"Are you out of your mind?!" Gyone shouted. He jerked his reanimator closer in an angry jolt, "Make sense, and fast!"

The mysterious man took an unexpected pause from his trained action to reach through his coat. A satisfied smirk was unraveling his anonymity.

"Well, aren't you the persistent type?" he coyly suggested. The man whipped out a soggy piece of parchment and began reading aloud. "Let me level with you, Mr. Irensho. When your human body expired, so did all thought; your sight, hearing, and other senses ceased to exist." He recited while counting all the reasons on his gloved hand. "Your body couldn't possibly had known if you were dead or not so it is understandable if you're still very confused."

"Well, aren't you the smartass-y type?"

Gyone clenched his left fist so the joints would crack with rejuvenated life; fresh blood slaved through his veins once more. "You really expect me to-"

"Death of the brain halted all processes, obviously," with an eyeroll. The figure had interrupted Gyone as if he had not spoken a single word. He continued rushing along the paper with all the enthusiasm of a wet rag. "But as I have exemplified to you today." He stopped, stared deep down into Gyone, "death is no longer out of our control." He flavored his final words with a silly forebode, but nothing close to heart-pumping. Eager to move on, the man casually crumpled the paper and threw it aside. "Now, that's page one out of the way, let's move on to-"

"Okay I get it, I was dead! But that doesn't explain one damn thing as far as I'm concerned." Gyone's face expressed great frustration, his snarly exclamation cutting the man short as he roughly hucked him astray.

Rain began to pour yet again within their exchange. First, with a crack of thunder. He crushed the prompt paper further into the soil in his stride, closing the distance he had created. "How am I here talking to you, if that's true? Shouldn't I be motor-boating angels in the sky or something?" The hunter made no vague threat in the way he stared. "You've got ten seconds."

The man began to chuckle, disregarding any weight. He must've heard this times before by now. "Just look down. It'll all start making sense soon enough." He elicited a grin to curl under his hood.

Gyone spotted the amulet embedded in his being. Shock and fury soon took the reins all at once at the sight. In a fit of panic, the hardened hunter then distressingly attempted to dislodge the accursed object.

"What the hell is this thing?!" He pried, giving a hard tug on the amulet with both hands. As hard as Irensho tried, all that was managed was more harm; each pull surged piercing pain throughout his entire body.

The man turned away. "Now, I don't think you'll want that to come off anytime soon," he said.

Gyone, now aggravated beyond reason, locked and loaded like a gun, halting with piercing eyes. "Agh—and just why the hell not?!" under grit teeth.

The man craned his head back. He shrugged. "No, no. Please keep pulling!" sarcasm physically seeping through the man's concern. "Especially if you want to be buried a second time ..."

Gyone peered back: "What are you saying?"

The man laughed as if unveiling some preposterous surprise.

"Isn't it obvious yet, Gyone?! I'd have thought you would've caught on much sooner than this! What you love, what you hate, what you desire, and everything else that is and whatever you will be is inside that amulet." The man shot a flagrant glare, complete with accusative pointer finger. "Remove it, and you will be joining the others in this godforsaken cemetery once more!"

The playful entity had fully backed his delivery, a line possibly under one of those introductory scripts he had practiced. In spite of his sparks, all fell somber for a moment.

Gyone clenched onto the amulet, throbbing and beating as if it were a human heart.

This silence was only encompassed further when new winds whisked each of their clothes to drum against their persons. A piano percussion was left to resonate for a critical mass.

The hunter soon broke the rhythm, gazed astray into the wild forest brushes beating against itself.

"So why me?"

An erupting urgency muddled the man's precise, sagacious chords. "Simply put, dead or not, you are the only one who can help us with our 'problem.'"

Gyone adapted well, considering how bizarre these moments had proven to be. Calm as he may get, though, nothing could avert the aggression he harbored for uninvited clients demanding contract work. An age-old assumption was put to rest as the hitman, indeed, carried this resentment to the grave and back. The hunter glared at the figure, erupted.

"Hold on just one goddamn minute!" Gyone shouted. "At least give me a name before you start barking orders at me!"

