User blog:MockingJester/Stranded

"Come on, Decius, it's what we agreed on!" The reverberation of gold in a tiny bag colliding is broadcast to the ears of all secluded to the dilapidated entrance of an old mine from an even older village "A night inside for the guy with the shortest straw!"

Darkness shrouds the plains surrounded by trees devoid of leaves in the brush of a disaster passed long ago. The sheer number of trees standing against the heavens make the pouring of light complicated in its brightest of days. At night, the moonlight barely filters their surroundings, disallowing sight from beyond a meter or two. More than once did their feet bump into something supposedly sharp, yet dull. Rock-like lumps glued to the soil impede their pace with the danger of falling under a careless sprint.

Three men stand in arms folded, encircling a fourth one edged on the rails of a sunken cart.

"Yep! A night in the mines for the loser! That was the rule!" chuckles another behind a wagging finger sweetly caressing the path of the rail.

"I-I know, guys but..." Decius, the loser of the draw among a group, speaks in shivers, reasonably worried about the perspective of really spending a night alone in a dilapidated mine "I didn't think it was for real!"

"Well, you thought wro~ong" One of the men leans forward "Come on, Decius, it's just a night. Not like we're asking you to live here".

"I know but...but--

"Boys! It seems our friend is bewitched by the rumors of roamers. How about we escort him in?"

"Gladly!" Two voices speak with four hands grabbing his own, slow but stern in their gleeful drag. Decius never was a strong one, much less a fighter, revealed in an easy pull toward the dimly lit road of the rails.

"Now...Decius. Surely you can't tell us that you believe in those rumors, are you?"

"W-well, it was told to be the site of a disaster--floods!" Decius' speech devolves to repetition, as usual of him under a stressful event "Big floods washing people away in death and misery decades ago...a-and monsters! Sights of things roaming nearby--yellow glares in the dark, a-and blue skin--

"Oh, come on, Decius, if that was the case, I think we'd see one by now" The man walking ahead of the group projects confidence, pulling out a dagger from his diminutive scabbard "You should trust us, man. We're soldiers after all. All three of us. There isn't anything foolish enough to try and mug us without a cost!"

"But, but--

"Ay, aye-aye, you worry way too much. You want to be like us, right? Well, you gotta show some grit. I mean, after all, you may have to face those 'monsters' you spout about at one point, isn't that right, boys?"

"Oh, yea! Gotta get accustomed to places like this". One of the holders to his arm nods in agreement.

"We pretty much all went to a place like this at least once. Ask the rest of the boys, they'll tell you the same". The second man dragging him deeper piles on this aura of trust.

"See? Nothing to worry about. You get in, you spend a night in, we give the boys back home a good word for you and maybe..." His sentence lingers unfinished, the group now standing before a door to the main mines.

He pulls out a key from his pocket, inserting it to the rusty lock blocking their way. Well, Decius's way "And in you go!" The door barely opens that Decius is pushed inward to the click of a door closing behind.

The first sight to his trembling, fevering eyes comes in the form of a lack of sight, his surrounding consumed by the darkness. The sunken cart that would once be used as a spare, littered by chunk long lost of its luster.

The moon graces Decius with visibility as well as his adapting eye for low light, giving him a view to another section from which to walk into with a quivering lip over the bag he carried on his back, his only source of comfort to clutch over "Calm down Decius. Calm down. Surely they must be right, they can't be monsters in here...right? Yea...yea...I'll just find a place and..."

Slowly, but surely, the noise of his footsteps brings an echo of life in his pace, filling with a sliver of relief, an assurance filling his earlobes with the repercussion of his boots kicking the tiny pieces of stone on walls and the rail. His adapting eyes see much of the abandoned place, punctured by rays of the night's only light giving credence to the sorry state of the place.

Crevaces littered just about anywhere Decius could lay his eye, sometimes briefly blinded by a more direct fissure lined to him, sometimes giving him a preview of the withering state of the place with rust germinating bits of metal strewn about the cavern.

His pace in the improvised sight to his side leads the fearful man to what could only hope to be a lunch area presented with an upside grill filtering the outside air multiplied by dozens. The humid sting to the rainy air in which he walked to with the others is a welcomed sensation filling his nostrils "At last, some fresh air. Better than the dust accumulated here..."

Another welcomed sight is a relatively sturdy table among its fallen and rotten kin, their wooden feet having long lost the fight against the damp atmosphere. Water and acrid air both in machination to devour the sensible fabrication of the copse composing their bulk, save for the middle one directly under the draft of grill wind.

His approaches unravel the bare extend to his luck, the seemingly intact table just lucking out. Its wood could not afford to boast the luster in which it was long crafted, the brilliant color to its flesh, gone. A stenchy color of black and washed brown assimilates the surface, compounded by the virulent dust that flows upward by the momentum of Decius' bag he throws.

He sighs, pulling a night torch and a pocketbook: his diary "Well, I made it this far. Surely there can't be any monsters here..." --- Day 1... Decius's time in this place...is no pleasant experience. From the lack of true light that even his little torch could barely afford to bring illumination to his derelict table meant a series of double-takes and double look. His frightful gaze, forced to confirm what is laid for his eyes as the corners coated in a sheet of darkness taunt and twist his sense, pretending to shelter a creature of the night.

Every five-second sees the young man rapidly take his eyes off the document to his overall experience as the rattle of abandoned and still breaking tools continuously drew in his ears to predatory noise.

One of them, among the rest, fall in a loud bang, spurning the man off his seat "Huh?! What?! What was that?!" His senses, bewitched as they are, still string strongly enough in the height of instinctual fear empowering him.

The fight takes over the flight in spite of himself "No, Decius! What are you doing?!" Slowly and quietly, he creeps up to the end door to yet another segment deeper in the mines "This is bad! Why am I going?!"

The door is near another rotted table, dusty and inert. A window befalls at the heart of it, giving the terrified man a view of beyond. A darkened and claustrophobic view. Something moaning...something limping...wet sounds bareness flopping on the rocky floor.

His heart reminds him of his horror by the incessant beat of drums threatening to burst out of his rib cages. And yet, he goes still, closely opening the door. A linger of hope beats close to him. Perhaps was it someone else lost in these mines.

A broken hope, his sight lining up with the sculpture of a woman. Her waist, meager like an hourglass. Wet and sloppy smacks produced by her bare feet...foot pacing in a never-ending circle. The other one, broken from within, hidden from outside, revealed through bandages long past their use.

Her attire depicts her as a villager, not from Decius' corners. Motifs were unknown to his eyes, further blurring her belonging by its used and withered state. A ripped side gave way to her second top devoid of sleeves.

None of it wanes her beauty. Be it from the crown of silver hair adorning her head. Be it from the compounding pair of irises dressed in yellow. Possibly even her fair visage, devoid of blemishes. Someone lost, seeking guidance. Decius could be the one to give it.

Only...

"Oh my god...she's...she's..." His words dribble, struggling between beauty...and horror. "...she a ZOMBIE!" His voice acknowledges the blue skin, cold in sight and likely touch. The glazed look the woman gives, uncaring of what lies before her. The limp motion her body tolls in, weakened at the limbs.

His voice, however, cranes her head backward, looking back at him. A second passes, her mental stature processing in a snail crawl. Then, a step. One became two. Two became three. All in his direction, arms clumsily stretched to meet Decius' panicked self rushing out the door "Oh god...oh god...oh god! A zombie! A zombie in the mines?! Why mines?!"

He closes the door forcefully and puts his average body to work with several tables shoved in front. A makeshift lock overstaying their weight and space.

Loud bangs assail the door, creaking and denting. It bucks under the weak, yet forceful punts of the zombie, moaning all the while. Decius wastes no time throwing more tables at it, caring not for the exhaustion creeping on his back.

The banging slows, instead, exchanging fast blows for strong crashes. Reverberations rattle the sunken pulpits with one of two collapsing under their weight with her attempts at the catalyst. Strong as she may be, the time spent alone in these tunnels had weakened the undead woman, carrying precious little strength to bash through the piling tables that remain relatively unfazed by her unending trials.

Trials that would, in time, end. All too weak to muster any more strength, the zombie weakly slaps at the door, still petrifying Decius in place. Moans trying to word sentence echo beyond the now shattered glass panel on the door, giving full access to his ears.

His breathing halts to a crawl, gradually warming up to the very fact that she now was stuck here. Perhaps not before, but, very much now, judging by her grasping hands weakly pressed on the window frames.

He sighs in relief "Haha, she's trapped..."The panic sweeps away, giving way to his tired limbs collapsing him to the floor. It didn't matter, she was not to go anywhere. Not while the tables remained. Although, he would still watch the door, forced to wallow in her chorus of moans...

Day 2...

"Guys! I'm serious! There's a zombie in there!" Once again, Decius was dragged, pulled alongside three other men bearing steel weapons.

"Yea, yea, Decius, zombie. That's why we never met any of them", The one walking ahead of the group sneers in his remark.

"Come on, dude! I think we'd hear a zombie from here if that was the case" speaks a second.

"I'm serious! I trapped it in a storage room full of boxes and tools! Just come and see!" Decius' voice sounded more like whining, feeling their refusal to give heed to his words.

Proven by the first one taking parole "Can't. We have to patrol here again. Come on, man I doubt there'd be one zombie in here of all places. It's probably your hallucinations".

"...well, at least, give me a weapon or something".

"Why? So you can cut yourself while clumsily handling it?" He stops speaking as they reach the entrance of the dilapidated mines "Ok look...bring us something from this 'zombie'...and we'll escort you to this place, alright?"

"Wait, what--

"Ok, cool thanks!" The two holding Decius and his bag hurl him forward. His footing is unstable, almost agitating to the point of injury. His arms clumsily whirl around, pretending to help in balance.

His first thought is to go back to the door, knocking it furiously "Guys!" Serious, guys!" The three had fires and meat to be singed, laughing at jokes they already began uttering, not far from the door, but enough for their ears to act with indifference.

He groans with the coldness of the damp tunnel soon to assail him. He turns and ponders the dread of returning "Oh...why..."

He walks with trepidation, clutching his bag while looking onward. What if it broke out? What if it laid in the darkness, waiting to ambush him? Decius did not want to before zombie fodder.

His worries, some of them, are laid to rest by the sight of the unmoved tables clogging the door. However, only just relieved, the dread of her wail echoed from beyond the door. Was he to dare a peek, he'd see the zombie at the center of the room. His adjusted eyesight in the dark allows him a filter of light from the locked room. The expression of the zombie. Aimless. Drifting...

