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Should I move this to the NSFW forum for more views and stuff

  • yes

    Votes: 14 82.4%
  • no

    Votes: 3 17.6%

  • Total voters
    17
  • Poll closed .
Interlude: Sear, Seer, Sea Captain
Bet you weren't expecting this so soon now did you?



The sharp click of heels sounds loud in the relatively moist hallway as I move down it. I can feel a smile that I struggle to keep from becoming too bright as I make my way past students and the things following them invisibly down the hall. Some of them even wave at me as I pass or give me a smile...

What a bunch of idiots...

I check to make sure that my form looks just the way I want it while I slide to a stop before the classroom.

Tan blazer, check!
Orange turtle neck, snazzy!
Black pencil skirt, just off the edge of distracting, so perfect!
Orange stilettos with black sheer tights, good, not great but just enough.

So, the cloths look good, now what about the rest? I hear the soft crackle of splintering bone as the smell of wonderful, choking smoke asks me if I got my transparency right. I look "down" to make sure. Okay so it looks good, or at least it looks like a human. My smile splits my face as I confirm that everything is ready to go. I quickly school it back down and walk through the door.

"Good morning class," I said as I quickly scan the room. It has maybe eleven living students, which is pretty good for Sawtooth even if we would have had twice the amount in my day. I also notice that several ghosts have decided to join the class, invisible to the other students. Some look nervous at seeing me, others look a bit less bored. I wave to a few of them nearest the living, don't want to give away the trick too soon. "I will be your professor today."

I step onto the podium in the circular class room filled with the living and the dead. The living look confused, and one raises her hand. "Yes," I say while pointing to her.

"Kitty Dole," she says her name...LIKE I ASKED... "Where is Professor Dunwich?"

I cool my internal fires as I try to keep my composure... Even if Mrs. Dole would look good in my fires, maybe later? I guess I should answer. "Professor Dunwich had an unfortunate accident with matches last night," I smile. The living all look uncomfortable, but the dead actually start to giggle. "Now I understand that he was teaching," I look down at the book on the podium and try to keep the giggles and screaming inside, "fundamentals of Anima formation." I want to roll my eye at the author's name, Amon Morgan. Sure, the man is one of the only living that is close but is nothing compared to what I know. "We won't be doing that."

The burnable girl who parts of me wishes to smother with smoke and the other parts want to hide in her flesh and consume her... slowly, speaks up, "what will you be teaching us?"

I look up slowly from the book and smile at bright and smoldering, "witchcraft..."

The look on their face as I burst into flames is priceless.


"AhAhAhahaAhahahahaha!"

I cringe as I walk down the hall to the facilities... dead room. The cackling burning form of Elain laughing at her "prank" on the morning class as she floats along besides me.

"You should have seen the looks on," she wheezes out a fog of smoke as she burst into more laughing, then screaming, "THEIR FACES! THEY WERE ALL, "Oh no please don't burn us Elain.""

I continue sloshing through the centimeters high water as the wrath next to me goes silent. Ignoring the undead as she gathers herself for more words.

"Then she started crying," the voice is the sound of extinguishing embers, as Elain becomes distressed, "I didn't mean to make her cry Amon."

I ignore that too. Considering that Elain was probably hoping for more screaming and possibly for one of the students to be set on fire, she will gain no sympathy from me. A few weeks ago, maybe, back when I still felt guilty for what happened to my former student, but after close to a month of being around her, no. Elain is a monster. I thankfully was told and arrived before she could do anything, it was Ms. Dole that was crying...

"Kitty is cute..."

I feel myself cringe again, my old bones aching and heart quickening at the thought of another undead becoming... attached to one of the staff or a student. I'd tell her no, but that might just encourage her... she likes to take things that hurt me. I don't need more guilt on my conscious, Kathrine is already in the building after all.

I stop by a set of double doors and turn to her. There is not much human about Elain besides shape. She looks like the burning sacrifice she was in her final moments, but I doubt that the "extra" stuff was present. Her body is a red angry mess of black scars and exposed burn tissues that make her sexless and lithe thin. The eyes in her skull are dark with a burning point of fire deep in the head like two twin stars. her hair is smoke rising endlessly behind her, great black plumes of dark soot and hot like volcanic clouds. Thankfully she is keeping that in mind as she hasn't seriously injured anyone yet after I told her not too.

"Elain I told you to not teach a class," I sigh as she stares molten daggers into me, "don't make me attempt to get rid of you."

The threat makes her laugh, the sound of burning bodies and snapping bones. "You may think that knowing something would help, but there are too many undead here now for you to do much of anything."

I open the door for her and gesture inside, "Oh and how many exactly are here?" She looks at the opened doorway and rolls her starlight eyes as she walks through the closed door, searing the metal and wood black. I sigh and walk inside.

"Twenty Thousssand sseven hundred ssixty-three."

The room is packed. I can see skeletons quietly chattering their teeth based language in the corner, a pair of them were playing some dice game and trading animal teeth. Near the back I could see a truly old draugr tuning an instrument while over a dozen zombies stare with blank eyes in all directions. Just next to them I can see twenty ghouls stare hungrily at each other, their arms and fingers twitching as they fight their instincts to fight and eat one another, Moryt is near them looking completely relaxed next to them, he has lived longer after all. I can see Kathrine next to a ramshackle forge sharpening her broadsword, her head in her lap a she works. At the back are a pile of bodies, revenants still asleep before the night when they reanimate, although I do see a few vampires lying down in the pile.

In the center of the room is a table, the undead at it are a little more abnormal. Dracula, or Leech as her real name appears to be... never let old vampires watch capes it gives them weird ideas. She stands next to Alexander, a wispy thin vampire that the society here had briefly contacted when it was still limited to Europe for its studies. Leech is his master, and while we did meet with her before, she pretended to be a he and only call herself Dracula. Her current form's age exemplifies her immature nature. Next to the vampire lord is a very old wight. He is a grayish purple, a long white beard and it looks like he is missing most of his body with how full of holes he is. He is also laughing like the pirate he is dressed as. The final one is where the voice came from.

She is turned from me, but her backless dress shows off the sliver snake scales forming two large patches on her lightly tanned flesh. They extend up from beyond the backless dress to wrap around up her throat and end around her eyes. Her hair is light brown and very curly, she keeps her eyes covered by a white blindfold. She is displaying a two pronged mark on her shoulder, it weeps green and black.

Iris is... interesting. The seer has most of the properties of a banshee, oraculum suspendium, and an elder vampire, vampiris sanguis. The fact that she was apparently some sort of soothsayer, or seerer as many of the undead call her, in life just adds to the mystery. Hybridization of undead doesn't occur as far as research goes, so what is she, how does she see the future with the afterlife? I don't need to see her face to know that she is talking to me, that snake-like voice always sounds like it is right next to your ear when it is speaking to you...

"That is a bit more than I expected," honestly the presence of numbers doesn't matter really, twenty undead in the facility is too much to handle for the staff. Undead are just designed to hunt the living, and there aren't enough tools on hand to fight them, there is only so much I can do without tools either. You can't put the dead down with your fists alone after all.

