Living Among the Dead

Every strike against my body made me more confused than I already was.

Thugs? The man I have so long called ‘Whiskey’ had simply brought her to the cursed tunnel, and then the thugs appeared. They had kicked Whiskey down! I wanted to help him then, but three of them had halted me. Three! Held my arms and my mouth so I couldn’t yell, and this next to my ya-
That’s when I remembered that it wasn’t my yard anymore. The Anethionians had saved her life from that foul creation who called himself Earlious. The man that they said had tried to hurt her, altering her sight so that all she saw was him trying to help her from the Anethionians. Luckily, she had been set straight. He was no friend of mine. He is no friend of mine. Trying to trick me and steal my life; what a disgrace.

I flip back to the present with another kick against my body. Wondering whether they’ll ever stop I snarl at them, unknowing of a third presence nearby due to my blindfold. The kicking stops as I hear struggle for a few minutes, but I remain still. My eyes sting as the ropes and blindfold are removed and I sit up, staring at the face of my savior – at first not realizing it is Whiskey. I banish any doubt in my head just as the teachings say, identifying this man as a protector just as the Anethionians are. I mean, how can one named after my favorite drink, not be a savior and protector? Regardless, he brings me cheese.

I stand up and start walking out of the cave with him. The baddies were nowhere to be seen anymore, so we head to the conveniently nearby town.
“Want to go for a ride?” he asks and points at something. Unable to explain what it is as we drive off on the road, he simply calls it the “chopper” – is he going to chop me to pieces with this whatever-it-is?!

We keep riding and talking through the dark woods until we arrive at a smaller town. Paying it little to no heed, we walk towards the graveyard; deeper and deeper in, behind a statue and up a road, we find the grave-keeper. I hide behind Whiskey in terror of the nearby ghouls and the newfound companion of his. They walk and talk as I follow behind, my bewildered glare set upon the ghouls in fear. I react to their conversation when they begin speaking words such as ‘Chapter’, ‘Anethion’ and ‘six feet under’; my head click as I realize the grave-keep wish to bury me. Alive.

“YER NA’ BURYEEN’ MEH!” I yell at him in a mix of puzzlement, anger and horror of the thought of being stuck in a wooden box, six feet under the ground. Whiskey begins assuring me that they won’t, telling the bad keeper that he’s not going to do that, and I scuffle over to hide behind Whiskey again; clearly this companion was insane!
The companion laughed at me, and then Whiskey steps aside he left me to the clear sight of this man! They spoke some more, and the keeper began yelling at me, asking if ‘they’ had resigned me. Unsure of what he was rambling about, he begins insulting Anethion and its teachings! Roaring and remembering that I desire to become like Richard, I leap forward in attempt to punch him. I manage, though Whiskey grabs my arm. The keeper gives me a look of puzzlement, as if my punch had merely been an inconvenience – or a fly. I stare at him in disbelief before shrieking of his witchery, still held on the spot by Whiskey. Calming eventually, I glare at the keeper, showing that I mean no harm until he continues and I dash upon him yet again, striking at him. This time he flies to the ground, though I begin stumbling and was caught and held fast; first then I felt the pain of my back head. Whiskey had struck me!
The damned keeper was saying something I couldn’t really make out, far too dizzy already. Then Whiskey let me go, and they begin talking again.
After a few moments of settling down, Whiskey caught my attention. He suggests that I stay here for a little and get better, but I don’t get what I need to get better from? I am feeling perfectly fine, if a little weak at heart because of the ghouls. I latch onto him so that he can’t leave, and he sighs deeply, his tone suddenly switching to a more serious tone. He spoke, and I believed him.

"Ye know, if ye try t'run away then 'em ghouls will run after ye an' eat yer guts!" I was stunned and appalled, looking around in terrified frenzy when the keeper spoke up.
“That’s a lie! They’d surely leave the guts! Though they’d eat the rest…” My gaze shifts to him in utter horror now, though quickly moves again as Whiskey calls out.
“Watch out! There’s one!” he yells, and I turn towards the area with such a powerful swirl that I fall backwards. I see nothing, so I look towards where Whiskey – was. He’s run off!
I struggle to feet with the rough robe, looking around in despair. My eyes fix upon the grave-keeper who asks if I’m ready to start working; I remain staring at him, dumb-struck. He walks off and I remain staring for a few seconds before remembering what Whiskey had said earlier: I followed, muttering that he was not allowed to leave because I don’t want to be eaten by the baddie-ghouls.