"Sad...? Huh?" Decius scratches his head, blotted against the door, his head under the broken window panel. His journal scratched with his pen with strange ideas "She's looking sad for some reason. I think I'm just seeing things--eek!"

His second peek had his eyes meet with the zombie's two. A panic that prompted him to drop. Yet, this split-second look had decidedly locked his empathy within him "She can't look sad...can she?"

Usually, this would be the time for the zombie to rattle the door the same way it happened yesterday. it did not. Looking again, she sat, her visage lowered to the floor. He couldn't help but think it again "She...sad...why? Zombies don't feel. That's weird. Maybe..."

He slaps his head in outrage "No, Decius, what are you thinking?! That's a man-eating zombie in here!" He looks back again "...but...what if..."

His bag is touched and grabbed. In it, a piece of sweet in the shape of a cake. A plain vanilla cake. "Well, can't hurt to try. Eh, who knows, maybe it'll bait her so I can get some proof..."

Wrapped in a layer of plastic, Decius drops the cake through the panel, flopping the floor with a slight impact. The plastic prevents any true damage to the pastry, drawing in the zombie's stare. Moans erupt from the room as she crawls to it. Slowly clutching it, her placid stare glazes around the pastry, seemingly unable to make out the thin layer.

Eventually, however, it falls, ripped by her fingernails, split apart as Decius feared would happen to him had she her hands on his frail body. At the same time, a muffled sense of accomplishment touches somewhere in his mind. The moans growl quieter at a result, to nothing more than a satiated whimper.

"She seems to like it..." His mumble is quiet. His hands search still for another piece of cake to drop "Hmm...I was going to have those, but..."

Looking again, the zombie seemed a bit less gloomy, less hungry. He drops it before disappearing under the door. The process repeats, with docile munching echoing from the locked room.

A slight smile appears on his face "I wonder how long she was stuck here...but at least..." His sentence is cut away by a yawn. One of the detriments with this sudden burst of empathy is his reserves emptied "Ughh...probably should have packed more..."

He lugs his bag and his self to the central table where his candle has been lit today and yesterday. A mundane task, if those bringing him here are to repeat the process.

His head fancies the bag a cushion, slowly drifting to the pull of the dark and silence, a blurred sight of a hand reaching out for the broken panel "Huh..."

Time passes, the clear, washed upon his face. His bag left unfelt from his head. However, it seemed benign to exchange this slight discomfort to an entire radiance of gentle softness throughout his front. His back? The neutral balance between his head and front.

"Ohh...I don't remember bringing a sheet to wear---!!!" His eyes are slowly opening to the clarity of the sun. A clear ray of light. A bright lunchroom. A zombie sleeping--A zombie sleeping?!

"Huh, what! How?!" Sleeping on his torso, the zombie he fed, her silver hair washed on his shoulder. A faint smile is adorned on her face, peaceful in simplicity...

The door opened. Not smashed nor broken. The tables pushed aside, leaving her a path to the sleeping man "No, no, no! How did you get here!? How did I not wake from this?!" He moves in dread, looking for his bag.

The zombie is stirred by his sudden panic, very gradually moving her head from his shoulder, looking back with a gaze of blurred gratitude. Her lips move with slagged motion "...thank...--

"Don't eat me! Go away!" The zombie is pushed away and left to simmer on the floor over a panicked Decius looking all over himself. His limbs, his cloth, anything in sight and sensation. Nothing.

He looks at her, quivering. Her arms, cuddling her shoulders in a fetal position. Whimpering. Sobs. Assuming she still had tear ducts "...sorry...sorry...no hurt..."

Her lamenting words wash him over with the realization that...nothing happened. No bite, no trauma, nothing...she just wanted to thank him...and somehow got the strength to shove away the dilapidated tables...

"Ohh...I mean, she must have stepped out with the intent on...oh lord, what am I thinking..." His body moves in accordance to his heart, the latter, wiring his sense of logic out of control. His hands move to meet her shoulders, spurning a weeping gaze back.

Leading her close to him, back to the spot under a light yet to fully embrace the day. An hour or two, at best. Her hands move from herself to plant on his shoulders, bracing for an embrace. His heart beats fast, wary of his action. What if it was but a snare? Zombies can be cunning, from the little he heard.

And yet, letting her garnished hair sleep at his side brought him countless relief. Her stiff body, smoothed and softened, intended on sharing the little comfort she now ushered in with him. Her visage, broken away from the rictus of sorrow "...thank..."

Feeling her so close, his body couldn't stop but think of how unlike zombie she was. Her skin is blue, yet soft to the touch. Her movement is sluggish, yet accurate. Her smell denies the rotting baggage a zombie would bear, instead, bringing whatever smell the woman must have before her death.

His shakiness is soon replaced with a deep sense of solace. She had become docile at his side, doing what she probably has done all this time: sleeping. This time, on warmth.

The time would pass, calling Decius back to the entrance to the mine. Away from her. Her eyes don the most basic of worry "...stay...?"

His hands cup her own "I can't. Not right now. I have fabric to repair and..." His mind moves to the thought of the boys waiting for him. Them and their entertainment watching him squirm.

This thought is distorted by the zombie's hand crept on a brand of hair. Wording her thoughts would take so long. That, she could acknowledge. Instead, she pulls, ripping a small brand out, handing it to Decius' confusion "...come...back...remember?"

She shines the most of a smile she can muster, blocked in place by the rictus of a stiffening body. He takes it, and a final embrace "Of course. I promise. I'll bring things for you. You just stay here, alright?"

"...yes...here..." Weakly, she hugs back, a short one before Decius parts from her. He walks away, often prone to turn back, glancing at her on her knees, waiting patiently for his return. --- "Hey, Decius, back already?" A voice comes from outside of the door, opened in his vision.

"Aw, that doesn't bode well" The leader speaks behind a shaking head "I assume it means you don't have anything about this 'zombie' you keep whining about..."

"Well..." Decius' hand clenches on the braid of hair left for him to remember. His fingers clutter it away in the deep of his palm "...I guess it was just some hallucinations--

"See?! I told you so! You worry too much!" The leader spouts, putting an arm on Decius' shoulder, the four now walking back "See? that's telling me you're not truly wandering the place, but instead, just cowering at the door. I guess it means many more returns to this place you 'love' so much. Who knows? Maybe you'll find something in here..."

"..." Decius groans, hiding the beating relief of a heart yearning to meet her again... --- Day three...

Decius' chorus beat high in the others' ears, prompting them to grin at the prospect of seeing him step in once again. They push him within and close the door.

Decius' pace is a mix of carefulness and overall readiness. Most of it, however, strides at his readiness' side "She felt so hungry last day. Maybe a proper meal will satiate her..."

He stops at the edge of the lunchroom "Ok...I think she may have gone a little too literal with me..." At the very center, where they shared a hug, here she was. Still on her knees, waiting on Decius's return.

Her face brightened up as much as it could, ushering her to stand "...you...back..."

"Hum, yea..." Decius brings back the lock of hair she parted with, now sealed in a tiny plastic film. It didn't matter much to her, prompted to jump at him for an embrace. Well, limp at him for an embrace, mostly.

He remains still, waiting to feel her cool arms shivering around his neck. The trepidation of the first two days had no more purpose. Instead, timidity flourishes in the whole of his mind as he stands embraced by a woman. Somewhat undead, but, a woman still. One with much competition to instill in those from his village, no less, even with the torn cloth still enveloping her.

Time passes, seeing her sitting on the only table stable enough to welcome the weight of two individual. Torn plastic surrounds the plate, now filled with a spicy meal in the stead of sweets. Her eyes grumble on the behalf of her stomach, starved still.

Her teeth ruthlessly tear the meat apart, victim to a starved woman left to drift the mines for years. Decades, perhaps.

Decius watches her rip pieces with her bare hands dripping in sauce. He rises from his seat to her curiosity, slow in the mounting expression "...leave...?"

"No, no, no" His voice trembles in shyness, coming close to place a fork and knife in her hands, also shaking. The brush of their briefly joined fingers sends shivers through him, again, from a woman's touch.

Returned to his seat nearby, Decius picks up his own set, even though his plate is empty, the space of his bag insufficient to pack up any more than what was present.

"Ugh..." His eye glances to his bag, looking to bring it close to him. No point keeping it on the table.

Turning swiftly, Decius takes it and turns back to a...half-eaten steak, still pulsing warmly "Huh? I don't remember--

"...hungr...y?" The zombie blankly stares as him, somehow closer than his ears could whisper to him, close to touch.

"Ohh, no, no. T-this is for you. I mean--" His words lose their footing, frozen by her finger now sharply pointed at herself...

"...hungry..."... to then, ever slowly, move away from her blur torn robe, pointed back at him "...hungry...".

Finally, it pretends to no speed record, leisurely stretching to point at the heated steak still garnished with hot sauce "...hungry...both...eat...together".

Decius was astonished. Picking up the perception of sharing something she could have easily taken for herself was the last thing he expected. His lips quiver in acknowledgment, seeking to confirm what he still perceives as something of his device "You want to...share?"

The undead woman's hair sluggishly moves in what little momentum they catch from her nodding, one per two seconds "...eat...with...me...share..."

"Eheh, alright. Though, I doubt this will be enough for the two of us" Decius temptingly takes his fork and knife, pressing the tri-forked tool against the sturdy meat.

"...sharing...better...warmer..." With those words, the zombie slightly leans to his shoulder, slow to pick her slice of steak. Acting with instincts, his arm reaches for her waist, enabling her for a closer sharing, a closer picking of what remained of the dish.

Ravishing the very last piece prompts his attention to her fingers, grease and swollen in filth, mostly from the dish itself made extra garnished. A little silk paper escapes his pocket by the derision of two fingers clamped on it.

"Hey, please hold your hands out" His voice stretches as a request, spurning the zombie to grant it. Looking at them, he starts wrapping the napkin around the first finger, coating up grease and bits of meat still clinging to her nails. A process repeated once five times. Five times twice.

The rest of the night would spot the two flirting with sleep under the dim moonlight by the grills. Once again, Decius' front is occupied by the undead's resting stare, blank still. Her docile breathing speaks of overwhelming ease of her entrance to dreamland, a percept he remembers being denied in the short time he saw her locked in the singular room.