"It is mosstly incorporealss," she responds to me, a turn and smile of her huge mouth given shows her two nine inch long fangs folded back like a snake. If she bites you your dead, the wounds are simply too deep. Elain floats over to the table which gets Leech to perk up.

"So how did the prank go," Leech says excitedly with red gleaming eyes. I can see Alexander paling before looking at me with pity. I appreciate an undead that isn't insane, but I don't need his pity. I scowl back. Some excited chattering and exchanging of teeth goes on in the corner of my eyes as I walk up near the table. I don't dare step closer, to them I'm not a friend... or even an equal, really.

"I met someone..." Oh no, I think as I hear Elain's voice become dreamy.

"See I told you, you would." The sound of more excited chattering and more teeth changing hands. It also looks like a few are holding each other's ribs, skulls close as they trade them. Sometimes skeletons give me hope for the world, but I've seen what they do to people when angered and it isn't pretty. "Sorry for interrupting dear."

A few soft hisses from Iris as she blindly looks at Leech, a green flush on her neck. God this is uncomfortable, why don't you guys just act evil all the time it makes you very confusing when you act like this. "It'ss okay dear you can make it up to me later," I ignore that, "anywayss, The Captain'ss ship will be arriving by the river Thamess in twelve dayss, thirteen hourss, twenty-two minutess, and ssecondss you can guesss at later."

"That is awfully accurate," I say, "aren't future readings a little vaguer?"

"Oh, we only do that to make the living usse their brainss," she smiles small as a few of the undead chuckle, "pluss they don't believe you unlesss you phrasse it as a riddle."

"Aye it be more fun when they be annoyed too," the old wight interjects, "got ta get our enjoyment out of ta living somes way."

I feel left out as most of the heads, even the ones not at the table (even one of the revenants who should be a still corpse!), start nodding in agreement. I place my head in my hands as I process that, "is that why asking about how undead anima and ethereal work is like pulling teeth?"

"No," he scoffs, and I look up just in time to watch a worm out fly out of his mouth and onto the table. Moryt casually walks up to the table and eats it. No one is shocked or disturbed by that at all, my stomach is twisting. "Yer still alive, yer kind don't get it when us explain it to ya bilge-sucking sea urchins," his hand smacks the table as he finishes at the same time a bang from behind me sounds.

I turn as I hear the door get kicked in and a... "MORYT!"... woman's angry shout from behind me. I see a fuming Heather Dixon stomp though and right towards the eager ghoul. Heather is a guard, or more importantly, Moryt's handler. She is a hundred seventy something centimeters of red headed fury, the scar on her face from where Moryt bit her cheek off is not healing closed so you can see the bright white of her teeth through the hole.

Moryt, casually walks towards her with open arms, "yes honey?"

I watch, with no small amount of satisfaction, as Heather decks him into the wet dirt of the floor. The skeletons chatter excitedly as they smack their claws together, as Heather straddles the ghoul and starts wailing on his head. Elain starts yelling out suggestions as she cackles and screams her support of the ghoul's, likely deserved, punishment. I think Moryt's happy laughter as he is getting beat up just makes Heather angrier.

The people at the table just chuckle before ignoring the entertainment. I decide to do the same, interpersonal relationship counseling is not my problem after all. "Do you have any more information on the wail we heard," I ask as the sounds of impacts become the crack of bones behind me, "or maybe who is calling all of the undead?"

"A Queen!"
"A General..."
"An Admiral, lad!"
"A goddesss..."

The simultaneous answers are all different, but they don't look like any of them care all that much. Two of them, Leech and Iris, claim that they are a ruler and female. The other two, Alexander and The Captain, further explain some form of military leader. So at least that is something since they didn't give me titles when I've asked about the caller before.

"As for the wailss," Iris hisses, "She iss ssaying she iss ready, we will need to meet her ssoon as she hass reached a new age."

"She is growing up quick if she is a vampire," I frown, "or maybe a wendigo, union, amalgam, or one of the dozens of other undead." I frown harder as most of the undead just shake their heads or roll their eyes.

"She iss none of thesse thingss, and your sspeciess lisstss are jusst to help you undersstand," a cold scale covered claw of a hand rests on my shoulder, "you're not going to undersstand anymore until you ssee."

I sigh and hear the sound of metal boots walking up. "Trust me Amon," Kathryn says walking up to the table, her head in her arms as hair made of fire spills out from the helm, "I may of had an advanced education from my life, but I knew next to nothing about undeath compared to now, and I've only been dead for a few decades!" I frown as she comes near.

Dullahans are rare, like most undeads that are regionally locked. Kathrine doesn't look like any of them, but it is probably her armor that is the strangest. It is bright blue with paint and is a mix of old full plate and cape-like tinker crap in design. I grumble internally about how capes have even infected their ideas into the undead. I can't really blame her for the strangeness of her armor, every dullahan makes their own armor after all, and she has made it work in full function. Doesn't make me any less tiffed that it is so... modern. Probably just trying to distract myself from looking her in the eye, makes it easier that it is waist height. "These old farts have been around since the dark ages, some even longer."

"Hey are you calling me old?" I watch as Leech's voice cause a pained look cross Alexander's face.

"Master you arose at the dawn of humanity, you are old."

"Oh, no Alexander how could you," a mocking tone in her voice as she fakes a look of betrayal, "your master feels so dejected, I think I might go take a walk." I watch as the already pale vampire turn ghost white at her words. I make sure to give him a look of pity, enjoying the schadenfreude at his clear dread.

"So, you mentioned a ship."

"Aye, a ghost ship," the wight spits a rotting tooth out like it is chewing tobacco, "We'll be knock'n all the bridges out too, fun it'll be, eh?"

It's not like half of them aren't already gone, London bridges don't really get much use here behind the wall. I nod, "is it safe for the living?"

"Yer coming with eh," I watch his hollow gray eyes twist up as he thinks, "yer people can come, but best bring food and ain't gonna haff living stuff either."

"Are you sure Amon," I look up at Kathrine as she straps her head back into place, we both ignore the skeletons exchanging teeth behind me. "We are headed a long ways overseas, to meet up with potentially millions of undead."

"It's fine, most of the students and staff are interested to get out of the Simurgh containment since Iris told us the thing's dead," I say, "plus it will be good for the society to maybe interview some more undead, I also want to see this general too." I turn to The Captain eager to stop looking into the black slit of Kathrine's helm, I shudder to see what is inside, "I request the right to bring weapons, both physical and spiritual."

That gets a few of the undead to give me a nasty look, mostly the old ones, but I am not going to give my people up to a ghost ship without any defense. The Captain gives me a look more serious than I've seen on his face for this entire conversation. He finally nods, "I don't know who the Admiral is, but they be important, don't be making mistakes wit the world lad."

I nod and turn to leave, "come on Ms. Dixon we have some work to do."

I walk by Heather just as she pulls Moryt in for a last solid punch, "yes sir." The hit is loud, but Moryt stands up before we leave.

"Amon," he hisses through broken reforming teeth, "you can't just walk off with my partner, without consequences." The ghoul lunges for me, but I dodge quicker than him. The half man lands into my knee striking upwards with as much force as I got. The hardened spine of a ghoul three-hundred years my senior cracks in half as my kneecap punches into his sternum. He falls to the ground reeling as I stomp my foot hard into his femur snapping it like a twig.

