shook his head and looked towards a hidden tiny door at the end of the wardrobe, blocked from sight by large overcoats and other thick clothing. A place to hide his painkillers. From who?

The police? Ha, no.

They aren't illegal.

He was hiding them from himself.

To forget they exist.

Because he was better than this. He gritted his teeth and slammed the doors of the wardrobe shut, closing the tiny door as well from the sheer force of the blow.

... and then he opened the wardrobe again. He had yet to get dressed, after all.

A pair of blue trousers. A crimson t-shirt with the sentence *Faith is my religion!* etched into it. A black, comfortable hoodie.

Socks, pure white. Cotton, like the buried pillow.

Underwear as well, of course. Though that need not be defined... not like anyone would be seeing it, anyway."Haa..." He let out a massive sigh.

He took his phone, taking it out of its charger. Somehow, the pale black surface of the sleeping electronic device managed to perfectly reflect him.

A pale, emotionless face. The beginnings of a beard, though he swore that he shaved yesterday. His friends always said that he reminded them of a certain president.

The one with a movie about hunting vampires.

He did not care enough to learn the historical figures name.

Swiping left with his thumb, the phone came to life. It was 6:39 AM.

... "Huh."

He pressed an icon on the screen. An app which connected directly to his bank account. 10579 credits.

A blink.

That can't be right. He spent at least 400 credits last night.

Something isn't quite right."EHEHEHHEHEHEHE."

Laughter.

There was nobody else here but him.

He turned around.

His bed had been made.

Three pillows stacked on the rightmost side. White below, black on top. As it should be.

...

The cats.

The colored pillow was in the middle of his bed, upside down and twisted upon itself. He took in a deep sigh."Well fuck you too."

...

The sound of something shattering could be heard.

Blackened skies drenched the oceans."Giving in to the darkness is not the worst thing you can do..."

"... it is however, the easiest thing you can do." Nor voice, nor echoes. Nothing, will save you from the thunder.

Reality.

It is such a cruel concept.

A woman of unnatural beauty was currently laying on top of me. She was neither asleep, nor naked. Her prone form was lowering itself... down, onto my neck.

Instinct too.

Is an incredibly cruel concept, as I am not normally one to act on impulse.

Which is why, when my right hand slammed into the face of the woman on top of me, I was just as surprised as she was. We both quickly leaped off my bed. She screamed in anger as she spat something out, a tooth I think but it looked too crooked to be a regular human tooth."Fuckers! They t-told me this would w-w-work!"

The pale-faced woman was wearing a china-dress of some kind. She also somehow vanished in a puff of black smoke."Was that.. a vampire?" My hands immediately went to my throat. No wounds.

Guess I stopped her before she could do any damage. Good, I suppose.

My phone rang.

A quick glance at the electronic device showed that it was 7:30. It was my alarm... or so I hoped. Turns out, there was someone else. A call from one Joseph Newman, a head cook from one of the nearby five-star restaurants."... hello?"

"Hello yourself, you damn brat. Where's the Ripstag that you promised me?!" I let out massive sigh."Don't worry. Its ready for pickup. Just send someone over... I told you I'd call you as soon as I woke up."

"Well Luce, my customers ain't gonna wait for your sorry ass to get its beauty sleep. Also, you should get yourself a damn drivers neurotrainer already! I know I've paid you enough for you to get at least five of 'em." Luce. Me.

Lucius Prodigium. A freelance hunter.

Killer, if you ask the vegans.

Slayer, if you ask the children.

Psychopath, if you asked me.

A smile etched itself onto my face."Sorry, but my lard ass is a holy relic which can only be transported by paid transport or unlucky newbies~."

"Ha! Oh well. Anyways, Michel is waiting for you outside. Just dump the processed meat into the fridge box and he'll give you what you're owed." ...

Michel."You sent the fucking trap."

"Ye-hup. Maybe wake up earlier like everyone else next time, you damn homophobe." There was nothing more to say. I closed the phone."Welp, best get to work."

"Such is the catharsis-driven nature of humanity..." Empty is the color of his word.

Void, is the echo of your soul."... that they cannot even process the thought of living without joy."

"So... are you gonna give me the crate or are you just going to stand there.. all fucking creepy?" I blinked.

And somehow found myself looking at Michel, aka the pink-haired *trap*. A lithe man, genetically modified by his own mother to be as womanly as possible.

Unlike most, he seems to have taken it in stride."Y-yeah, sure... sorry, ..I-what was I?.." There was a plastic crate in my hands. The kind I use to store the meat from my wild game after I skin and divide it.

I cautiously opened the crate. The correct parts were there. Nothing was wrong.

Only that I had no memory of picking it all up and placing it into the crate.

Or getting dressed, for that matter. Fuck... I was wearing the things from the dream, the hallucination that vampire forced on me."A-anyways, give my regards to the boss."

Michel tilted his head."You mean, you don't want to be paid?"

My hands rushed instinctively into my own pockets and dragged out my Omnicard."Ah, sorry. Stable income and all that.. not really used to it yet."

He blinked but shrugged."I guess I can see that happening to ya." He took a card of his own and passed it over mine. There was a clinking sound, before his card turned to dust."Well, that's that. Anyways, the boss told me to remind you that he sent you an email of what wildlife he wants hunted down next."

"Thanks, mate." I turned back around and went into my house, basically charging inside to reach for my bathroom. I took a good look at myself.

Short, black hair. Check!

Emotionless, pale face. Check!

One 120kg fat ass? Check!

Eye color? Bright blue. Check!

Skin coloration? White as death. Check!

I...

Somehow appear to be perfectly fine.

Or well, my version of whatever can be described as *fine*.

I found myself chuckling as I walked out of this dreary bathroom into my living/kitchen... room.