He was...at peace with her. Even forgetting the advent of the day... --- Day 7

"Come on, Decius, don't grumble like that! It's not our fault your scarf got caught on a branch". The leader of the sneers at the lad holding his ripped piece of cloth, the winds bringing down the temperature somewhat.

"I told you it wasn't a good day to come out, but--

"Yea, yea, relax. It's just a bit windy".

"Yea, you'll be well warm inside, right? Right" Opening the door again, they push him in again "Try to bring us something, all right? Bye!"

It locks again. And again, Decius was far less anxious than he projected, practically hopping towards the center, the only dampening percept being his lashed scarf.

So he holds it to the center of the room, deep in the mines where she awaited "...you...back...again...".

"I told them that today wasn't a good day for their hijinks. I told them the winds were strong and cold. I told them again and they don't...they don't...ohh".

His string of foul thoughts wither to ashes, left awry by the gentle encroaching arms of the undead who limped to his direction amid his complaints, her bare feet drowned out by the echoes of his rattling voice.

Rising his head, his entire visage is reflected twice in the orbs of her irises, shaped in a basic sense of gratitude "...back..."

His renewed sense of shyness rushes to the surface, as predicted by his shaking hands planting to her hips in a return of affection. Though it also makes space for a genuinely glad man.

The hug concluded, the zombie ever slowly recoils her head far enough for a conversation, her hands now laid on the front of his chest, content to rest in this spot "...problems...?"

"Ohh, it's nothing. Don't worry about it".

"...say...problem...help...perhaps..." Her eyes shine with a glimmer of insistence, easily earning his favor through the attention of his scarf removed.

"Well, tonight is a chilly night and whatnot. Men outside thought it would be funny to drag me here across the branches and, well..." Decius stretches the fabric before her, taking a step back to allow her sight. A large torn hole is present in the middle, intruding on a pure blue piece of silk designated to be worn around the neck "...they downplayed its damage and while laughing, like they probably are right now..."

"...ohh...sorry..." The zombie, hands long removed from his chest, had them joined on her chest, her voice breathing a hint of true remorse for him.

"No, no, don't worry, it's not your fault. Speaking of which, I brought more for you". The young man moves to the table, followed as closely by the zombie as possible, her form still limping slow, slow to sit at a seat, expecting.

This time, Decius had brought a more balanced set of dishes, though, shriveled in their quantity. A plate held in a filament of plastic carrying a dressed salad. Another holds nuggets of meat while the third one brought bread with it.

He unravels the plastic and lays them before her "I thought I'd bring something more balanced for you tonight". He hands her a fork and knife as well while assembling the whole into a sandwich, now resting on her plate.

A triumphant smile etches on his face "Hehe, have fun eating". His mind belittles him for that, speaking of his hunger. A sentiment shared to a lesser degree by the zombie, who, in his shock, had by since sliced the wich in half.

A sight he bore witness to via her attractive tug of his sleeve "...share...too...eat...together...again..."

"Ohh?" Looking at his 'guest', Decius could see her lips move in a demi-circle, depicting an honest attempt at a smile. Her muscles disallowed such maneuvers, however. Not for her lack of trying.

"...share...share...again..." Her fingers keep tugging at his sleeve with a surprising strength behind them, more than before. This part flees from his mind, all too busy shaping a more heartfelt smile at her anchored concept of splitting.

"Why not? I haven't eaten much today anyway". He plants his rump besides her, taking his slice sandwich. They eat as they did their last meeting. Huddled together, initiated by the undead woman seeking a more comfortable spot close to him.

The dim lights of the room seemed a bit more peachy to Decius, the place further scraping any dread hiding to the corner of his mind. It was almost as this place now began welcoming him in its bowels, like the scarf laying on the table.

Time passes as ever, seeing to the man's departure. The monotony of his leaving, gifted with the zombie's sluggish wave of a hand "...come...back...soon..."

"Of course!...of course" A promise to himself in spite of playing still in the other's hands, the same laughing at his quivering shape advancing from the bowels of the mines under rising dawn.

"Well, jeez, Decius, I didn't think you'd throw your scarf so easily. Why give us such a temper tantrum then?" The leader sneers while the two others are just about done taking their last gulp of alcohol, to then discard the empty bottles of glass on the gravel floor.

"My--my scarf?! Oh no! I forgot my--

"Yea, yea, come on! You'll get it another time, it's getting cold for us". His hand claps on Decius' wrist, now walking back to the town in spite of Decius' complaints. --- Day 8

Decius' return is one of his own. The boys so often dragging him to their pleasure of seeing a boy white in fear remained back, unknowing and uncaring of his stealth depart.

"To think I forgot my scarf yesterday..." he mumbles, his steps having grown experience at the litter of things scattered on his path to the ancient dining room. Fast and bold, they seamlessly dodge anything that would impede or have him bump on them.

"...or, did she take it?" Taking arrival to the center, Decius is startled by the zombie's disposition. Her eyes, while blank in their unchanged state, seemed more focused, meticulous as her fingers are. The moonlight shines deeply on said fingers, the latter, holding what looks like a piece of metal.

The table is beset by bigger and more used pieces of metal, ground to dust. Looking back to the one in her fingers, it became obvious to him how used they were to make a rudimentary polish and sharpening of her makeshift needle, used to weave his scarf together once more.

"Woah...how, when...how did you--" His voice reaches her ears, prompting her to stop, her visage turning to meet his astonished eyes. His scarf no longer bore the hole on its silky fabric. The color is a close shade to its torn part, barely paler. Was he not so confused at the deliberate attempt at making it whole again, Decius could have briefly glanced down, where parts of her robe had a significant tear to its already washed-up state.

"...hole...no...more...repaired..." Her sluggish movement contests the humid soil as the wet plant of her feet continuously tolls to bring her near the confounded man, raising the repaired scarf to his eyes.

The fabric had what looked like renewal to its overall shape. The knitted part expected to stand out, but it only barely did, a marriage of colors and meticulous work making it well at home with the rest of the scarf. As well as that, touching it would give him a slightly cool sensation, among the ruins of the mine.

Decius glances back at her, a profound feeling of gratitude clouding his mind, strongly enough to him to only now notice the faint smile weaved on her pale lips adjacent to the movement of the scarf "...effort...fix...like?"

He feels the cool touch of the newly repaired scarf roll on the back of his neck while simultaneously rushed by the warmth her cold fingers could muster through the radiance of the assembled silk. His eyes close, looking to voice his appreciation "Yes, I do. Thank you--!!"

Blind in the immediate moment, Decius felt the alien brush of softness on him. On his lips, to be precise. An act fully to call for his attention by the motionless stillness of the scarf she was weaving around him.

He opens his eyes in a flash of surprise, mistified to see the first faint of crimson of the zombie's cheeks, overly close to him. Anything else became blurred and blotted in sight by her, further prompting the man to spend the next second or two of stunned shock to the details of his vision.

Cheeks mustering manifestation of dull heat rushing on one devoid of physical warmth. Eyes shaped to an exchange of dullness for a more polished gaze.

Elsewhere, cradled hands since long moved to his chest, laying awkwardly, tasked with strengthening her current stance.

However, within those two seconds, the majority of his mind warped on the brush. The very surface felt reasonably humid with hints of how dry it should have been. A hidden flavor tempted him from deeper, preciously attempting to convey itself through her lips.

Her lips...

At last, Decius had realized it. The zombie, embroiled by his candid appreciation of her effort as well as feeling extinct instincts returning by margin amounts, snuffed out his sentence with a delicate press of her pale lips upon his.

An act that even one without the knowledge of intimacy felt it for what it truly was. His stature back away in the sudden gesture of the woman, now buckled in surprise.

"Hey...what was..." His breath falls in disarray, quietly battling for composure. Surprise as it came, he couldn't deny the rapture this minuscule kiss left on him. A bigger surprise moved from its hiding spot by the woman, expressing a brittle and yet, more desirable smile. One to rival a living lady placing eyes on a lover.

"...hungry...need...more..." she whispers, this time, coiling her arms around his neck in a hungry embrace, this time, breaking any attempt at a quick backstep. Her lips once more fall upon his, sharing a deeper grab.

"!!" Decius' eyes widen, feeling the unshakable strength of her arms keeping the two in place, almost robbed from him. Just enough to dispel any immediate attempt at moving away, with a hint of dying light barely present in the immediate space.

Slowly, however, they close, enraptured in the taste of everything she ate since the last days, all converted into a sweet fragrance. His hands tether on her hips in spite of himself, well-given to the kiss.

Time flows rapidly around them, blurred out by their perception, slow to catch up, slower to re-instate itself to their minds, shackling his back to the feeling of dusty wood affiliated on his back.

Catching up to the rest of his, Decius' mind now realized he was sitting at the table, with her on his lap, looking back with an invigorated gaze of affection, again, persistent by the rest of her hands planted on his torso.

Her entire facial feature untwisted a bit more of her rigidity, allowing her to portrait a stronger smile, contesting the blank stare of her eyes "..."

It spoke the entirety of her thoughts, mired in love in the short span of days passed between the two. Decius' heartbeat with a once unknown passion, in the rows of a woman taken by him.

"Hey, what was that...hum?" His heart speaks of confused emotions, the most brilliant among them, a nascent love, knowing the very feeling to be another's. The increased sentience in which she began speaking and moving about displaced the notion of her zombie status far from him. However, he couldn't properly address her, knowing no name to call her.

Her eyes, still entangled in the afterglow of a kiss, had a benign confusion showered on her interest. His stare strifes left and right, up and down, looking for any semblance of a name, not seeing a finger pressing on her lip, stirring the ancient memories sleeping in her.

A brief brightening shines in her gaze, prompting her hand to tap on his torso, gaining his attention with but a word "Florence..."

"Florence...is that your name?" His voice falls as a whispering correspondence to hers.

"...Florence..." She briefly places a hand on her chest "...Florence".

"Florence..."He lets her name sink in his mind, burning its every letter aside her delicate visage "Well, I brought some---ohh". His sentence, cut again by the press of her lips. A short kiss, designated to feed her satiation.

"...hungry...no more...filled..." Her smile falters to a sleepy gaze, leaving Decius to ponder the sequence of actions by himself. The very first thoughts flew to that of delusions, mirages spawned by his delirious mind aboard a damp cave in the bowels of mines. The road deeper now laid broken, open for him to walk...and perhaps, something to seep out. Gas, maybe.