The ghoul doesn't get up, "Heather take him to his room, I'll work on getting people together for supplies." I stare dispassionately at the ghoul as the broken kneecap in my leg fuses back together, scared no doubt, just like all my other ones. I shake my head and continue to walk out, the eyes of the undead on my back, unfriendly...



Hope you enjoyed, Worm characters next time I promise... maybe.
 
Interlude: Lung
A very short one, important but short...



"...The PRT had this to say..."

*hiss* *beep* *huuu* *hiss* *beep* *huuu* *hiss* *beep* *huuu*

The ambient hiss of drawn breath and the steady beat of a heart monitor were the only sounds besides the television. I haven't opened my eyes yet, not time, and while I'm sure that I am not in the bay right now...

"...On February 24th, 2011, the 12th attack by the third endbringer took place in the capital. The president, most of the representatives of the house, and the senate were successfully airlifted out of the zone before the Simurgh's effects could be permanent, as of this time there are no known signs of the president being compromised..."

The world has been quiet... Irritatingly so. My rage comes and goes as though whatever happened to me has slowed my healing to the point that simple anger is not enough to restore my body. The knowledge that Oni Lee is... dead, has been a useful catalyst while I gather my strength.


A spiral of black limbs grips my body, large chunks of my body being ripped off and disappearing as the mass of limbs grows. I watch as fire does nothing, my gouts of flame causing the darkness to only grow as it washes over it.

The world spins as the now mountain of darkness pulls my feet out from under me, and then it starts to drag me. How dare it, I am Lung, and I will not take this disrespect! I try to rip out of the thing's grip, but its fingers just bury themselves deeper into my legs. I grow wings to gain more purchase as it speeds down the street, asphalt ripping at my scales.

In response to my wings, the shadow hands reach up and snap them off like twigs. I feel my legs tear and regrow only to be eaten again and again and again. I try to stay angry as I'm pulled along, but the hands are creeping across my stomach now breaching my metal flesh with ease, the panic starts to set in. I try getting angry at that, fighting the fear with my anger, but I lose it when I-


*hiss* *beepbeepbeepbeep** *huuuuuuuuu*

The warm fire is stoked as I remember my attacker, not by anger though. Fear... I warm at that ridiculous notion. I am Lung, my power is absolute! Even the endbringers give pause when facing me.

"The country's government is being moved to the west coast to a secure location while seal the city..."

Still, it was a good opponent, although it's tactics could use some work. Overwhelming force is a tactic for ants, I will be ready the next time we face...

"... As for the rumors of a fourth endbringer appearing and defeating the Simurgh..."

What?

"... they are true..."

*BANG*

My eyes open at the sound of the gunshot before traveling to the door to my room.

"... The endbringer known as Apophis, appeared during the fight and killed the Simurgh via unknown means. Footage of the event is being analyzed by thinkers, and discussions of possible threats by Apophis are being discussed. However, it has been confirmed that the Simurgh is indeed dead..."

I ignore the TV as my powers blaze my senses back to full. I can hear them, four men, a hit squad by my enemies? Or worse... The Yàngbǎn has always been known to have agents in other counties. I tense, feeling the sharp bones exposed to the air in what remains of my left forearm. The right is worse, down to the shoulder with just an arm bone sticking from the socket and fleshed shoulder. I close my eyes and open my senses, wait as the fools come to me... This would be better if I still had some of my legs, but I guess I'm escaping tonight.

"... The new endbringer left the battle after slaying and consuming the Simurgh, and it is assumed that it disappeared into the Atlantic.."

I hear the door open and semi-silent footsteps approach the bed.

"Jesus," a male voice, Boston accent, "they really fucked this guy up."

I hold back my irritation as someone walks to the right. "Quiet," new voice younger, on my right, "boss wants to make this look like the Nazi's so watch the door, I don't want to get interrupted operating this thing."

A low electric hum sounds next to me. The man leans closer, inch by inch, by...

"AAAARRRGGH!"

I thrust forward with my exposed bones as my eyes meet my assassins. The boy impaled on my catches fire as my low burning anger becomes a white hot rage. I almost want to smile when I feel my exposed chest close for the first time since I've been awake...

"... At this time officials are warning inhabitance of the north-eastern region that Apophis was last seen heading up the coast. They have shown an extreme propensity for violence, and it is advised to keep a distance, if spotted call..."

I roar as I roast the room now full of blood and viscera, it is time for the dragon to reclaim his territory.

This is more set up stuff for more of the story to take place, it also the shortest threadmark I think, so I hope you like it. This will help me find Lung's voice too for this story so it is important to know for stuff where he isn't just a rage dragon...
 
Interlude: Wendigo
Okay so this should be the last interlude for the time, it mostly introduces two characters from the background story, but I promise that the next time I post a chapter it will be Taylor and Co. Just needed these guy on scene at the right time...


The world whips by as I try my hardest not to stumble...

The roots of the forest floor reaching up like hands to grab at my rapidly moving legs. I haven't heard him in a few miles, I think over the sound of my panting, so I should be goo-

ARrrrOoooOOO

"Fu- haaa," I pant, hands on my knees as I look back at dark swirling forest behind me, "-ck." I brace myself against a tree and get back to running. Where the fuck is this place supposed to be? I dodge around a root as I listen for my pursuer. The low sound of stomping hooves and huffs of deep breaths sound way too close to me.

I turn down a grove of trees, the forest floor becoming an abandoned road before I breeze by the landmark. The fuck is wrong with this country? I stare briefly at the hidden town, modern yet looking like nature has completely over taken it, a familiar sight in my trek from Alberta to New Hampshire. The steps sound on asphalt behind me and I roll instinctually away as a hand tries to grab me.

Pay the fuck attention, James, I mentally curse my stopping. I just need to get to Brockton Bay, New Hampshire, he said he would stop chasing me there back when we crossed paths in one of the Dakotas. I dash back into the wood from the abandoned relic of a small town in America. The stomps behind me pick up the pace and I can feel my heart race as my exhausted body is forced to run faster. I should have followed the highway... maybe he would have gotten harried by some Yank heroes. I can't frown right now, huffing and puffing like I am, but I can already tell that the idea of my... 'friend' dealing with heroes.

I look behind me and see a massive dark stain on the world rip through a tree.

AAAARRROOoooooOO-huuu

Yeah no, the world already has villains like the Slaughterhome whatever their name. Best not drive every small town left from their exoduses even deeper into the cities with real monsters. My musings on the implications of the creatures of death becoming... well, less secretive, is interrupted by a flicker of many lights to my left, finally! I turn and make a straight path for the tree line.

My 'friend' has been chasing me on foot for the last two months as I cross the entirety of America. Granted he hasn't been a total knob about it... he gave me a three day head start. I see the lights of a large city and smell the saltiness of the ocean on the air as I run closer. Okay a three day's head start on running across the Colonies is still being a massive knob, but... well, he can be very persuasive when he is excited. I feel my foot catch on something and soon my dead sprint comes to a dead stop as my face, and glasses, slam into the dirt. My vision flashes a white, and I can hear heavy hooves slowly walk over to me.

