One by one the faint lights from the buildings bordering the busy streets turn off as dawn approached. People scatter everywhere. Many speaking into their phones, some seeking their destinations, and others wandering through the pavements in the early morning. The only flaw in this seemingly normal crowd is that not everyone is alive.

All believe that death is the end for everybody, that when one dies, his or her soul would hopefully be accepted by the Lord above and rest for eternity. Well, that concept applies only to believers. For atheists, dying is simply dying. But all are mistaken. You are mistaken incredibly.

Every second, a person dies somewhere on Earth, though it is in exchange for a new life born. However, this fact conceals another truth ___ with every person who dies, not only a new life is born but a life is reborn. This cycle has been occurring for hundreds of years without any human realizing it is. Now, you might wonder how a planet such as Earth with lands that can only hold seven billion people is sustaining billions more. The only answer is that with every reborn Dead comes with great stupidity and carelessness. These creatures assume that they can do whatever they please and having merely vague memories as humans, they tend to forget the myths about them. Drinking blood, wooden stakes, silver crosses…the list goes on. These aspects of the creatures are huge bullsh*t. In fact, how vampires really live are quite the irony.

As the sunlight illuminates the cement, people amble forward and back, minding their own business. An abnormally dark person crosses the street and just as he steps at the edge of the sidewalk, the light reaches his face, instantly blinding him. Swiftly, his skin begins cremating and his screams sounded everywhere. Though, only a few heard him. Those few were watching silently from the shadowed alleyways.

The dark man was gaping at his ashes on the ground, lifting his arms to find nothing. Every second that passed, a limb was turned into dust and very soon, his entire form was gone. People walked by as if nothing happened. No one had helped him because only his kind had seen.

Unlike the famous myths, the Undead don’t depend on fresh veins to live. Instead, they depend on each other. Since thousands of them are reborn every day, thousands of them feed on each other every hour. They aren’t human, they aren’t ghosts either. They hardly even call themselves monsters. They are their own secret ___ a secret where one only finds out after death. But how come no human sees or feels them? Only I know because I created them.

I am no Undead nor God. I am in a world in this asylum. You see, when you’re stuck in a white room wearing a straitjacket with nothing but a pale wall to look at, you begin seeing things.

They tell me that being locked in this room and not being able to use my arms is the best for me. They said that this way, I wouldn’t kill anyone. But honestly, being isolated from everyone made me see everything. When someone brings food to my cell, I tell them my precious secret. They look at me as if I was a senseless person but truthfully, they are the ones who are insane!

“Just watch,” I say aloud, “once I become reborn I will show how crazy you all are!”