These thoughts of hallucination broke to pieces, contested by the brushing hair of the undead cozily sleeping on his shoulder, her arms laid on each side of his torso as a pillow. Each second passed assailed his exterior sensation with her moving hand, subtly, gently, but moving none the less.

If not that, then what? He couldn't bear to answer, again, pulled to the tug of the dream as the night reached its apex. The strength to even keep his awareness dissipated, robbed by this sudden exchange of warmth. An a-the-time strenuous sequence of actions for Decius who no longer had to bear the stigma of romantic ignorance...even if he didn't exactly felt compelled to shout it out the streets. --- Day 12

Decius' walk is that of his own, again, by the indifference of the men who would have dragged him to this place none the less. He remembers their obnoxious loudness, breaking, and punching whatever comes their way, blurred visions by the overindulgence of alcohol.

The stench of beer follows closely, clinging to his clothes. Yet, they impart little on his person with each step approaching the mines.

Within, he moves further ahead, his bag filled with sweets. A bounty he anticipates to hand over to Florence, the undead. Passing through the second door to the cantine, Decius is spotted by the woman in white hair, stranded once again at the middle of the room. Her hands joined to the heart of her chest, she slowly stands, spreading them wide in his direction "...you back...welcome...back..."

Her limp pace is replaced by a sluggish walk, a significant improvement over the former, ushering the young man in pondering of such accelerated recovery.

It blurs away by the discard of her arms clumsily clinging to his neck in an instinctual hug, prompting returned by his hands attached to her hips "Yea, I'm back".

A faint smile writes on her face, impatient to see what he has brought "...food?...eating today?..." Her blank eyes bath in the attempt of demonstrating enthusiasm as he pulls his bounty out of his bag. Treats in the dozen, waiting to be consumed, all catching her eyes.

Decius crosses his arms, proud to have made an impression on Florence "I brought more sweet-oriented dishes. I thought you could use the delicacy we do back here".

"...many sweet things..."

"Yep. They're all yours" he uncrosses his arms, displaying it all to be at her mercy. As expected, Florence takes one of the many dishes on the table, all wrapped in plastic, and presents it to Decius, a faint smile on her face "...eat together...share with me..."

Even in the pretension of anticipation, his heart skips a beat over the sheer gratitude of being offered a part in the consumption "If you don't mind, then yes, I'll gladly eat these with you".

Her cheeks briefly stretch, trying once more shine a bigger smile fails. Never the less, she looks at the treasury of desserts, waiting on Decius' act.

Her yellow irises watch with slight glee, almost drooling at the prospect of gnawing on the current toll of chocolate laid before her. He does so while glancing at her anticipation.

No more than a second passes before the undead lady attacks the dish, garnishing herself full of chocolate with a slight sigh of satisfaction flowing from her lips.

Soon enough, in spite of her sluggish expertise with utensils, the woman carves a piece to which she hands to Decius, eyes trying to convey the desire to see him eat alongside her, as she promised minutes ago.

He did and opened an arm in her way. A tempting glare in his stare invited her to his embrace, unsure of how she'd interpret it. His response came in the form of her slow walk moving from her chair merely to sit at his lap, her arms branded at her next victims.

Her cuts, replaced by his rapid slices, welcome the pastry to her gullet, a perfect fit. Then, he'd take a piece for himself, furiously embroiled in her entire being. So much that when the time came to eat his part, he had misaimed his fork full of jelly, imparting a bit on his cheek.

A careless act Florence didn't miss "...cheek smudged...I remove..."

"Ohh, that? Don't worry, I have a--hey, hey! You don't need to--" His words fall on deaf ears as the zombie spins with surprising dexterity to meet his face, her tongue spilled out in the process. A vestige of saliva coats it and the cheek of the man as it slides across several times, making sure not to miss a spot.

She does so slow and gentle, almost savoring this benign time, a stare gradually morphing to the same hunger that pushed her lips against his. Again, the surprise was his, the history of yesterday repeated. Her kiss is as hungry as it was the first time. Save flavor. Same texture. All of it, sprinkled with an extra something.

Something Decius couldn't quite spend the time to think about it, his mind and body yielding with a kiss of his own, unable to resist to the ravenous, yet, considerate streaming exchange of breath and tongues. At the same time, this mere lack of resistance was more than just the feeling of his strength evaporating and shun glimmer dying ad quickly as it was born far from sight.

His hands cradle her back as hers, his shoulders, keeping each other stationed close, Florence, more than Decius. The entire notion of this sweeping darkness to the outside is erased from his mind, embroiled in the arms of a creature washed up by means not known to him. --- Day 20 The past days had brought repetition to his mind. Like a daily shift, he went by, either pushed in by the trio or by himself to wander the mines. Quickly, his pace to the cantine would then be halted by the coiling and shivering cobalt arms of an all-too-familiar zombie speaking to the best of her abilities.

He'd bring whatever his bag had the strength to bear for the two to share to a seamless transfer to each other's arms, exchanging a simple, but persistent kiss. One of hunger for the undead, Florence, constantly sneaking in a little extra in her lips' convey of affection, as the sole initiator to this simple closeness.

Today, as Decius walked past the door in a path burned in his memory and hugged tightly by his 'host', he could feel her disposition. A deviation of their usual night spent together, her blank eyes turned to the deeper path of the mines.

"...here...come....with me...let me...show you..." Her voice speaks in a request to his surprise.

"You want to bring me somewhere?"

Her head nods, taking his hand in softly. It breathes the emotion of a partner directly to his being, speaking with no words to misconstruct, fanned by her voice "...my turn...to guide you...return...my gratitude..."

"But, hold on, I was sure you'd be hungry since I didn't pass by yesterday, so I packed an extra".

At his worry double toned in remorse, Florence turns from the spot where she first saw him, locked by the withered group of tables. Her lips creep near his ear, a heated whisper sure to send shivers to his lobe at the implicit implication "...no longer hungry...your warmth...is enough..."

"Ohh..." His cheeks simmer in red, the days spent in her company giving ample time to work out the hidden layer of her words. The delicacy of his dishes progressively pushed out to her lascivious mouth seeking a male's counterpart to drown in.

Watching her send him a glancing smile, greater than before, cemented this idea, many times of dubious sounding. Somehow, the food could no longer hold a candle to his mere presence, and attention.

Decius not only can feel it but see it as well. Her overall appearance and phonetic vocabulary had also improved enough for her to look different despite her unchanged look.

With all of that, however, she still had ways to go, her zombie status clinging fiercely to her being. As demonstrated by her walk, still afflicted by her sluggish walk doing deeper.

"Well, ok then..." Decius takes a few steps toward her and plunges his arms to her legs, initiating a princess carriage "...show me. And hum...I'll walk you while you guide me".

Surprise comes and goes, replaced by a docile smile, wholly given to his act. One of her arms anchors to his shoulder. The other, pointing to the place where he had locked her "...here...we go down..."

"Down? So, it's a downward terrain..."

"...yes...downward...careful...path down slippery...walk slowly..."

"Ohh, ok then, hold on..." Saying this prompts her to join her resting arm, clinging to him as strongly as possible. True enough,  pushing the door with a shattered window, Decius' pace is greatly impacted by the slope, normally not an issue. Wet surfaces sought to fix that with the aid of rain pounding down on the mines for the last two days.

With that said, the slope is graduate. Feeling the muscles on his arms burn with every second, Decius slowly acclimates to his 'host' and her weight, his stare lined forward. Further darkness awaits the two with no more worry in his heart.

Instead, light brushes the surface of the path he walks upon. The rail and equipment begin to become rare and rarer on the tracks, leaving him to wonder whether those before had stopped here. "...here...light caves...transparent water...beautiful gems..." Florence's whisper previews his sight to an illuminated cave. A cave is as large as two inns and high as five. The majority of the ground level is filled with hollow basins of water. Rainwater, coloring, and dancing among the rocky walls and roof in an emerald tint.

"Woah..." Decius' eyes are submerged with the immense beauty of the caverns. The water pours with purity, drinkable, even. The walls shine with small glimmer, waiting to be admired. This amazement is more than enough to make him forget the acidic liquid swelling in his arms.

The patron to this cause looks back at him, her expression filling up in joy. To see him so enchanted..."...hold still...wait..." Her legs balance out of his grasp, landing on the uneven surface.

"Huh?" The impromptu loss of his 'host' pulls him out of his trance. Curiosity follows him as he follows her nearing a wall "What are you doing?"

"...here...take it..." Her pale hands take hold of one of the glimmers on the wall. A gem embedded. Back then, the thought of her doing anything more than pushing rotten tables would be the utmost her strength allowed.

So, to see her tear the gem in its whole without so much as an effort "Huh, I see the food brought your prowess back". Before then, the gem is laid on his hands, courtesy of Florence enveloping one of them over it.

"...A gift...for you...and hopes that...you return..." She smiles, her hand now resting on his finger.

He wrestles the gem on his pocket, yearning to guide her to his side, joining his fingers to the back of her waist. Her docile behavior ignites, waiting on the obvious, re-assured by his vocal recognition "Of course. As many times as you wish..."

Her eyes close while her lips open, awaiting a kiss that fills her cheeks with the familiar aroma of heat. Their night is spent joined, sitting by the water, dipping their feet on its surface, playfully teasing the other before her eyes once more closed, seeking the cloud to her dream... --- Day 25 "Good thing you brought that shining stone, eh, Decius? Otherwise, we'd be thinking you've done nothing more than mope at the door like you usually do". A voice strikes in the depth of the night. Three dancing ambers on resin and wood defy the status quo of shadows, equally bearing three torch-holders walking to the entrance, with one at their center devoid of his property.

"Yes, no thanks to you". Decius speaks back, grumbling at the apparent theft of his gift. The man behind him passes it to the air like one would do a balloon.

"Oh come on, man! What do you mean, 'no thanks to us'? We're the ones who brought you here, didn't we?"

"For your entertainment. Like today. You could go yourselves to go get two more for your goons over here, but, we both know better, don't we?"

They snicker at the prospect of entering the place themselves "You know us so well, Decius. It's a strategic decision. I mean, you know the place in and out, we don't. So, we have to ask you to go in yourself and see if you can get us, hmm... at least ten more. If you do, I'll give you back yours..."

"Ohh, so we're holding our theft now...whatever..." Decius's brooding stare turns to the door, quick to walk as to distance himself from the men already setting their camp at the door. His pace is echoed by the tone of their voices "Yea...why go in this dilapidated excuse of a mining center when we got a mule to do it himself?"