They stop by my head as I lay face first in the dirt. This is embarrassing, a large bone hand covered in long claws picks me up by my shirt, and it just got worse. I feel the glass on my right lens fall from my closed eye as Wendigo holds my face up to his. I am 'blessed' with being near sighted, so despite having the glass missing from one of my glasses I can see the entirety of his face, or skull I guess is the proper term.

Two twin points of a sharp and dangerous red stare out of the empty black voids of the skull head. Long and pointed with not a hint of flesh along the massive deer skull. The buck's horns twisting the eye as they stretch up and up to disappear into the forest branches. The skull is painted with depictions of the crescent moon and histories of its old forms, not the one that Hollywood has inspired in the beast in front of me now. After all my 'friend' likes the movies when I could get the projector running.

I stare cold murder as I feel its craving try to penetrate my mind, he smiles, somehow. "Okay so you caught me," I shiver as it practically vibrates with its pleasure at my submission, "now can we- woah!"

As if my embarrassment isn't enough, I find that he is now caring me, bridal style, into town! Fuck me...

That can be arranged~

"No, no, don't you start" I start almost rolling out of his high off the ground arms, " this has always been just a professional relationship, okay." The red dots roll.

But James how can you forget all those nights together in the woods...

"The biting was purely... educational too," I try my hardest not to think about that night up in the cold Rocky's, just the two of us in the snow... I shake my head and try to keep my flush down, "and that one time with the heater breaking was just survival!"

You were soooooo soft James, as you snuggled back into me...

I can't even try to keep from being cherry red at his rumbling growl.

…practically tempting me and my thralls.

"D-ddon't bring the thralls into this," I feel... faint at the thought of this avatar of hunger and his mountain of thralls... in my cabin.

They still think about you, you know. Their little living snack, so tender, so soft. I think some of them still...

I shake my head harder trying to dispel the disgusting... image. "Th-they don't have any will, so don't make it sound so normal, like everyone is doing it, when it is only you that's the pervert!" I try not to screech as we start to enter the city outskirts. Wouldn't do for the undead to be discovered, although maybe watching him get beat up would stop him from growling like that.

Avatar of cannibals my arse, Dr. Morgan was wrong when he sent me on this damned expedition. There is no wendigo in the Canadian Rocky's, this is clearly just the spirit of a long dead sexual deviant!

Oh James, my James. There is no need to be so callous, I would never take you without permission...

"You know what I mean," I accuse. "And like you don't get pushy sometimes, you made me run halfway across the Land," I say to change the subject, "I don't even remember why I agreed to come here in the first place, that is how far we ran."

We came here because I was called, you came with because I told you that everyone would be there, and you agreed to let me chase you because you l~ove it when I catch you!

I feel something cold slide out of the exposed ribcage I'm pressed against and move down my- "Stop that," I slap the appendage away and frown as the growl gets deeper, "and I did not agree to that! I just said it would be interesting to see who might be here-"

First, to see who might be here first. That makes it a competition James...

His arms tighten as his long neck looks down at me, I gulp as I can see his eye lights practically burn with lightning and freeze like winter.

Competitions have prizes, James...

We've stopped moving and I can feel my mouth dry as I stare deep into his red dots, "what did you want as your prize?"

I quiver as his points look hungerly up and down my body. It reminds me of the first years I spent with him. He was respectful, as Dr. Morgan's reputation is well known even here in the Americas. When London fell to the Simurgh, and Sawtooth was sealed behind the wall, that protection went away. Me and my subject, both dodged and hunted each other for three years. It wasn't until that night in the snow when we both became friends, I then spent the last four years of my life living on the mountain of a wendigo and its close to two hundred thralls. Still, I remember this look.

The soulless black hunger of his deep dark eyes, the light panting of frosty mist, the thrum across my mind that wants me to pick up a weapon and find the nearest human. I could really go for some human flesh right now, but I've had years to ignore this creature's empathic hunger.

Wendigos, as described in Dr. Amon Morgan's book Undead, or vampiris carnis are like the name suggests, an American undead similar to vampires. You see this giant creature of dead flesh and exposed bones staring down at me, doesn't want to consume my flesh. No that is what his thralls are for. A wendigo is a multiform shapeshifting undead, native to the Canadian wilderness in modern days, that feeds off the souls of those it corrupts into eating like flesh, or cannibalism. He would love for me to find the nearest human, kill them, and eat their flesh so that I would become his and he can graze on my soul, forever.

The 'science' of this process is, as far as I can understand from my years of talking to Wendigo, not science. I'd have an easier time trying to turn lead into gold, which is why I'm not a scientist from Sawtooth, I am a historian graduate with my PhD in North and South American mythology, and I interview the dead. So, I guess in Sawtooth you'd call me an anthropologist, but historian is a much nicer word.

The dark look from Wendigo slowly brightens from starving for the very marrow in my bones to just a bit peckish to taste my face. "James," my breath hitches at the sound of my name whispered through the skull like a cold wind, so much harsher than the deep voice of inside my head, "I would choose for you to join my mountain as mine." My stomach drops at its request for a prize, I would never have agreed to come here if I knew that this was a risk. My heart stops beating.

But~ I'll instead ask that we keep courting!

The relief on my face doesn't reflect my bodies practical unwinding as my muscles relax. It isn't until we are hiding into an abandoned building do his words catch up to me.

"THE FUCK YOU MEAN, COURTING!"


Yes it is short, but that is why I can post it so fast. Now that these two are out of the way, the stage is set for March.
 
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Beginning of Arc 2: Maybe This School Will Be Different
SO we are getting into the next part of the story, but I think that the updates will be slowing down. The reason for this is that I started another fiction on the other side of the site and I kind of am enjoying writing for that. I have plans for this arc and one is understanding what is going on. Including what Taylor's actual powers are, where the Administration shard is, and the beginning of the greater threat. I have a general idea on how it all goes out, but between starting back up with school and kind of getting burnt by this story, I will not be able to update this like I have in the past. I hope you all understand, and thank you for reading!

It was a calm night out here on the bay, the waters not rocking the boat too hard as the hi-vis bobber rests on its line. Larry was feeling quite happy to be out on the water. The dark expanse of solid black fluid gently rolls as the clear sky reflects across it, the orange glare of city light pollution making the stars limited. Larry couldn't care about that, always been a city person. No Larry was happy for three very good reasons. The man smiled as he felt a sharp tug on the line.

One was kind of obvious as he is not the only one celebrating it, The Simurgh is dead! Apparently, it happened three days ago during the endbringer fight and was a hush hush deal until a day later. Needless to say, that when the news broke that the screaming bitch was dead the bars filled up right quick. Larry smiled as he pulled out a good-sized fish that didn't look too dirty, the bay isn't exactly clean after all. He shrugged and put it with the others. The parties haven't really died down in the last two days and he doubts that people have plans to quit anytime soon. The knowledge of a fourth endbringer, Apof-something, being the one that did it hasn't dampened anyone's mood, everyone hated the bitch more.

The other two reasons for the man's fishing trip have more to do with personal matters. The first one being that he quit his job! He huffs as he thinks about it, Winslow is a shit hole and being its janitor meant that he had to clean it, but after he pulled that dead girl from that locker... Well, it is not like he couldn't handle it really, it is what he was told after that made him quit. That is the second one, when Larry discovered via the FB-fucking-I that the girl was purposely placed inside that hellish thing, they wanted him for a statement, and he had no qualms giving one.