The figure shifted, addressing tone turned pondering for a moment as the hunter ceased his assault—panting like a mutt.

At the very least, the figure appeared for questions.

"Hmm ... Well, I can only imagine what you feel entitled to, Mr. Irensho. I'll explain everything in time.

"Right now though, our 'problem' may be closing in soon and-"

"And what would this 'problem' be exactly?"

Not a moment sooner, Gyone's fiery, mock-jested approach was challenged when a large, shadowy beast molded itself from the ground like culling into existence. A process clanging ghastly, restless noises as it shook the cemetery's foundation – and its inhabitant's sleep.

It arose just a foot over either of the two's height when fully assembled. It produced as a mound of pure, tangible hunger.

Their oozing body beat into the soil, unearthing gleaming silver claws as red eyes peered violently into Gyone. Sharp horns perked from its misshapen head, and shackles barely clung upon each hoof. This new horror had escaped imprisonment, but from where is uncertain.

It didn't dig up to the surface. Rather, the ground below remained a muddy patch-grass lot virtually untouched beneath.

Without reprieve, the daunting monster roared demonically. It was fully intent on quelling its chops with whatever was stupid enough to stand in its wake.

"That's our problem!" The man's immediate backpedal relayed tasty cowardice to the beast.

Gyone surveyed his immediate surroundings on instinct, searching eagerly for something he can use as a weapon. Luckily for the hunter, he spotted his coffin. And resting awkwardly against his wooden tomb was a scythe weapon.

The shaft glowed with a glossy black. Two silver blades lined the top; one large, curved blade at the peak and another smaller, straight-edged blade not unlike a dagger base far down. The smaller blade also possessed two iron brackets, spread apart by an inch. A bite from these blades could easily create a foothold, able to rip and tear through bone.

"Gale ..." Gyone uttered faintly. Familiarity was prominent in the way he let it slip.

The beast blocked the way, however, standing the ground before the two with ferocity. Almost as if it knew the dangers of such a reunion.

Gyone's eyes met with those of the shadow creature. Though frightened, he accepted its challenge as he broke into a sprint towards the coffin.

This Irensho was famous for his reckless abandon; and despite lacking any sort of knowledge on this abominable enemy, his true colors shone through the bleak greens and overcast grey as he whisked his body to the left of the beast.

In quick response, the man shouted, "No, you careless bastard!"

All his work, bashing its head into a brick wall to spite its creator.

Suddenly, the beast called the hitman's bluff. It lunged its razor-sharp claws ferociously and swatted Gyone into that of a cascading ragdoll.

Tough shit for Gyone, the frame of the incoming coffin was very sturdy and lined with steel. He braced for impact.

Soon, his spiral ended with a crunch from the base wood. However painful, the coffin was the only bit of matter keeping the hunter from plunging six feet under again straight into the hole. Not a death sentence, but certainly a disadvantage. One lesson he learned long ago always recited itself in moments like this.

Headstrong, with a dash of luck, goes a long way.

Gyone steadily clambered back to his feet against the coffin. The attack was far from a lethal strike, but left a nasty tear in his left arm atop some body bruises.

Nothing he couldn't walk off.

Though more questionable was the dark ooze from the beast that lingered upon his wound. His own blood was cordial and mixed in the gout.

Gyone looked up to investigate this monster; the very body was unstable, stringy flesh and dying hair all soaked in sludge. The hunter figured that if he were to destabilize its balance, it would have to slime around like a pile of snakes.

In that, he couldn't imagine which foe would be worse. Suddenly, a grunt escaped from the hunter when that very same substance collided in his cut and lined it completely. It burned him like fresh ash rubbed in from a cigarette.

He gritted his teeth.

The beast then lurched to flank, immediately stomping its mangled claws in an attempt to intimidate. Another pounce was near.

Both of the desperate animals continued to dissect each other, ready to exploit one another's body language at a moment's notice.

Finally, the beast lunged.