"Right? I seriously didn't think he'd just continue to wander in looking for shiny crap for us to sell. He is a loyal mule, isn't he?"

"That he is, boys. Easy coins for us".

He stops, looking back at the dim-lighted window of the door where their bonfire burns bright. His face twists to a large grin, the trust in their complacency and attempt to force him through humiliation paying in high strides. The chance of them wandering within the abandoned place while he was nearby, close to none.

"They didn't believe me when I told them a woman was here...why refute it now?" he whispers, casually walking with an innate knowledge of the place. Walking to the cantine, he welcomes Florence's walk embrace, improved to that of a slow, yet enriched pace, constantly polishing itself "...You back...you're back...ohh?...where is..."

"I'm sorry..." Returning the accolade, Decius intrinsically knew she spoke of the gem offered to him, its absence "My tormentors outside the cave took it and asked for more just to get it back..."

"...Ohh, no problem...I'll help..." Her face closes near his, showering him with an increasingly lovestruck stare. Eyes decreasingly blank, returned with the grace of shine into them. Skin tone diluting the blue hue of dead pigmentation to a paler contrast. Her cheeks grant her lips with a more intricate smile, one closely depicting a woman in love, further displaced from the rigor mortis afflicting her in his first days forced down the mines.

Her arms cling to his back, yearning to be carried. "Don't mind if I do..." His hands sweep her from the ground, more easily making the way down to the underground cavern where it all laid.

Picking them was comparatively easier than yesterday, in spite of their increased number. His brown eyes catch the shine of her reach close to the glimmer fixated on the wall, to then pick them off with little effort. Her body remains without tension, looking like it draws no strength.

Instead, they catch an extra shine alike the gem she plucks from its rocky bed, piling it with the rest. "Woah..." His only words, constantly mesmerized by the increasing ease of her movement, so close to mimicking that of a living woman.

The warmth she shares with him as she passes nearby, with his hand on hers, continues to expand these thoughts, all the way to the lake, feeling their feet plunge under.

Another thought scratching to the back of his mind is this place. To think she would know of a beautiful underground, perhaps abandoned by those who lived here before. Yet, he wondered about it.

"Hey" Decius slightly moves his hand amid their idle water splashing feet, still held in hers.

"...Hmm?...Question?..."

"Yea. Hum...did you know of this place before? You seemed to have to intricate knowledge of it, yet you remained upward".

"...Ohh?..." The zombie fondles her chin with her free hand, unwilling to use the one joined in Decius' "...Memories came back recently...didn't know before..."

"Huh, guess good food can juggle memories, huh?" He looks to the reflection of the river, the ripples within them. They continuously distort the images of Florence gazing at it as well, to the point where he could think she was shaking away in a negatory manner.

It almost looked as if her face now twisted to a frown laced in a mourning manner. The thought of it being merely the ripples in the water is discarded as she slightly moves her hand clinging to him, just enough to garner his attention "...Hey..."

"Yes--" Looking at the undead, Decius can already feel a darkened mood seeping from her refusal to make eye contact, locked on the water instead "--hey, what's wrong?"

His hand moves by itself, acting under his empathic instinct, once pulled from his subconscious the first time she sought to cuddle with him. It gently slides beneath her pale chin, lined with the rest of her face, and pivots it to his side "What's wrong?"

"...I...I...remember..." She softly speaks, dulled by an increasingly sorrowful voice "...I remember...why...I'm here...How I...got here..."

"Ohh, well..." Decius' abundance of time spent in the desolate mines with her and no other tingles his instincts. The hair on his arms rises. His spine chills despite the lukewarm environment.

"You sure you want to count it? It sounds painful..." His fingers move from her chin, leaving her neck to shift back to the stare with water.

"...Yes..." The cool warmth of her undead palm is felt no more by his hand, joining its twin at the foreground of her thighs "...Yes...I do...I want to ...share it...Even though..."

The tone washed in gray with Decius plunged to a darker recess. And still, she rattles, shaking in apprehension, tormented by the memories pulling outward. It lulls down ever slightly by the touch of Decius' entire arm quietly placed at her shoulder. Empathy requested an ear. He quietly acquiesced.

"...I remember...home...sky...and village..." A sigh slips through her lips, leading this string of words, causing her to halt for but a moment.

Another sigh passes before she resumes "...Mother...and father...and brother...Working on fixing little brother...His pants caught a branch..."

Decius speaks no word, his stare, the only voice to his potential regret. Maybe he should have let his brand of curiosity drift back to the confines of his mind. Right now, he felt like he may have opened an old wound. Or...

"...Patched up...his pants...His smile...shined by the sky...But then...The shine stopped...Blocked by sky..." Years past had impoverished her memory, but Decius could piece it. Playing in his mind like a theater with Florence at the foreground casually knitting away at her sibling's torn pants, a benign smile on her face.

And the dark that brooded at the sky, preceded by the gray clouds atop, strung in her voice "...Rain started falling...Tiny...then moderate...then large...Rain...rivers...floods..."

It was unfortunate that Decius knew of what had brought her here. After all, this place was indeed known for chilly weather. Wind, rain, mist, snow, a place of water. He knew how common floods were, only recently culled by the tree-like array of violet tide rooting and pelting the earth and sky of everywhere.

An event widely witnessed, stowing away catastrophes such as flash floods of decades past, an era Florence likely was born and lived before...

He quiets his thoughts, looking to be nothing more than a support shoulder to the increasingly distressed zombie "...Father...was the first...to go...Then...mother, holding little brother...Both...swept by the tide..."

His sense of empathy experiences a second-hand sensation of dread, nothing compared to her idle heart rattling, unable to stop herself. Her voice shrinks to a tearful pitch "...My little brother...fled from my arms...towed away by boaters...I did not...the current...swept me...splashed across the land...Thrown to the depth of this place...beret of air...broken by its liquid maw...left to die...here..."

Her face lowers, her pale hair slumbering downward, periodically inching up only by the breath of her whisper, utterly sullen "...Alone...cold...broken...For years...Even in the change...my memories eroded...unable to remember anything but...hunger..."

Decius sees her hands clenching to fists "...Asking myself...why...why was I cast again in this world...far from all...hidden and left...to forget...in this place...by myself..." Her hands cling to her shoulders, shaking in a manner, not unlike one deprived of warmth "...It's cold...so cold..."

Her mind overtaken by the memories, she freezes in place, rattling in the pulsing state of her time spent here in years, decades even.

Her shoulders are wrapped by Decius' arms, shivering in junction to her, making it look as if he was shivering. He didn't say a thing. No quip, no attempt as vocal comfort, no suggestion. Nothing but silence in the embrace of his arms, gently breathing his bodily heat.

It seemed to calm her down, reducing her rattling to quiet sobs. Her tears, pure in their transparency, reflect the gem-encrusted walls as they drop on the rocky surface, akin to the water now made still from their departed feet. An act initiated by Decius looking to have her sit on his thighs. The pale hands that once held he still cling to hr shoulder, unlikely to move in the immediate future.

His hair leans on her head, posing as a vigil for the remainder of the night spent in the regressive sobbing of a woman to terms with ashen memories of her collapsed family.

The morning, sprawled from the top of the caverns by a sunray, beams down on the two, the undead, sleeping with a heavy heart, the art of crying for the first time in decades, taxing in her meager body just on the cusp of recovery.

He lays her on his coat, a second layer he wore to fend off the winds of yesterday's night, a promise to return with a more...appropriate cover-up. His feet depart from the cavern, leaving her wrapped around his layer of cloth, sleeping in a sorrowful cloak. --- "Damn, Decius! The leader speaks, an arm over Decius' shoulder, eyes mesmerized by the ten gems laid in the man's bag. He casually shoves the first and smaller gem in the man's pocket as one of his men removes his bag.

"Yea, whatever, I'm going" He didn't care much about his bag so easily discarded. Instead, he moves about, distancing the trio playing around in his bounty. They care little either, their 'mule' having borne fruits. Decius was no more in their minds for the coming time, already consumed in the thoughts of spending this rarity. --- Day 30

Again and again, Decius came to her, still wrapped in his coat. Trying to replace it with a much more complete sheet was met with failure. It was mundane, as his scarf is, more thoroughly brought and bore with the lack of his coat, but, could afford a greater purchase of warmth.

A prospect not of worth in Florence's increasingly recovered state, comping with the scar of memory. Seeing him come close was akin to a lifebuoy, prompting her to slowly once more to sit at his lap, left to drift amidst her mind. Occasional tears falter from her eyes, greatly decreased with the coming days.

This day was no different, yet, utterly distinct. Sitting by the border of the cavern's hefty rainwater, Decius held the undead in his arms, still clinging to his jacket. The long passing of relatives was an uncharted island to him, too trepidatious to travel. The silence was his comfort. His presence, a greater one.

Eventually, Florence lifts her face to meet him, sitting so fondly on his thighs. Eyes filled with recognition and gratitude. A longing joy...

"...Thank you..." ...and hunger. Slowly, her arms begin moving the strap of leather tethered to her body for the last days.

"Ohh, no problem--" His sentence is snuffed out by the contact of her lips, profusely embraced on his pair. A kiss to repay his enduring compassion...no longer enough for her.

"...I'm hungry...~ trailing from his face, she whispers, a tongue densely dipped in a yet more unfamiliar tone to Decius who turns to his bag, almost able to ignore her arms coiled around his neck. It passes as nothing more than oddity to his ears.

"Ohh, alright. I thought you would, considering you haven't eaten the last five days. Hold on, let me just--hey, hey, I haven't opened the bag yet! I know you're hungry but--

"No...~ Her voice creeps close to his ear, fully laced in sensuality. Having found the resolve to cope with the depth of her old memories, aided by the increasing love she learned to project to the man who continuously visited her in her ruined state, had finally given way to her monstrous instincts.

Not only burning in sensual tone, but her voice also leaped across speeches "I'm hungry~. Her hand moves behind his back, dislodging his bag from his person, allowing her to take to his chest, pushing it for his back to meet the gravel floor.

Surprise afflicts Decius "Hey, no! All the food's in the bag! You're--you're seriously not thinking of eating me?!"

Voices were no longer hers to wield, overwhelmed by a slow-catching instinct recognizing the man under her as her true love. Her mate. Her leap to a more human-like speech had consumed the last strand of energy, regressing her to a speechless zombie.

But one who still bore the fond memories of the two's time together. Love and lust. Desire and devotion, all showered onto him by a faint and clumsy smile. She was not going to eat him. Not in the literal sense.