Bulling has always been a problem at the school and usually Larry doesn't have to deal with that kind of shit as he was mostly on the night shift. It just so happens that the one time he picked up a early shift he got to see that...

The boat rocks gently as he casts back another and tries to shake the image, and worse the smell, from his mind. The air was getting warmer now that February was ending soon, and it was calm too, perfect for a night fish. "I hope they fucking nail that bitch Blackwood," he says as he lights up a cigarette. Larry and one other, some student, are the only ones that came forward to give a statement about the girl from the locker. He guesses that it was serious enough because PRT are suing the school too, another thing to celebrate as he is being allowed part of the joint suit. Sure, it tanked his career, no one wants a janitor who would sue their employer at the drop of a hat, not in this town. It doesn't matter to the man, he is being paid quite good by some third party, and he doesn't mind the idea of retiring a bit early... or moving to Boston, he has a brother over there.

Larry fails to see it on the horizon as a huge wave rams into the boat.

Thankfully, it just made him lose his fishing rod... he still cursed up a storm about it.


I didn't think that we would see Larry from the prologue, but there he is in all his fired janitor glory.
 
Chapter 49: End of Break (End of Arc I)
Hey so yeah I just kind of would like to run this by people, as it does a lot to the story. Technically if I was writing books this would be book two and takes place a month after DC. So yeah you didn't see any of the metamorphosis of Swarm or other things, but that is kind of how the story was always going to go. Please tell me if this is a good chapter or not, and if you would like for me to do side stories of the fluff of the break period as they don't really add to the story in my opinion, but I could still write about them.

The waves crash on the rusty dead hauls of Brockton's murdered shipping industry. The dark waters of night sweeping up stone and across sand as the city lights burn in the air. The sounds of celebration and partying are absent to the dark stretch of shoreline as many bone covered hands pull themselves out of the black...

A month later...

She is standing in the backyard again...

I carefully wipe my shaking hands of their water as I stand by the sink and stare outside at the form of black and white. The sound of morning birds painting the picture of the scene. Of Taylor standing above the mound of disturbed dirt in her backyard.

I can see her hands clenched at her sides, all covered in the black bones of her new form. The shifting mass of her hair as it flows like a wave across the yard, the eyes shining white in the black cloth of feathers.

The city doesn't notice as the three forms walk through the dark streets. The bundled form of a child wrapped in white silk in their arms as the funeral procession heads to the grave site...

I watch my shaking legs and feet, taking great care to keep the involuntary spasms along my spine from tipping me over as I walk to the backdoor here in the kitchen. The sound of Danny finishing breakfast, and the groaning creaks of Rose's movements as she digests... something. Just a normal morning here at home...

[your next severe spasm will be in twenty-three minutes...]

"Thank you," I whisper to my power as I make my way down the single step onto the grass. My steps are still slow but walking around by myself is a great improvement compared to last month. The warm April air is contrasted by the cold silk of Taylor's hair as I get closer.

The knock on the door at the dead of night has most of the undead building waking up its occupants. The warm glow of its light flashing on and the soft click of its doors unlocking as the house's daughters returns home. The father comes down the stairs with the home and the sister too. A long argument on his tongue cut short by the looks of his children as they move to bury their own child...

I walk until I bump into her back, my shaky arms sliding around her waist as I pull myself into a hug. "Morning," I whisper.

There is a pause and I wait for my girlfriend to collect herself as her hair starts to climb up my legs. "Morning," the voice is breathy as I feel some tension around her core release.

The dirt is consumed from the three's fingers after the ceremony, and a quiet conversation is had between the mothers, father, and daughters. Then the trio make their way up the single flight of steps to their bedroom. They crawl into the bed already overflowing with the third daughter's other bodies as the new bodies make their way to the living center of the mound...

"You have school today," I say into the cold back just enjoying the final day of calm after our month long break from the outside world, "Rose and Annette packed you a lunch so you won't get too hungry."

She nods, her hair flows around me and picking me up. I feel the huge mass of feathers, eyes, flesh, and teeth pull me into a ball in Taylor's arms. I look up at her face as she holds me. Dark tear tracks of red flow from her glowing white eyes. The soft touch of her arms holding me like a baby, contrast the sharp jagged lines of the black exoskeleton arms.

God she is hot, I think as I nestle deeper into her cold body. The gentle breath of cold mist puffing out of her mouth, feeling nice in the humid air. It's going to rain again soon... "Where is Nimi and Moth," I ask trying to get her to stop focusing on the ground.

The living jumps as the daughters bite into her soft pale flesh, but she soon relaxes and bites back to say hello. A short conversation under the heavy pile of bodies and fabrics comes to an agreement for time off and a rediscovering of new and old bodies...

"Moth is testing out something and Nimi is going out for a solo patrol," she says finally focusing on me instead of the dead body under the dirt. She pauses before carrying me to the door, "Moth is staying with you today while I'm out."

"Are you sure about coming out like this," I ask enjoying being carried part of this, her cool hands on my back nice through my thin pajamas.

"Yeah, I'm sure Sarah," she nods opening the door back to the kitchen, "I look too odd now to really hide anything anymore, and I'm rather tired of not going out. Nimi still wants that group date and I'm kind of looking forward to it too."

Feathers, exoskeletons, horns and new sets of arms are traced by the living girl at the center of dead flesh and tissue. Soft patterns of hands on naked flesh as the dead explore her living body as well. A brush here, a kiss there, a tongue trace, then a soft bite in a nice spot; as they explore each other from curious to heated to desperate...

"Me too," I reply, ignoring my blush at the name and remembering... well a few nights actually, "are you sure that you're going to be okay today?" She lays me down onto the couch, I can hear Danny and Rose talking upstairs.

"Yeah," she responds back distantly and with a spaced out tone, "what's the worst that could happen?"

I wince at Taylor as she absentmindedly invokes Murphy...


I make sure that my new school ID is showing as I walk past the terrified school guard. The smell of the student body around me as I make my way into Arcadia is strong, but unlike back at Winslow it isn't nauseating.

The swish of my hair against my dark pants helps distract me from the stares that I'm meeting with the eyes in my hair. I frown a bit at the sour, delicious, smell of fear coming off people as I walk by and down the hall to my new locker.

I can feel my insides click together as I approach the metal of this new locker as I remember the old one too well. So, what could it be behind door number one, I think as I stop before the steel box, emotional trauma or physical trauma?

The metal door slowly opens to reveal... nothing. I sigh out in relief, ignoring my breath freezing part of the metal. "That could have been bad," I say to myself looking up and examining my surroundings for the first time since I walked in.

Arcadia is a lot cleaner than Winslow, bigger too. With large windows on two sleek modern designed buildings with a hallway connecting the two like a big H. A four meter tall security wall of brick topped with barb wire and a huge iron bared gate, make it look like a disguised prison. The insides are however a little less prison like.

Clean floors smelling of pine, soft blue lockers lacking in racial slurs and gang tags painted across their surfaces, wood doors to classrooms and store rooms, not a single one missing. Yeah, this place is nice, smells nice, looks nice, even the other students look nicer.