It wildly soared through the air with both front claws splayed. Gyone was quick, hurriedly grabbing his scythe and flinging his body in a backflip across the six-foot chasm at his back. The beast toppled through the coffin and feeble craft of the headstone, sending a hail of cobble and wood forward. Charging wind alone willed debris to further follow the beast's flurry like spears.

With Gyone only marginally able to escape, he clenched onto the beast's slimy hair atop its back as it passed. Gyone clung on, clashing against the beast's primal velocity with only the slimmest of prayers. The reckless hunter then let go with his right arm and gathered his weapon to ride the current. He desperately strengthened his left hand's grip—Don't give into the pain!

He thrusted forward with all of his might, a hook to catch the chest.

Now or never.

It stuck!

He had cleaved into the heart of the beast at its chest where an amulet similar to Gyone's own lye.

The charging momentum sloppily halted. The beast slowed, toppled under its own dying weight and crashed its head to dig into premature mud.

Gyone leapt from the beast.

While descending, he watched the unnatural animal then slowly begin to deteriorate into a pool of dark ooze as if there were never a bone in its body. The only thing left behind were its shackles.

Unnerved, the victorious hunter counted his blessings. He retreated, turned about-face to walk away with a fresh victory: a shining start to a second wind.

He couldn't help but smile.

Gyone began rummaging through the coffin debris. To his surprise, this death bed was a very decaded place to be laid to rest. Silk red bed lining—all it was missing was a mini bar. Gyone began thinking of who could have afforded such a thing.

He soon found a strap of flexible rubber material which appeared to be worn at the ends of each side. He took it upon himself to tie each end of the shaft with this strap.

Tightly wound, bottom to top.

A bow without an arrow.

Gyone threw the makeshift holster over his right shoulder and swung the lightweight scythe around to a rest, the curved blades hanging sideways down his back. He leaned his elbows against his scythe. "'Mind explaining what that was?" asked Gyone.

The man shook his head, turning away from observing the beast's remains: "We don't know."

"Bullshit!"

Gyone stoked an absolute roar: "What was that thing?! It had the same damn—skull in its chest!" He fumed, "Just like mine." He approached the figure with a stern advance. "Now, I won't ask again: start. Talking." He rose the beak of his blade in warning and shot an icy stare that assured he's killed for less.

The man—breathing a calm air, not a guilty bone in his body—exhaled, more than happy to oblige.

"As you wish.

"We were able to mimic this phenomenon and used it for reanimating you. That skull is a relic of pure necromancy, and whoever harnessed it—or created it in the first place is planning much more, surely. Normal humans and weapons work, but not well enough, as me and my men have unfortunately realized.

"So, how do we combat this event efficiently and with little to no casualties?

"We fight fire with fire. In turn"—he presented both hands, open palms upward—"you, Mr. Irensho: the most deadly man in all of Crygor."

Gyone scoffed: "Looks like Valkyrie's throwing out contracts on my behalf. Crazy, old man."

"No, no. Your reputation alone is what brought us together. However, I can pay you in much more extravagant ways than any employer ever could."

Gyone parted an inquisitive hum to which the man scuttled forward in offering. "Please, Gyone Irensho. Help us bring this horrible poison to an end. And only then can I afford to let you rest."

Gyone turned away to the gates which trailed down a bristling road. The forest was threatening to steal him away. The rain now sopped the earth again; thunder could be heard cracking in the distance. His breath exhaled into a sigh, sure as to not give eye contact to the offer. Guilt, even longing appeared to envelop the hunter's expression.

"No, thanks." Gyone deflated some. "Find somebody else ... I have somewhere to be.

"Sorry."

With those words, Gyone began to make his exit. A slight limp still hindered each step he took. Nothing could hold him back now, though.

A sigh escaped the anonymous man: "We're not forcing you to cooperate. Just a simple 'no' would've been fine," he said, bolstering to a tangent. "I mean, it's just a matter of life and death, right? No big deal or anything!"

Gyone spoke nothing more as he persisted onward. While the hunter pushed open the duel gates, the man, now without an audience placed his finger on a small bud in the center of his ear canal.

"This one's not going to cooperate so easy, unfortunately," regressed the man. "Release the experiments.

"See if we can't persuade him yet."