"Wait...that look..." Decius, as said before, scarcely had experience with women, often left for the brawny type. The reason why some may come to torment him for their entertainment. It was a shocking surprise for him to acknowledge the 'hungry' stare Florence projected him "...you're not serious..."

She was. Her hands delicately unfasten his belt despite, leaving it to fall with a clank to the floor. Then his pants open to the limit of his zipper, revealing typical brown underwear.

"You're seriously not...I mean, I'm no..." His words lose their track, displaced by Florence's slow nodding directly at him. Her state would not burn off her explicit intent as a mere stroke of hunger. The way her hands lovingly placed on his chest following the disrobing of his underwear spoke as such.

"I mean--Woah..." His cheeks burn with intense heat. He is the sole witness to a zombie slowly and deliberately disrobing. The large robe in dull azure colors moves aside, leaving her body open for him to see in its splendid, if, bandaged, glory. Her bosom turned out to be larger than he expected, held tightly by the attire clinging to her. It bears no bandage compared to her belly, wrapped in old pieces of cloth for wounds that no longer existed.

Looking down, he saw another piece of used bandage tethered on one of her legs. The limping one, formerly, wrapped by its thigh and ankle. Her other leg bore more at the knee's size. But none could disgrace the immense beauty that laid behind a pale skin-color, waiting to be removed...

...as she does. One by one. Watching Decius' increasing reaction of fluster and blush. Her movement is clumsy, her inexperience with a man doubled by the sluggish nature of a stiff-limbed undead. It mattered little, however, to Decius, enthralled by what he sees.

The biggest surprise to come to him, however, was in his lingering gaze to her womanhood. Bare. Naked. Open for all to see, already lacking in any underwear. Either lost in her forced arrival to the depths of the mines or discarded somewhere during his visits, there was nothing to hinder it, once, utterly concealed by her tightly coiling robe.

The future would come to speak to him of demonic energy affecting men. This moment needed none, judging by their disposition. The shock fully passed through Decius, allowing a better grip on the situation.

"Are you sure about this?" He speaks, his pants dangled down his knees, showing his male 'tool', hardened and waiting "I mean, you're probably just hungry. I don't want you to make a decision you might regret--I mean, this is very inviting, don't get me wrong, but, your state--" Again, his words are spat out by a kiss. One of hunger and affection.

Wetness drips on his 'private' member. Florence's, to be exact. Her eyes, so close to him, shoot him an assured look. Beyond her clumsy movement, and slightly dulled mind, he knew. He knew she still was fully here. She. Wanted. It. With him.

His hands clip on her bare hips in uncertain manners, already giving room to the enriched softness of her seemingly dead skin. There was no turning back, her hips lowering on his 'shaft'... --- The morning had come, gentler than usual as a small ray of light came bouncing and illuminating the hollow grounds of the long untouched river of gems. It hums in a light green pulse, further exacerbating the blue hue of the rainwater that rests in its deep holes.

Decius was found laying on his large sheet, the covers twisted and perturbed. Parts of it overlap on him, intercepted by the sleeping zombie. Her breath is heavily panting, dense enough to be visibly flowing in a murky white from her exhausted lips as they rattled by the never-ending moans of her voice.

She lays on him, embroiled in a sleepy, yet passionate hug over the man as her body pillow. His arms correspond in the same manner, joined at the back of her hips, clearly comfortable being here.

It was her very first time to share the sheets with a man, to experience his devotion. The result of a joined night, sleepless in the row of their physical loving, spills endlessly on the sheets, staining it never-the-less between legs that could muster no strength to prevent its spillage.

Florence was yet exhausted, while invigorated like never before. Her face still blushes intensely, burning brightly against her undead status, compounded by said breathing, ever catching her composure, blissfully unashamed of her honestly to her exhausted state.

A sentiment shared with Decius, taken to wake the first. "A...amazing...that was..." Words could not hope to describe his experience. Her body was akin to a stream of winds gently peeling on his skin with the touch of clouds. A cool and warm sensation. Feeling her lay on his body with the yearning for closure further exacerbated this docile sensuality...

...none of it even comparable to her intimate member, unspoiled, untouched, quivering in his presence. Aching to be made his. The overwhelming majority of the night watched on as he became breathless every time they joined in the sheets, levitating the bar higher in defiance of his mind thinking he'd had reached the climax of pleasurable sensation her pale body could provide. A height human women could only hope to bring before, now available in mass quantity to him.

Repeated, as he looked to Florence's sleepy expression, her mouth gasping in dull manners for air. A caress to her cheek prompted him with a waking kiss, sealing her lips with his.

This manner of awakening is slowly brought to the surface as her eyes wake, to then wince in renewed joy, demonstrated by her arms reaching around his neck for a more faithful exchange of affection.

"Good morning, caretaker...~ she whispers, a tone of passion, flavors to his ears.

"Good morning to you too". Her words had once again gained in clarity, now mixing with her defiant cords to speak in this tone. He was once more bewildered by how lively she currently looks.

But, he pushes them away, the afterglow still entangling his percepts with her, a question in mind "So...about yesterday..."

Unbeknownst to him, Florence had learned to his mannerism over time. Right now, the strings that agitated his inquiry moved non-stop. She flashes him a smile "That? Well...being in this abyss of recollection was like the fog of memory I was afflicted by...Cold and lonely...hungry and bitter...Far from home...Far from everything..."

"Yea..." Decius closes his eyes, bathed in the misery of feelings wrought by this darkness of past remembrances. Florence sees it, feels him trying to emphasize with her. To which she approaches, drenched in gratitude "Then you came. For the former as well as the latter. An arm to rest, far from the cold...A light to draw me from the fog...In but days, I've tasted so much and enjoyed the company you brought me...And you brought it back...Once more...~

"Anyone would do the same, assuming they don't spurn in immediate fear at a zombie using them as a pillow" Decius stifle a chortle, reminded of their second interaction of him making a hostile attempt.

Florence places a hand in front of her lips, honestly embarrassed of that as well "Well, I didn't exactly bother saying much, did I...All I wanted to do is thank you, but then, you looked so warm, and--"

"Don't worry about it. I know. I'd take the first guy wandering the place as a farce if I had to rest in stone and rusted metal".

"Hmm...Well, no, not all men. Those who forced you here don't seem like the most welcoming...A thought for another time..."

"They aren't but, well, it helped us meet..." Decius whispers those words, realizing how clumsy it sounds for a confession. One none the taken by Florence hugging him tightly.

"Yes, we did...Your everything led me to gift you back...With the only thing I had in my possession..."

"The gems?" Decius' eyes map over the place, slowly led back to her attention.

"Hmm, good guess, but not really...That was a bonus I didn't know I had...It was me...Well, you already had my heart, it was bound to follow... Especially with the shivers of your essence on my lips...Enriched with affection to my person..."

"My...essence?"

"The thing that could tell you from anyone else..." Florence just barely moves her visage from Decius' immediate range, locked in pondering "How do I explain this...? Hmm, think of it as colors...Your is one in a million, a beautiful emerald color, my favorite...Unlike the three fools that stand outside the entrance to my humble seclusion...Your tormentors, I think...In three shades of blue...Dark blue..."

"Wait...how are you--when did you--

"Ohh..?! Since we joined..! My heart was so overjoyed at the prospect, I nearly ignored the ripe aura coating you...I wanted to comment on it but every time, I was cut off by your..." Her eyes flee from his, looking sideways in slight timidity. A second or two passed before his head had hit the pitch of a proverbial bell.

His face joins her in a contagion of heat in their cheeks "Ohh...that much?"

"Hehe, pretty much...But..." Her face ogles close again "I'd love to meet you like that again...~

His heart skips a beat. Never did he think a woman would 'devour' him in a most loving manner. Now, the one in rapture in his arms wanted to repeat this deep connection far from the shallow depth of words. He couldn't hope to reject an offer like that.

He didn't. The idea, dead before it pretended to cross his mind "Yes! yes, I'd love to as well! After an experience like this, I'd be stupid to refuse!"

"Well then..." She kisses him again, the desire evaporated to give a full yield to love. No spot of their lips is untouched, taking hold of whatever oxygen lingers in their throats. They pant softly as a result with Florence giving off a wink "I'll be expecting you tonight...And don't worry about that sheet, I'll make sure to have it cleaned up for you...~

A sunny smile reflects on her face, almost deliberate by the sun. It stays fixed even while she waves him bye, her torn robe affixed in a less revealing manner. --- Day 31

They had their shiny stones. Therefore, tey left Decius to his device, wandering back to the shivering entrance of the mines, alone. Their minds, far from him in thoughts. His bag is stretched out, punctured by sets of cloth stationed within. His arms bear down pieces of lumber, cut and polished as feet for tables.

"After years of her just standing here, now might be the time to make it a bit more comfortable". His voice is joined by none other than the echoes of the tunnel leading to the midsection, populated by the ever rotted tables shivering by the moonlight's touch. Downward to the caverns of rainwater where he leaves his stool legs, admiring the place once more...

...and her. Florence, sitting idly by the nearest gathering of water, her legs gently diddling in the vacuous liquid, clear as crystal. Her hands makeshift as a comb, tirelessly toiling to her sublime, yet unkempt hair. Jests of particles filter from the delicate fingers as they floss away the knots of decades worth of ill maintenance.

"Man...should have brought something for that..." His voice sneaks as a whisper, but her body perks up, effortlessly feeling his tone carried by the ambiance. She turns, revealing a visage barely pale, joined in an emerald pitch, just enough for one to associate her to a zombie.

And even then, her movements continually contest this state, flawless and seamless as the water she used as a mirror. Decius couldn't help but be mesmerized again by her immaculate beauty, a heightened grade from yesterday, which already had given more than he expected.

"My sweet-heart, you return~. Her hands dissolve the strand of hair still lodged in her fingernails, burned to a dance of soft light persisting on her palms and feet.

Her pace no longer impaired by limping, she walks in a sworn, yet sultry manner, eyes filled with devotion and a desire for an embrace from her true faithful.

A desire Decius returns infold, his bag dislodged from his back. His arms around her waist, feeding him a cool stream pulsating with warmth. Her lips catching his in a lock, breathing the joy of meeting in this night, anchored by her arms swirled around his shoulders.

"Glad to see you too" he whispers, catching his breath post-kiss. Her eyes diverge to the bloated bag and wooden legs, a benign curiosity in expression.

