His eyelids flung open revealing eyes wide with terror after a nightmare of hell. Monitors beeped erratically as the bed-bound man coughed into his breathing mask. The man was Harvey Edison, and there was no cure for him. He didn't want to die. He was too young. Death is for people who have lived a long life, been able to get married and have a family. Instead, his youth was stolen from him by some curse of the powers that be, and he lay pale and weak, all alone. He felt a sudden hatred to the nurse stationed at his residence for not rushing to him with his cough. No one cares about a dying man. Death was coming for him. He could feel it... or wait, someone. There was a dark figure sitting in the corner. The moribund man tried to reach out his hand to contact his attendant but withdrew it. He was dying. He had nothing to fear now in this life.
The figure seemed to rise and step into the dim light, a man clad in black with a high collar. His skin was white, not just pale, white. But the most striking feature of him was his glowing red eyes. Harvey choked out a few syllables as the stranger stalked slowly towards him. "Who-who are you?"
"That depends." The voice was a strange mixture of menacing and soothing, saturated by a deep resonance. "My given name is Gregory Rėza, but you may come to know me as your invitation to a new life." As his face drew into a smile, the patient could almost swear his saw skull-like shadows showing through the translucent white skin. The monitor beeped faster as his breathing and heart rate increased. He wasn't sure if it was excitement or fear. "I've come to offer you a choice: to die today and have your soul go whither it is destined to fly or to be reborn as something far different than your frail, mortal coil."
"Yes! Please, anything. I am in so much pain, but death... I can't... what must I do?"
The almost cadaverous yet stylishly dressed figure reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small book and opened it. "You can sign this card, and I will give you new life. There are conditions, of course. As you have few close friends or family and your will states you will be cremated, you are eligible for my offer. You will work for me to avoid unnecessary attention to your condition. You will not kill anyone of notoriety lest you draw attention to yourself. You will not share your gift with anyone unless you have my permission. It will come with many benefits, but also some weaknesses. If you agree to these terms but break them, I will not hesitate to finish what nature started."
A weak smile was barely visible behind his respiratory mask. "Where do I sign?"
The stranger opened the book and withdrew a blank card, handing it to Harvey. He set the hollowed out book on the nightstand and extended a hand toward him. "Your hand, please." Harvey reached out a shaking hand to be held by his benefactor. He shivered at the coldness of his skin. Again, Rėza reached into his pocket and pulled out a fountain pen. "This might hurt a little." With that, he cut the tip of Harvey's finger. He unscrewed the pen and squeezed the blood into it. He handed the pen to the sickly man who quickly scribbled his signature, only mildly disconcerted by the use of his own blood. Rėza smiled. He took a small vial from the book container and drew down the oxygen mask. Harvey gasped at the change in air quality. "Now, if you would open your mouth... there is a potent poison within this concoction which will make your death quick and painless. When you awake, you will feel entirely better."
The edges of his mouth curved upward at the thought as Harvey parted his lips to receive the potion. He felt a few drops of the thick, bloody liquid on his tongue. As he swallowed, he instantly felt dizzy. He could feel a wetness on his forehead like Rėza was anointing him as he spoke a strange language. He began to feel weak and numb, and his lids fell. Then there was only blackness.
His eyes flung open. How long had he been out? He wasn't sure if it was a few seconds or an eternity. He felt different, stronger. He sat up and looked at Rėza. Instantly, one sensation came to mind. "I'm... I'm hungry."
Gregory Rėza smiled. "Welcome to undeath, Mr. Edison."
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