Nice clothes in bright colors. The boys walking around without tattoos or gang colors. The girls looking pretty without using looking like they are using heavy drugs or are some gangster's arm candy. They are still pretty though which makes me uncomfortable. They are staying away from me for now, but that doesn't mean that I won't have to deal with them later.

I rub the inside of my hoodie with a flex of my ribs, enjoying the comfort of the soft black cotton. I don't feel like I really belong here. Among all the sharp lines of straight geometry, and normal looking kids. My body is full of organic lines and abnormal shapes, I don't look right here among the bright colors of the well-lit halls.

I place my books that I won't need for my first class, Algebra, into the locker. The click of my black exoskeleton covered hands as they hit some of the metal makes a few of the students watching me flinch, I force a few eyespots in my hair to stare at them until they get uncomfortable and leave. I try to keep my hair from floating around my head like a halo as I turn and head for class.

Back at Winslow, for that single day I was back, I could have gotten away with disguising my transformation after the Lung fight. Moth, back when she was Swarm, could just cling to my hair hiding my glowing white eyes and teeth with a bunch of micro-sized fingers.

The step of my sharp feet sounds like I'm walking with metal shoes, but really it is just my new body's bone boot like feet. The lithe black exoskeleton covering my feet and legs up to my thighs, is insectile with pale white joints and no toes. It looks like I'm wearing an armored sock, or some really thin shoes. Which I'm grateful for, shoes are really uncomfortable to wear now.

I can't hide anymore. My face after the endbringer fight is... different now. My eyes no longer glow a dull silver they are now a burning ring of white in pools of black. My mouth which was wide before now has a seam down my chin that connects to my autopsy scars, it all opens into a much larger mouth.

Then there is my body itself. The exoskeleton on my hands and feet could have been easily covered by gloves and shoes, but as soon as I got undressed for gym the gig would be up. My legs, arms, back, and stomach are all covered in the obsidian like crystal matrix of endbringer-like material. If you tried to punch me, it would be like punching a mountain compressed to the size of a brick. Not as dense as the folded space of endbringer matter, but it doesn't need to be right now.

Even if I did find some way to get out of gym and cover up my eye lights, there would still be the problem of my new height being seven feet and the black feathers filling out my hair and my voice sounding like buzzing paper and the constant drip of blood from my eyes and... I didn't want to do a bunch of micro fixes just to be caught out later, like at Winslow.

At least this is the last change to my body, I think as I walk into my first class for today, I've kind of gotten as far as my predicted form will go, no more changes from "growing up". My body is apparently all grown up.

The row of clean unmarred desks look odd, they are new and lack the distinct markings of Winslow's desks. Unfortunately, the class room isn't empty.

Twenty humans, living students look up from their desks, they smell afraid. How do you think I feel, I want to say as my guts twist with hunger at the sight of so little food. One of the down sides of eating a meal like an endbringer, is that no meal after it feels like enough but that doesn't stop you from wanting your meals to be like that. I go find a seat near the back.

The walk through the rows of filled seats is better than I thought it could have been. No one tries to trip me as I walk. No one throws a ball of pencil shavings at my head. My seat is not full of glue... I could handle all of that. The waiting for them to all turn on me, for me to have to defend myself... for me to wait to have the excuse to consume my way out. Is more torturous than just having this school turn out to be just as bad as Winslow.

I try to distract myself from my stomach, but I find my thoughts wandering.

The Simurgh was delicious...

Her hard crunchy exterior just getting harder the more we shredded across our "teeth". The sweet "blood" that she cried as we cracked open her core inside us and flooded her insides. The soft super foam of creamy folded space as we consumed her information, her damned <data> she was so desperate for. That she killed our child for...

"Miss Hebert?"

The voice breaks me from my thoughts on that bitch currently swirling around my collective ghost's digestive system. I apparently was growling because as I look up from my seat all of the class room is looking back at me. The teacher, a man with greying hair dressed in tweed, is staring back at me through my veil of hair. "Would you like to come up to the front and introduce yourself," he says softly, it lacks the insistence or the desperation of Mr. Gladly voice. He sounds like he actually gives a shit...

I look down at the desk, my claws have marred the previously undisturbed wood. "Yes," I buzz out with my messed up voice and move to stand. The class mates lean away from me as I make my way to the front. My eyes shifting and teeth spinning along my curls as I move to stand next to the teacher. I slowly look up to see the class from behind my hair that is covering my face. "Hi, I am Taylor."

Thank you for reading, also this story will probably be moving to NSFW as of the current polling, so I hope you all don't mind... Please give me feed back as it has been awhile since I've looked at this.
 
Chapter 50
So I forget how this goes for this story... do I causally just tell you where I've been for the past sixteen months? Well that's easy, writing Monjai, my second fic that is large like this one. That I'm not even close to finishing... Honestly Monjai is looking like it will be even bigger than this one will in the end. It is currently more fun than writing Rot... but, I want to try writing for both. No real schedule for that, just which ever I feel like when I have time. Today, or last week really, it was Rot, but I am also writing Monjai too, not far from completing the next chapter of that too.

Also it was extremely hard to write for characters that I haven't touched in a year, so I hope this is still in character, that the twelve consecutive hours it took to reread Rot was worth it. Also I hope it shows how I've improved...



School was...fine...

The final bell rings causing the humans in the room to start to pack up for the day. I sigh, cool breath fogging the warmer spring air, and start to do the same. I ignore the stares I get as I stand, my many silver eyes keeping watch of the other students of Arcadia.

I lock eyes with a few of them, sending shivers down their spine and them to quickly look away. I don't care really, I'm not here for them. The tasty meat surrounding me, trapped inside a box of concrete with me... I feel my hunger flip in my body. They are not trapped in here with me, I'm trapped in here with them...

I sigh again causing a small spike of fear in the people around me, making my body ache to be satisfied. I pick up my bag and shift my teeth around my hair a bit to be more teeth on the outside of my curtains, and more eyes to be in my hood, at least I don't have to 'physically' look at them. Spiritually, my ghost can even see the heat spots through the walls, another new thing from Simurgh.

I move my bag to hide under my thick drapes of black hair and feathers, and white shiny teeth. I glance, with my 'normal' eyes set in my skull, at frozen class room. I squeeze the leather straps of my bag, bone covered hands clicking with the pressure. Even the teacher has stopped to stare...

Still better than Winslow.

I quickly, but not quick enough to show just how slow humanity is to me now, move past the other students and make my way for the exit, the click of my exoskeleton covered feet sharp on the tiles. In the hall I get more stares, but people give me a wide berth which I'm thankful for really. The hunger has long lost its power over me after eating the endbringer in February. It never leaves me, but I also know that no one I am looking at will be enough to satisfy it either.

At least it's the weekend now, I smile a bit, it will be fun to have a break from the living, or at least the living that are strangers. Lisa, dad, and some random others are okay. Thoughts of my girlfriend and my others lift me a bit higher but stop to a point when I remember who is in my backyard.

I shake my head causing my feathers to make fluttery noises. No, don't think about... the child... You mourned her, buried her, and left an open invitation to come to us when her- I stumble a bit as the reality of her situation catches in my rotting brain -when her century is up.