"I don't recall meals being this garnished" She speaks while only just moving her bountiful chest away from Decius'.

"Ohh, they're underneath".

"Underneath? Underneath what exactly?" Her interest peaks as he walks back to it, moving his self from her immediate vicinity, save for a hand joined to a slightly emerald one, leading a faint blush from the undead.

They finally part under the need to open his bag and free the attires from its leathery shackles. "Ohh!" A moderate surprise blooms on Florence, prompting her palms to collide over her chest. Two sets of cloth hanging from his wrists with a few more laid in their folded manner.

"Yea, sorry, I thought to get you some new clothes. But, looking at them now..." His eyes swipe with relentless energy between the dresses. Beautiful, but plain. Complete, but unremarkable compared to what was available. They stood to fit a merchant's daughter, but no more. A noble might scoff as the apparels and a royal...

Florence was looking at them, her expression, one of still surprise, slowly wearing it down as Decius continued his apology "...I mean, I thought to get some better one to heighten your immaculate beauty, your fair hair pooling in swirls, the increasingly lustrous cheeks that beset even brighter eyes but, it was--

"Perfect". Her voice carries this singular word with the utmost sincerity.

"What?"

"Perfect. They're perfect". Her bare feet approach, prone to touch the fabric, to feel the wool ticking the edge of her fingers.

"Well, I thought of those that blend in seamlessly with you and brought a few more--" Her arms reach around his neck, anchoring her chest to his in a passionate hug ~Thank you! Oh, thank you, sweet-heart! You have no idea how long I've been going around in these rags! To have a humble selection to wear is much more than what I could have asked for!~

The emerald cheek lands on his shoulder fully embraced in the hug. One joined by his arms dragging the selection with him "You're welcome. I thought you'd like to have a few more. And, I'm thinking of getting a few more things as well, for a quality of life. Tables, plates, really, everything present in a home".

"All of this for me? So much effort just to accommodate a poor and lost girl~ Her smile meets his eyes, the former, turned to a passionate one. Her hands move to meet him, aiding him to ut his new clothes on the bar floor.

Her walk distances his new apparels, instead, reaching to a laid sheet, clean and stainless. Heat pours in his cheeks, knowing what fate currently awaited him "Hey, what are we..."

His words are preceded by his back landing on the sheet with the undead woman sitting on his lap. Once again, he can see her underwear had mysteriously disappeared. A seductive and lovestruck voice flows from her lips ~You must be so tired with all this effort to brighten my day. Fufu, I'll bring much-needed relief to your body~

"Hold on, hold on". His words are baseless, worthless to his anticipating mind and body already giving in to this burning desire to feel her again, to lovingly 'devour' her body once more "I thought to come back and bring a few more things for you". Even as he says this, his hands already cling to her bare waist, watching her remove her robe further.

~I know, and I will lend my aid to build this little nest of ours. Right now, my current wish is to re-instate the deep gratitude I bear to you. So, relax. Let me speak with my action...~

--- Day 364, year of the waxing moonlight

An entire year spanned since the first month, faithfully passing to the year of the waxing moonlight, the first year since the drift of the fluorescent light crossing the heavens' threshold, spurned like a mighty tree crying out tears of tidal passages.

The waxing moonlight, shimmering in a closer gap of their town, the country they reside in, the continents, the whole planet...to their celestial neighbor, the moon. Larger, closer, brighter, it shines in pure light, with many taking it as a promise of boons to come.

For one of those was Decius, wrapped in a heat-concealing coat, a joust against the shivering snow seamlessly falling as if pouring in just quantity from the moon in a clear night.

The true indication of him being the same man was by the decision he had to remain without a hat, allowing the light of the moon to reflect on his hairless head, kept to a shine. Otherwise, nothing else spoke to him as before.

He paces, bearing in his arms a sublime cake laced in a chocolate coat sprouting a total of six vanilla balls nested over it. "My greatest feat so far, for a first of many anniversaries" He whispers to himself, sending comprehensive greeting nods to any bypasser.

Whispers of his change come about, looking at a man they scarcely recognize "Hey, see what I'm seeing?"

"Yea? He's going back to those mines alright".

"Yea, but, look at him. He doesn't have that nervous walk to him anymore".

"I reckon the others left him alone since they came back with those tiny gems once in a while. Never thought that place would keep any semblance of worth".

"Yea. Still, though, to think he's so light-spirited. Almost as if he's seeing someone. I mean, I know he was just bringing stuff for his corner, but, jeez, feels like he's building a home back here".

"Wouldn't that be the day? He's probably just going for this place he's thinking a sanctuary. Shame most of the heating materials were bought off".

"Yea...boys claiming it helps in their patrols and whatnot".

Decius makes little of their whispers...and worries. The ongoing days has sought out to make a living space out of the depths, bringing kitchen utilities, basic supplies, esthetics supply, anything, and everything one might need to be able to a call any place home. Florence's home.

The lightening of her domain saw fit to return this care, giving her an ever more outstanding manifestation of her potential beauty...had she the right clothes, beyond the attire of peasants or merchants. Yet, his eyes were all she sought to present herself to, unaware of her rising charm. Ever just happy to meet and join his hands in hers.

Today, amidst a week spent separated by the wheel of work calling to his hands, Decius walked in sure footing, looking to make up for this time disallowing any sort of visit. The end of the previous year often called for a celebration, an act calling further for pastries. His task, his profession, the job he's been steadily mounting in praise, but even more requests as the consequence.

"A happy first anniversary for a happy first year together..." He looks down on his cake, flashing a smile far from the eyes of onlookers, his brightest so far. The chilly wind blowing on his face and the snow drifting on his hatless head was of no hope to wear down his demeanor.

No...that was the heat rushing to him "Huh? Heat? Since when..." Warmth approaches him in every step. The frosty carriage of winter lost greater grasp on him in the decreasing distance to the entrance, a path he remembers to be cold even at the warmest of summers.

"Wait..." Light glows in an opaque fashion, a pale mimic to the sun in both color and heat. Still, it was increasing amid the tree bulks "What...lights? No, can't be their camp..."

His pace accelerates by a decibel, neck stretched forward, swaying left and right. The blur of range falters, his natural eyes adjusting to the approach and darkness illuminated by raw heat "No..."

His pace evolves to a jog "No, no, no..."

To a sprint "No, no, no, no, no...." From the grasp of the final bulk, he sees, witnesses. The choking smoke of gray evaporation lifting beyond. The crackling of the deadwood falling to the plight of overwhelming heat. The fire devouring everything at its front and the innards, erupting more smoke from gaps he couldn't hope to see before the ignition.

"No, no, no! What happened!? What--!?" His hands drop the plate he held by reflex, his instinct turned to the abundant snow to hurl at the front. His fingers dig at the shivering mass of snowflakes gathered to a sphere, running in haste to the front with panic in his mind and dread plunged in his heart like a serrated needle.

"Florence!" He yells, fighting the urge to tear at the prospect of losing her "Florence! I'm coming! Florence, don't worry, I'm coming!"

His feet trample on more snow, waiting to hurl it at the amalgam of flame. But he didn't. It was lost amidst its brethren, snap from his hand by a wooden shaft, cracking against his bare fingers. Ths shock of such an intrusion displaces his sense of balance, ushering a fall face-first to the snow.

"Hey, hey, hey! Look who I found running! Decius, didn't anyone tell you about being careful about rushing headfirst? Especially near a fire". A mocking voice from a sneering tone. One of his tormentors stumbling in place, retrieving his spear to his side.

"He's right, Decius. I don't think a bundle of snow is going to amount to anything". Another voice chimes in behind a grinning visage illuminated by a torch.

Their voices had failed to reach him and embed themselves in his thoughts, the whole of his being shrieking still with another bundle of snow in hands "I'm coming! Hold on, I'm--"

"Hey, hey, hey, now. Can't you hear? There's a fire down here. That won't do jack!" One of the two had taken to grasp his collar from behind, keeping him from his attempts.

"He's right, you know" A third one approaches him from the front, dropping a torch by his side. The leader, smirking with a glance to the burning remains of the mines, the entry, collapsed "We made sure of it".

"What...?" Decius' lips tremble, finally assimilating their words, only by the dreadful prospect they carry. To their stretching grins.

"We got him, boys" Speaks the frontal man, placing a hand on Decius' shoulder "Decius, my friend. We've been hearing of your constant return to this place. With a fair amount of stuff, no less. And yet, walking in several times, we couldn't quite figure out why..."

"You didn't..."

"Those mines you gathered our gems in, they were...empty. No longer of use. But you kept coming back, and we were worried".

"You did not..." His voice cut off, the encroaching epiphany of their presence here, briefly blotted by denial and the urgency of the flames yet fresh.

"We thought to call you off it but...you seemed very invested in this place. I didn't think any of us could speak you out of it. So..."

"You...you..." His hands clench, balling into fists, standing against the grin of the speaker "You burned it?! You---!" A left hook rose from the distraught man, seeking to pummel his tormentor to the humid floor of snow and rock.

He didn't, instead, pulled backward to coldness on the back to a chorus of laughter. Three sinister expressions looked down on his increasingly sobbing demeanor.

"Ohh, don't be like that, Decius! We had to do it. Who knows what kind of things you'd be stumbling with any more time inside. I mean, everything was set for two, as if you had a guest of some sort".

"Yea, some freaking stuff" Add another.

"Besides, we have another, more home-like place for you. A manor, on the foot of the mountains. Don't you worry, we'll be by your side, taking in everything you have to say...or feel". The leader crouches for a closer look to a broken Decius, whimpering in the prospect of his beloved burning in the flames, hidden, alone once again. He laughs, as they laugh, drinking in to his misery.

His face, slack in his moist tears, goaded and mocked by the boys who thought to have found their punching bag once more. Their lightning rod.

The moist tears fall from his fair face, staining his cheeks in water similar to the flakes surrounding and mounting on him. His ears echo their malicious voices, only for them to become but white noise, for amidst their laughter, amidst the flames, amidst the falling snow he came to hear to every flake, silence came to his ears. Serenity. A soothing atmosphere.

And they saw what he saw, curious about his sudden cessation of whimpering. His eyes flashed forward to a twinkling light of emerald origin, docile in its approach. Domesticated as it was, its humble shine outgrew the voracious wrath of fire burning behind and among them.

"Hey...is that...a woman?" One of them winces his eyes, taking in a forced adaptation beyond the bright. Its source is attributed to a scarf wavering in the wind. Ethereal in nature, luminescent in the green tide. A subtle one.

