The Skeleton’s Path to the Throne
Ten years after his death, Wade was resurrected as a skeleton on a desolate wasteland. He had thought he would simply fade away like dying embers, never expecting that a mysterious twenty-sided die wo
At the foot of a barren hillside where not a blade of grass grew, Wade shoveled sand and gravel from beneath his feet, the earth piling up beside him into a small mound that now reached as high as his shinbone.
Without a pocket watch to mark the time, he had no way of knowing exactly how long he’d been digging, but by the feel of it, it had been quite a while. The hole before him had grown considerably, expanding from the size of a bucket’s mouth to as wide as a well.
Just a little more and the hole would reach the size he wanted—then the first step of his work would be complete.
As he dug, Wade’s thoughts drifted to how he would transform this burrow. This place was likely to become his home from now on; the spot where he would sleep and rest could not be taken lightly. He had no grand ambitions for luxury or comfort, but it needed to be safe—solid and reliable at the very least.
He’d already envisioned some modifications before he started. This was his first time living in a cave, after all. Best to try it out himself—only then would he know what made for a comfortable dwelling.
But as he dug, something unexpected happened.
Through the vibrations in the bones of his feet, Wade heard an intermittent creaking sound.
It came from ahead, and he had a strong suspicion of what it might be. He set down his tools, climbed the slope, and looked out over the endless wasteland.
As he’d guessed, it was a skeleton.
Its pale, desiccated bones rattled as it stumbled forward, the fire of its soul flickering in its hollow eye socket