Most people wonder what the afterlife is like. Those who follow the Light believe in Heaven: a place where you feel no more pain, no hunger, have no needs or wants, because the Light provides for all. Some believe in reincarnation. Others believe their ancestors linger, to give advice as needed.
 For myself and those like me, the afterlife is hell.
 Our memories were stolen, subverted, perverted, twisted. We eat and drink, though truly, we are only going through the motions. It brings some of us some small comfort to pretend to be normal, to be among the living again. We do not feel heat or cold, merely the ideas of heat and cold.
 I have no friends, except Steel, the horse I was ordered to steal. The horse that I condemned to the hell I exist in now. My family…I vaguely remember them. A mother, father. But maybe it isn’t a memory; after all, everyone had parents at some point. Perhaps, like the temperature, I merely “remember” an idea of family, of home, of laughter and happiness.
 But then, what does a Death Knight know of happiness? Of love? Of warmth, joy, safety, all of the things that the living take for granted? Even the rudest, lowest living soldier knows or knew of these things.

If someone could give me constructive criticism to Nuuruhuine's story thus far, I would much appreciate it. I haven't written in ages, and some of what I have so far is making me think there is a better way of phrasing things.

I realize there isn't much to work with right now; I literally just started typing. x.x

Really nice. :) There seems to be a lot of pauses in the story though -- because of the commas? Personally, I would omit the comma after "I have no friends" but maybe that's just me. :P