Her attire is that of a villager's, augmented by a fledging of particles in the blue shade on her hands and left. Like a hidden noble seeking to heighten the robe of the mundane to a point of envy for anyone lacking her flawless features further rising her standard.

Her hair flows as her scarf does, a pure white to set over the green luminescence. Irises in the balance of yellow, perfect to their eyes.

Her robe, humble and beautiful. Hidden and revealing. The sleeves would reach her wrists, yet they exacerbated her arms. Her robe hindered much of her body, yet the form is concealed underneath was an irresistible tease to the trio, a bountiful promise to a ripe body to caress.

A thought overwhelming the tormentors, forgetting the man they so casually mocked. Enthralled by her presence, they close in, their voice mustering seduction and raw desire.

The leader's finger grazes her palm, taking it to his "Hey beautiful. What's a mighty fine woman doing, marching in an isolated spot? Are you perhaps...lost? If so, then..." His stare briefly moves from the woman's eyes with great effort, not wanting to lose a second of her breath-taking features to a place far in the trees. A path leading to the village with the intersection of a long-abandoned cabin. A place where, should he be able to lead her, to seduce her, act out his deepest desire, pulled forward by a miasma eroding the little restraint clouding his mind.

His companions rise beside her, the same lecherous gaze on their faces "Yes, my lady. A place like this is so dangerous. Perhaps would you seek shelter in our village? Of course, the road is long, but we are willing to accommodate a beautiful woman such as you".

"Oh really? Are you big strong men willing to escort a fair woman like me? I'm touched. Really..." Her voice trails with the basic seduction, but a stronger sense of discredit towards the trio. Hostility, even, hidden by her tongue.

Her hands were not. Ethereal filaments shape over and around her tender palms bare against the wind, revealed to be in a slight shade of green and blue. A zombie's pigment, yet more than it.

They shine under the moonlight, drinking deep in the celestial's presence. Mesmerized, the spearmen are willfully blind tot he danger cast upon them, the complices shackled by the supersized arms of spiritual construct.

"Eh?! What the?!" Their eyes flash to green, their essence shedding from their very bodies. Their spirit energy, expelled with little to no effort, converted in a shivering process to the hands of arcane. They drop, conscious, yet unmovable.

"What the hell?!" The leader's voice is a temper of shouts, branding the glint of his spear to meet the ghastly woman, more than human. It stops inches from her face, his panic disallowing the sensation of his palm still embedded in the depth of her finger. His stamina is siphoned by a swirl of blue fleeting from him.

His body crumbles in an immobile fashion to the snow like his complices. All of them fixate their gazes on her. Frightful gazes over mouths unable to speak, dreading the light they could not hope to comprehend, dangling like a semi-sentient predator. The emerald shine permanently hovers around her form, waiting, watching.

They shriek in deaf tones, unable to make use of their cords, drawing too much for their inexistent stamina, played with by the eldritch light, an insignificant amount invested in their bodies.

~My beloved, I hear you...~ Her voice speaks with the purest of honey-laced on her tongue, the love of a maiden still shrouded in innocence pours from her aura, a scant shift from the brief but spiteful manifestation of a beast of old.

Her hands cup over Decius' fallen form, joining his mittens to lift him to her height ~You need not worry anymore. These miscreants were far from harming me~

Confusion besets his expression even as her delicate finger cups at his tears, plucking them away like bad roots "Who...who are..."

~Ohh, that's right. I was supposed to bring a great surprise to my beloved. You do not recognize me. Well, perhaps, this will jog your memory~ Her eyes close, the instinct of a kiss well-honed in her body. With no warning, her face leans in, her lips sealed with his.

Burning warmth proverbially sears his cheeks with remembrance. The texture of her lips. The taste. The touch. The breath rushing to dance in their gap. If it wasn't her hair, nor her speech, nor her voice, nor her shape, nor her words, then this, the constant to their unending meetings, rekindled his memory to a similar woman favoring this method of expressing her boundless devotion to his returned empathy.

Moving inches from his face, the zombie shaped to beyond opens her eyes once more, the imprint of her impression dancing on his tongue "Flo...Florence?"

~Yes. I am glad this week spent apart hasn't numb you of our connection~ Her chest leans to his, fully embraced in his arms, relishing his confusion.

"What...happened to you? I mean, look at you, you...you were already so beautiful, so heartful, and now...you're even more, somehow..."

The trio bound to the ground by their lack of strength was astonished, to say the least. Unable to move, to resist her siphoning touch, casually stealing their prowess, yet, their tormented so easily held hands with this woman, her words carrying the voice of a lover. A deluge of torment for the deluded, streaming to this moment with the reveal of her change "Ohh, that is what they call a...a wight if I remember correctly".

"They?"

"Ohh...right. Hold on". Moving a hand from his palm, Florence ushers it to the air, where a fledging of energy swaths over it, materializing an open letter that she presents to him. Three simple words stain the pristine paper of golden filament and tiny encrusted jewels.

'You are invited!'

"Invited?"

"Yes indeed. I do not know how it came to me, but a day after this quiet change, I found it sleeping next to me. All of its information beamed to my mind as a voice. I know the place and how to access it with these new changes to my entire being".

"A voice you say?"

"Yes. A woman of similar shape to me. There are hundreds of us in kingdoms of celestial cerulean. A place where the night becomes the day and the cosmos becomes the night, ushered in a crimson moon. I have been given the privilege of a preview. It's...beautiful. And the people, undead like I am".

"Undead? So they seek to welcome you as one of their own. Why didn't they come for you far sooner?"

"They did. But couldn't. I was unable to hear the psychic call, as lost as I was. With this new form, the new rebirth, arcane means have become child's play to me. This is the surprise I sought to share with you...at least before these three scoundrels went to burn our little domain".

"I see. Then, I---" Decius' voice became gravel. For but a second, however, the sentence left unfinished by the soft touch of her palm.

"Will be coming with me, of course". A smile etches on her natural pale emerald lips, scorning the belief of goodbyes between the two.

"But, is this letter not for you?"

"Actually, no. And yes. To become in a state that I currently am is to be loved deeply. As deeply as my fogged memory knew the moment I was allowed to rest on your shoulder, aimless and adrift. She saw it as well and want me to bring you as the rest did".

"Ohh?...Ohh!" His eyes widen at the realization that they would cross the road together. Not separated, but joined anew in a place a scarce amount of mortal ever set foot in. Voicing his anxious anticipation was at this point, impossible. But Florence saw it, ever happier.

The abating flames no longer mattered to him. The ruins of his yearly tolling no longer mattered. An invitation awaited to another kingdom, to another land. He was...ready.

~Then, this time, I shall be your guide~ Florence's voice whisper to his ear as she begins to backtrack, her hands taking his. Straight to the flames, through the flames, unwilling to dare to harm the couple by the blinding light of emerald emanating from the wight's scarf.

They disappear in the ruins, covered by flames. Witnessed by the trio, with the last sight of their feet dissipating in the smoldering ruins, leaving them just now reeling from her impromptu siphon as shadows approached in their dozens... --- The winter came and went. Year after year for a cycle of three passing through time. It stops to the repetition of the new year's advent, a time seeing people celebrate with a gathering of pastries and nightly walks.

This moment is but glanced by an individual wandering from a place familiar and forgotten. Not utterly, but a drifting memory. From the ruination of a secluded entrance walks a man. Held by a cane inserted by a sapphire end. Held by a box devoid of all but a pure white and a blue ribbon and bow. Far from the people's eyes. Far from their minds.

A moment, he surfaces from the withered panels of wood. In another, he walks the local containment, empty for years in his life. The guard, once proud of this record, is but in a grumbling mood, having to watch over the few that now linger in his domain. A change brought by the wanderer's hand on his shoulder.

Turning to the stranger, he was surprised, a face wandering to him. The correspondent returned a sublime pastry glazed in a mithril vanilla coating, a wink to his eye now mired in light blue. The soft thing rests in the guard's hand, an invitation to join the rest in their festivities.

Decius walks to one of the bars. Three laid in a cell. One was of interest. He rose from his bunk, instantly recognizing the lone visitor. Came to the bar, screaming. Immediately screaming, rousing the two others.

His former tormentors, locked since his parting. His absence, an accusation of attempted and potential murder by their hands. The evidence, overwhelming, as they were the only one who had run timbers and fire-starting supplies out of stock. Merely to burn his spot. Merely to burn his peace.

Backlashed against them, yet they scream with no regret at their torments, their apathy. Yelling to be released, yelling insults they once whispered behind his back. Yelling at him.

Yelling no more, back to the corner of their cell in a harrowing expression. Dreading their former punching bag. The leader first demoted from his rank, the first to see his will falter before the gaze of the new man. The light that bears on his shoulders, his attire of white and blue. An eldritch light in their minds, renewing the flames of their dread, now part of him.

They feared him as much as the woman who brought them low. Mere shadows of themselves. No more worth of anything but contempt. The only gift he parts with them, leaving the place, cold and dark amid a new moon.

His pace brings him to the center, notice close behind. People curious about the new face embedded in a silver mask of a scarf. A hook to their senses springs in the shape of a box open with a bounty of never-seen pastries.

The guard's passing yield to their taste brought the people unite, each prompted to join with one, unable to discern the box bringing one for every taken bit. Enough for all, make sure by the wanderer with a promise to return for the next year. A promise they'd take after but a bite in his delight.

But before his departure, to their finest confectioneries, they bid him visit with mentions of an old tenant. One they miss, gone from their world. Him, they miss, thinking to be dead.

He would return, one day, waving at many of them in his depart. Back to the ruination of his old self. Back to the advent of his renewal, just like her...

...her that waited through the rift to their undead kingdom ruled by an ancient. Running in a villager's gown. Running towards the man, spreading her arms with one in the glint of a band attached to her finger. A silver ring affiliated with an emerald gem at the top, the safe as her scarf.

She falls on his arms, spinning in the rows of their embrace, graced by the light of the eternal moon, the celestial body, their window to the stars. Today was as much celebration for the undead land as it was for the living. A time where other kingdoms like them would bind in a great bounty of trade and communion.

In it, a request from the wight held in Decius' arms. One awaited since her rebirth. One he had long known, demonstrated in the soft patting of her shallow stomach, eager to see it swell one day, nurtured. To whisper and sing to the infant within.

A dream gestated in her mind, to become a mother.