Minion

I remember the time exactly. 3:33. AM, that is. Half past three in the morning. I awoke, shivering and my breath coiled above me, a ghostly claw in the air reaching for the ceiling. Of course, this shouldn't have been possible in the middle of summer and I did question the plausibility of a sudden drop in temperature as I sat up and looked around. Normally, I'd go back to sleep but something was...off. I don't know. I couldn't put my finger on it at the time.

So yeah, I sat up. You've probably guessed by now that there was somebody else in my room, and the fact that my bedroom was a refrigerator explains that said somebody was in fact a ghost, a poltergeist, a spirit, a spectre, a phantom; whatever you want to call it. It was a dead person, a dead girl. My girlfriend was standing in my bedroom, dead.

I didn't know she was dead when I first looked at her, so I turned on my bedside lamp to make sure it was her and I could see right through her (although I could do that well enough while she were alive).
Naturally I was shocked and I let out a loud yell, which nobody seemed to respond to. While my girlfriend was dead, my family were dead to the world in their lovely dream-filled sleeps, lucky them.

"How..? What? I don't understand." I spluttered sleepily, reaching out my hand to meet nothing but icy cold air. "How can you be dead? I just saw you last night! I bought you flowers, remember?"
"Yes, you bought me roses. You gave me three of them, in fact. You purchased four then gave one to an attractive girl you saw on the way to meet me." She replied in a monotone.
"How do you... Who told you that?" I swung my legs out of bed and stood on the cold, black floor. This was weird because my carpet is a hideous shade of green, not black. I glanced down and saw that my feet were enveloped in some thick black fog. Dark, it was darker than anything I'd ever seen. It was darker than the darkest black, some kind of unbending fog of death, a sludge that felt of nothing. It drifted in all directions from a single fixed point and rising from that point were the ankles of my dead girlfriend.

"I saw it. I saw everything you've done. Not that I care in the least, nothing you have ever chosen to do or not do made any impact on this world, your life is irrelevant. I do not care that you exist, nor will anybody mind should you disappear." My girlfriend said, her voice neither raising nor lowering in tone or pitch for the duration of her short speech. I shuddered violently. This wasn't like her at all. The confidence she seemed to have gained through death was making me angry.
"How dare you talk to me like that! I've spent so much money on you, now it's clear to me that I wasted that as well as my time! Ungrateful bitch! I'm glad you're dead, get out of my room and leave me to sleep. I never loved you anyway!" I shouted, my face contorted with rage.

She smiled, faintly. The smile held steady for a few seconds before breaking into a hideous evil grin. The light of the moon illuminated her in a way that made her look less human than she ever had been, her cheekbones slightly too high, her face seemed more withered than it had been in life. As her smirk subsided, she looked less like the girl I had known and more like a monster.
Locking her eyes with mine, she reached into my chest and wrapped her hand, or claw or whatever it was around my heart. Clenching her talon she pierced my heart with her nails, jets of blood sprayed from my torso and splattered up the wall.
I fell beneath the fog.

The Dark swirled above me as if drawn to the scent of my blood. It crept, slowly at first, into the wound where my heart had been. It poured into the fissure in my chest, flooding my veins with blackness. The sludge reached my brain, every nerve in my body was set ablaze and my mind began to tear, shreds of consciousness becoming one with the fog. I tried to pull myself up, to escape the terrible fate I was suffering.

It was at this point that I noticed the changes to my body; my arms were black, wisps of black smoke exhaling from every pore. Further down toward my hands, I could see the blackness spreading through my veins, my fingers became necrotic and several dropped off. I was left with two black claws, maggots crawling from the stumps where two fingers from each hand had rotted away.

Through the pain I felt a strength flowing into me, as if leeched from a nightmare somewhere near, maybe my mother or sister, or my father. The fear and pain gave me vigour and I pulled myself up through the Dark, to stand face to hideous face with my new master. Two red eyes glowed back at me from the spot where my 'girlfriend' had been standing. Black blood oozed from my chest and burned through the floor beneath the Dark and the three-clawed monster in front of me shifted, its features becoming difficult to focus on. It drifted toward the window and flitted away into the air, a dark shape disappearing into the swirling clouds above.

Feeling my calling, I followed the creature.

The pain is still constant, in undeath there is no relief.