A basic, standard template fabricator laid on the limestone wall next to me. Limestone, cheap, cheap limestone.

One of the many treasures this planet had on it.

Eredea.

A beautiful, almost completely earth-like world, covered in sprawling oceans, vast mineral-rich mountains and tempestuous forests. It is a Pangaea-in-denial, as I like to call it. One gigantic super-continent which is surrounded by a large, unending ocean whose waters have already begun to carve the inside of the continent, separating it slowly by sea-sized lakes and rivers that span thousands of kilometers.

A world several star systems away from Earth, the birthplace of humanity. Mine as well, something my neighbors are more than happy to continue reminding me of, the fucking xenophobes.

Earthquakes happen quite often here, surprising absolutely no-one, other than the overly-corrupt Planetary Government who always makes a scene out of every minor shake.

The Chaos they create is easily exploitable and Eredea is a newly-colonized world, so its not like anyone really cares about its tectonic inner-workings. Not yet, anyways.

Me? I don't really give a crap about any of it.

I'm a hunter.

A freelancer who makes a living by slaughtering the poor, passive flora and fauna of this world, chops it all up for precious bits and bobs, which are then sold to the highest bidder. Currently, this position is held by one Joseph Newman, an Eredite man, which means born here, who has a curious penchant for making good business deals.

While also retaining the honor to not abuse anyone of his partners. Gotta give it to the man, hes one of the first people to set up a restaurant which sells food made solely from stuff native to the world, even if it hasn't yet all been properly *checked out* by our glorious government, the oh-so-glorious Singularity Of Man.

Or SOM, for short.

Based on the ideal that humanity is unique and no matter what the differences between each one of us, we are all innately Human and that we should be proud of all of our colors and cultures.

We have an Emperor who has the power to veto the shit out of everybody.

Yet we are said to be ruled by an enlightened council of businessmen, clergymen, scientists and military personnel. The Emperor, I admit, is a bit of a traditional role at this point. Even though it is all powerful and has proven its use from time to time, our current *glorious leader* is an indolent, slothful asshole that couldn't care less for anything else other than what might *feel good* in the next five seconds.

Shaking my head out of my stupor, I find that I've somehow managed to turn on my computer and make coffee while not really being fully aware of doing it."I should go see a doctor."

Suddenly, the sound of a dying milkwhale could be heard echoing in my homey, homey, home."... maybe I should eat first, though."

Downing the coffee in one go, I open up the fridge."Urgh.. nothing but stupid sh-"

My doorbell rang, causing me to blink. Shrugging to myself, I walked over to the pure-white door and opened it slowly."Hello?"

A small man with blue, wave-like markings on his face appeared before me. While the markings don't really have a name of their own, they're a form of tattoo that the natives here use to distinguish themselves from otherworlders... well, the more xenophobic of them do, anyways."Your order has arrived, sir! Mel's Speed-cookery always delivers!"

Mel's?.. Oh yeah, that one fast food place two streets down from my- wait, when did I order anything?

Taking a look at the box, I realized that it was a piece of earth venison with potatoes and some kind of sauce.

Perhaps it was nostalgia.

Maybe its just the fact that I'm insane already.

But I decided not to question it and just shrugged."How much do I owe you?"

"That'll be thirty-six credits, sir!" The guy cheerfully stated as I pressed the aforementioned amount into the mini-keyboard of my omnicard. He quickly took his own out and, much like Michel did before, I passed my card over his."Payment confirmed. Have a nice day, sir!"

I took the box into my hand and nodded at the guy but before I could close the door, he stopped me by putting his right hand onto my shoulder."... something else you need, kid?"

Okay, maybe it was a bit insulting to call him a kid, but the guy was maybe fifteen at best. Shit, that makes me sound old as fuck.

I'm twenty-two, thank you very much."The one below... infinite stares... bubbles of flesh and blood..." I blinked as the kids head tilted in a way which should have killed him, looking at me as his eyes turned crimson and started to bleed."Become my new flesh!" He suddenly screamed, causing me to send a kick straight into his nuts by reflex.

His body doubled over in pain and the crimson eyes looked like they were about to pop."W-what i-is t-this p-PAIN?! Body so... ..." He dozed off.

Or so I thought, as the kid seemed to regain his eyes and sanity within moments."W-what was I?.. ow, what the fuc- holy fuck this hurts."

"Uhm. Sorry about that, kid... maybe you should go see a doctor. Your eyes are bleeding." That caught his attention as he immediately wiped the blood off of his cheek."H-huh? Y-yeah.. I'll uh.. do that."

I closed the door behind me. My phone rang as soon as the darkness covered me.

An unknown caller.

Ah fuck it. Might as well."Hello! You've reached [Insert-Eldritch-God-Here] Industries, how can I help you?"

"... I was... going.. to ask.. why you resisted... my possession..." A implausibly deep voice echoed from the other side, almost as if submerged. It clearly wasn't human."Who knows? Maybe if you asked me nicely, I would have given you my body."

"W-what d-d-does... n-nicely... m-m-m-mean?" The figure's voice was echoing."Oh, I don't know. Maybe you could've offered me infinite power or something first before you tried to violate my soul."

The voice did not respond and the call died right afterwards."How rude." Being something that is possibly an ancient, eldritch god does not make one an exception to the rule of good manners. Then again... maybe I should keep my mouth shut.

I walked into the living room once again, only to see a piece of fish skin pop into reality at my table. On the many scales of the still-bloody piece of flesh were written the words: I'm sorry.

...

Fuck, now I feel bad.

"And so the wheel of fate churns ever-forward..." The sleeper has awakened.

... but it is not the sleeper, whom they, should fear. "... ever-defiant of the chaos it leaves behind."