I feel a hiccup in my throat despite not having the muscles for it, but I quickly recall where exactly I am. Don't let them see you weak, I remind myself, they'll try to hurt you if they see weakness and that will end poorly for them. I glace around at a few of the frozen teenagers openly staring at me.

A hiss from my throat is papery and wasp-like, not as strong as my cicada song, but it makes them visibly back away. I quickly move towards the exit and visibly relax as I am no longer in the closed space with the stink of humanity closing in from all sides. I move to rush down the steps and towards the high walled gates of Arcadia.

My first week back among the living was harder than I thought in some ways and easier than I hoped in others.

I still had no friends, but I also avoided everyone as much as possible. The excuse of eating with my mother during lunch working well for both of us, as it meant that I didn't have to find a bathroom to hide from people, and people didn't have to see what exactly I carry around in my Alexandria lunchbox. Most people are put off by my diet and I don't want it spread around that I eat rotting food and dead insects.

They haven't tried messing with me yet, but I'm not willing to give them ammunition. A kill order is the last thing my living family, and Lisa, needs, everyone else would be fine though. Not like anyone Rose hasn't invited in can find our house. It is fun watching the reporter breeze past Rose's shell (our house) though. The blank look of confusion as they stare at the sky next to our house or walk up to one of our neighbors instead is funny.

I smirk at the memory of mom Rose asking if she could hunt them. It was an idea to let the haunted house, black ooze skeleton thing that is my mom's other start accepting in 'intruders' as she calls acceptable prey. The fact that she can 'say' 'guest' and have it sound like family is impressive, still embarrassing that she sometimes calls dad 'resident'.

I feel my monotone flesh grow cold and grey spread across my face at some of what we've heard at night from my parent's room. Lisa's on-going commentary on various positions between the three... I had to fill her mouth with my hand to get her to stop, that is the only reason it has nothing to do with me wanting her to chew my-

honk! honk!

The sound of a car horn draws me out of my fantasies about just where Lisa's teeth have been recently and makes me look up to see a glossy black slime person hiding a skeleton and a very tasty looking blonde. I smile as Rose and Lisa start waving me to our beat-up station wagon. My smile fixes a bit as Lisa sends me a smug look; I stare for a bit, but she just starts wiggling her eyebrow. She is getting way too good at reading me, I think as my eyes narrow.

Well, better head over and kiss that grin off her face, I hurry to the car.

Or at least I would if somebody didn't step out from behind a bush inside the gate. "Hey Frankie," he shouts as I stop in front of him, "the Empire says hello dyke!"

I tense as he reaches for something, trying to widen my stance to block most of the other students from possible gunfire if he pulls out a machine gun.

I nearly laugh as he pulls out a knife instead. It's not even as long as my own claws...

He moves forward, but I'm already in front of him. His body so much slower, so much less than mine. I grab his hand, bone claws crushing down on it as I shiver at his snapping bones. It makes me imagine dragging my tongue across the breaks, licking up all the bruised cells and exposed marrow. I shouldn't be thinking that, but I really like it too.

Him screaming though sets me, and the rest of the populated school yard, off-kilter. I can see as many students run back in doors, leaving only about sixty students left. A few of the security guards are either talking on their radios or hesitating on coming over to make sure I don't eat him? I'm not gonna do that, right? I look down at the purpling bruised flesh in my grip, he is now dangling off of his wrist, the knife he was going to use is in two. The blade resting on the ground, and the handle is still in his mangled hand.

Oops? I shake my head a bit to try and think about what I did wrong here.

I take a closer look at the yard. The students are staring at me from every direction, the open air and the cross wind make it hard for me to smell the general mood, but I am not inadequate with their facial expressions. I can see a few of them huddled together holding friends that just couldn't look or were trying to get them to stop looking.

I look back down at the man who tried to stab me. He is done up in full E88 regalia, leather jacket sporting their symbols... distinct lack of tattoos, odd, maybe this is some kind of newbie? He has tears streaking down his face as he weakly tries to pull his hand from mine. My hunger is not here though, all I can feel right now is a bit confused. I broke his hand… why did I need to do that?

Everyone is shocked, or crying, or scared? He had a knife only though…

I glance up at Lisa from where she watches in our car, she looks concerned. Slowly though, she smiles, and I feel one grow on my own face at it. I drop the human easily, ignoring his whimpers as he curls into a ball. It really is a nice smile... I wonder if she still wants to go out tomorrow. She didn't seem thrilled at the idea of a wheelchair, so we are just going to have to carry her, but I hope she doesn't mind the lack of mobility we'll allow her.

I stop my musing as I spot a certain person float out of the crowd. Ah yes, another thing that I've been up to this week, avoiding Glory Girl. It is nothing particularly personal, we got over that fight a long time ago, but still, she's a living human that knows more about my eating habits... you know by being subject to it. Honestly it is embarrassing, sort of like an accidental kiss, and I'm nothing if not terrible at confronting these things.

As the blond finally hovers her way over the students, I can see Amy coming too. And there is the other person I'm avoiding... it hurts to look at the healer, and I have to give myself a few mental shakes to see that her face isn't wide mouthed, that her hair is not a darker brown, and that she doesn't look so much younger. That she's Amy not… the child.

I turn to them, ignoring how I step backwards a bit to stand over the ganger. My ghost rests its head onto my shoulder as I wait for them to speak.

"You've been avoiding me," Glory Girl starts, her arms crossed as she floats a meter above the ground.

"I have been busy," and I don't particularly want to talk either. Embarrassment way aside, talking to the living is exhausting... usually not worth it too. Everyone I do talk to is an outlier.

"Oh yeah," she tries to look down on me from her nose, but it has nothing on moms' glares. The crowd takes a backstep though...

"Vicky, your aura." Amy starts to walk towards me, her face grumpy, and I can see that she has not been living light. She looks tired, smells it too. "Hey... Frankie?"

I huff, "I'm an out cape Amy, you could shout my name to the rooftops, and it wouldn't make a difference." Secret identities cannot help the dead, they certainly can't help the undead either. "How's it going," I say softer, "you look exhausted?"

Amy flinches and I can see her sister stiffen midair. The fear must have been shrinking cause I can now see a few people with their phones out. "I-," I look back at the freckled girl, "I've been better." She sags a bit as if admitting that hurt. "Do you mind if I look at your Nazi there, shame if you got charged."

"I'm pretty sure that it will happen anyways." Legal stuff during my time undead has been shit as is, not as bad as the stuff from my life, but still very shitty. Lisa helps, but we both understand that it only hurts less when we are together. I step back and let the healer come closer. I try not to stare at her hair as she crouches down, but I can't help it. I smile as she both asks the E88 to stop bitching and knocks him out when he doesn't. I can see that Glory Girl is getting more and more irritated though.

I look back up at her with the eyes in my face and she straightens again. "Did you want to talk or something." I'm definitely going to have to talk to her now, despite my wants, we go to the same school. I'm lucky this didn't happen first day. Doesn't mean it has to be here though. "Maybe somewhere without the audience?"

Please say yes, or no and that you don't want to talk anymore. I'm not picky, I'll take either.

"I... guess," she looks back at the maybe sixty students behind her, "you on PHO?"

"A bit, I'll send you a message, Izzy will know your username."

"Okay," Amy starts as she stands up, "all fixed." I nod and start to turn for the car.

"Wait!" I turn back to 'look' at the hovering cape. "You can't just leave a crime scene, what about reporting it?"

I can see Lisa starting to get out of the car, but mom stops her and points back into the crowd. Oh, there's mom... She smiles big and toothy at me which I return after a bit, smiles are good, right? I can't be in too much trouble if mom's smiling...

"Miss Dallon." The cape's ears go pink for a second before spinning around to face mom.

"Mrs. Hebert!"

"How is that essay going, I know I gave you an extension because you picked a rather hard subject matter," she is all smiles as the cape lands at mom's feet.

"It's uh going..."

"I see, well I just wanted to remind you that it is due on Monday still, so you have all the weekend to work on it before you present."

"Aww... I was gonna go to the movies though..."

Mom's smile loses its sharp points as the cape that was just trying to act all big and serious deflates. "I'm sure if you spend your time well, you'll have plenty of time for both," she says causal before walking up to me and hugging me. "Hey little owl, how was school?"

"It was okay." My face is grey, and I try my hardest not to notice all of the eyes looking at me, kind of hard when you have hundreds. "Can we leave?" "I want to go home," I whisper gently balling her sweater in my claws.

"Of course, Taylor," she breaks from the hug and turns to the slowly retreating Amy. "Hello Amy," she says stopping the girl in her tracks, "you should come by for tea sometime, I'd love to chat about anything really, we get so few guests." Might have to do with the fact that Rose's shell is impossible to find unless she wants it to be, but hey if it keeps the arsonists out... Need to look into that...

"Uh sure, I'll ask my... parents." I feel my face soften at her reminder that she is already in a family. According to Lisa it is definitely an adoptive one too, but I'm not sure if that makes Nimi's list any less odd. Even I don't know exactly how she picks; cause I know for a fact that her list doesn't contain just every kid she's ever seen, she skips some for some reason. There is something, something that she's not sharing, and I'm not a big enough jerk to just dive into any of my other's private sections of memory.

My hunch though is its stress. Both Vista and Amy are on that list, and stress seemed to be almost dried to their skins. Like it was such a common thing that the hormones were sweat out that it just became a part of their smell.

Mom has an entirely different reaction to Amy's words though, her eyes narrow making Amy's heart beat a bit faster. "Do let them know that two on Saturdays are a great time to visit." Right just after lunch and the cleanup of said lunch, Rose would probably not like for a 'guest' to see what we eat. Not unless she was trying to scare somebody...

"I'll," I smell a bead of sweat form on the healer's back, "let them know." Mom nods, her lips pulled back into a very sharp smile.

"Okay, mom stop scaring Amy we got to go." Annette at least has the decency to flush a pale blue, but she still waves to her as we walk to the car. Lisa's grin is wide and smug, and Rose in the driver's seat is not far behind it.

"Oh, hello dear," Annette says before leaning down and kissing Rose, embarrassing me entirely as I quickly slide in next to Lisa. I quickly tune them out as Annette climbs into the car over Rose.

"Hey Lisa," I relax full once my head rests on her shoulder, just enjoying the break from people. "Where's the others?"

"Hey to you too," Lisa giggles as my hair traces her skin, her shaky hands slowly buckling herself up. Something she doesn't really need with me here, but I'm happy that she has got enough coordination and strength with her arms again. "Nimi and Moth decided that it wasn't fair that they got to have me all to themselves while you were at school," I snuggle closer to her listening to her heart and lungs as she speaks, "so they decided that you get to have some alone time with me too."

I smile into her neck at how sweet the thought was, even if I technically made it for myself. Good to know that all that time I spent self-loathing in life, has failed to follow me entirely into my death.

"And if what I saw of your schooling today, I'd say it is a bit more exciting than you wanted, huh." Lisa pets my hair even as I think about how much this week wasn't awful it just also wasn't good. "So, what happened with GG and Ames?"

"E88," I grunt, "thought a knife was enough to try hurting me, clearly he was sacrificial."

"Yeah probably... did you mean to crush his hand?"

"I didn't really think about it." Clearly, I'm out of practice, despite all of our team's threats of bodily harm it is not our goal. Lung was different of course, and if Hookwolf ever shows up we are not going to pull our punches, but I just broke every bone in a guy's hand after he pulled out a knife... That was overkill.

Lisa looks concerned, but she quickly grabs my hand. It is not lost on me that it is the one I just used to snap bones and break tendons. Makes me smile anyways, my teeth enjoying the way Lisa's heart feels on them. "I'll need to practice again, before I go out tonight." Wouldn't want to punch somebody and cave in their skull or something.

"Yeah, now what did the wonder kids want?"

"Glory Girl just wanted to talk, and I think Amy was trying to be nice," probably to keep her sister safe if we came to blows, "I told her that I'd set a time and place for a meet up... it hurt to see her." I watch the buildings fly by with a few of the eyes that aren't looking at my girlfriend.

"Amy?"

"Yeah, it was hard to look at somebody, that I've..."

"Imprinted on?"

I nod, images of the few people in that list between Nimi, Moth, and I come to mind. There is Nimi's list which is mostly kids, Vista, and Amy, then there is Moth's which includes people she watches in the park that feed the birds, a homeless kid who hangs out in the woods she feeds in, Officer Jones, and Armsmaster. Mine is Kurt, Lacey, Mrs. Knott oddly enough, and... the child, Emma. We all like them, most definitely would protect them, but they don't feel like what Moth and Nimi refer to as Pack. They don't run with us, but they are important.

Moms got similar ones too, mostly just people she met online, 'zombie hunters' I think they call themselves. I've never met them so I have no idea if it is something similar to them compared to mine, but I know that moms would probably hurt anybody that hurt them. Death has made her much more violent... and they're two of her.

Lisa hugs me closer, and I quickly climb on top of her. "I'm sorry that everything is so painful right now," Lisa kisses me, "but we are going on a date this weekend. Just me, you, you, and you, boardwalk, dinner, maybe some mischief?" She wiggles her eyebrows at me, and I smile, my mouth opening down to my clavicles, before wrapping my split lower jaw over hers. My tongue licks at her throat as I suction up to it. I purr as I can feel her own tongue rub up on the back of my sharp teeth, I quickly reach up with mine to explore her back.

When Lisa starts to speak into the hollow space of my mouth, I unseal from her. Enjoying the shiver, she gives when my cold breath flows across her, her eyes dilated out in such an appealing manner. God, she makes me hungry... "That was," she shakes her head, "new." Yeah, we haven't kissed with my real mouth like that. I mostly use it to bite her, I can mark up her whole back with it open like that.

"I wanted to try something different... I-it wasn't bad, was it?" Did she not like it?

"Not sure... do it again."

The car ride was far too quick in my opinion...



Welp, please tell me what you think, assuming anybody will read this after so long... Also if you like, you could read Monjai, its HP and in NSFW so if that's not your cup of tea don't bother, I ain't forcen' ya.
 
Art: Taylor
So I know this isn't a new chapter, sorry, mind wanted to work on HP instead, but it also wanted to draw Taylor. So here is Taylor, I've come a long way in my digital art since I started maybe a year ago. Hope you enjoy!

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