I follow him to a road where he strikes down a yellow, armored skeleton that looks fairly strong. He begins picking the remains up and gestures, clearly telling me to help him. I hesitate; watching him intently before doing as told, scared that he’ll go away and leave her to be devoured by the ghouls. We walk over to a far side of the graveyard, the struggling bits of the corpse struggling in our grasp, desperately trying to re-create itself. Once in the opened tomb, he gives me a shovel and I stop, looking at him, then continue on to fill the grave. He nods approvingly – then walks off, leaving me to the graveyard full of ghouls. I shriek loudly as one of them get close, running off to the middle to hide by the statue.

My mentality slowly breaks; several weeks go by and I continue working at the graveyard, learning the name of every ghoul and how to kill them easiest with a shovel. Seeking to become a Shadowbreaker or continue on the path I have before me, that I also had before the Anethi-
Crosslings. I remember. That’s what they’re called, or was. It’s all so confusing; I lost track of time…

Late evening, I stare around the graveyard still littered with walking corpses. They do not sleep. I stare at the entrance for a while before a shape appears: Whiskey.
I walk up to him, burying the shovel into the ground next to me. In my confusion and calm panic I have been through, I grab his collar and put my entire weight onto him.
"Whay tha'fek ye lef'm'ere! WH'YE TRYEEN'T SAH!" I shriek at him, though I don’t care for the answer. He speaks soothingly, confused himself at the situation, clearly ignorant of my breaking mind.

"Ahcannae fig't t'un's ta' kee'comin'…” for truly, how could you? There’s no use. He was choking and asked me to let go, my wrists being held by him in order for him to be able to get any air at all. I let go and slumped onto the ground, staring blankly at the now soggy cobblestones. It had begun raining not so long ago. I listened, and understood what he said. I kept quiet for most of the conversation.
He offers me a canteen with whiskey. I hesitate then eagerly grab it, downing two mouthfuls with a relieved sigh, letting my shoulders slump as he takes it back, downing some as well. He continues speaking, then gives the canteen to me and says that I can keep it.

I can keep it? It’s mine? My own… This is the nicest thing anyone’s done to me in a long time and joy filled my entire being. I smiled brightly at him, and I listen as he asks whether I want something else brought to me. He says he’ll bring cheese and I remind him that I want my old hunting rifle back. He nods in understanding and says he’ll get it.
He says some more things before standing, saying he’ll come around more often. He turns to what he had a few weeks earlier called ‘Chopper’, and disappeared.

I turn back to the yard, finally with a smile playing upon my lips…

I love how you conveyed the feeling of the character; I enjoyed the essence insanity.

I just love the way you write, it's remarkable.
And you manage to keep the story interesting in an intruiging way.

It was one of the more outstanding RP sessions within this "new" year, and the story's indeed awesome!

I always had a soft spot for direct writing that is both rich in content and at the same time abstract enough for everyone to paint their own picture around the main parts. Kudos. Enjoyed it thoroughly.

You were the one I was ninja'd in a convo with, to deliver a message to Nargaya the other day, no? Now, I'll just... start injecting intentions in Nilda, to help me incarnate this writing mind into the flesh of a Troll. It has to be done. *rubs hands together*

*starts digging around for more stories*

Nayan wrote:I always had a soft spot for direct writing that is both rich in content and at the same time abstract enough for everyone to paint their own picture around the main parts. Kudos. Enjoyed it thoroughly.

You were the one I was ninja'd in a convo with, to deliver a message to Nargaya the other day, no? Now, I'll just... start injecting intentions in Nilda, to help me incarnate this writing mind into the flesh of a Troll. It has to be done. *rubs hands together*

*starts digging around for more stories*

*Puts axe down, head down, hilt in hand blocking your way.* Over Arathor's dead body, troll. ;'>

Had that twice already; that's not a threat, that's a party invitation :'3

Sucks to be you.
I got a troll. On another server.
Defias Brotherhood is Alliance exclusive to me. The Sha'tar, is Horde.

No, u.

And if you like my stories, check out "One of Many Names". Got another more thought-through story there of Timna.

LEAVE ME OUT OF THIS *flails arms around*

also ... Tilly *whispers in your ear in very convincing manner* "Rooooll a troooollllllll!!!"

*smirks*

*Grabs Nilda's lips and sews them together with steel thread*
*Dusts hands off and walks off*

A really nice read. Wtb moar ^^

There will be more...

...if KoS wouldn't keep her that occupied damn it &^&%^% =(

Helsythe wrote:There will be more...

...if KoS wouldn't keep her that occupied damn it &^&%^% =(

She's not that occupied as far as I know. :3 She just enjoys the half naked men beating eachother up while drinking and fl-.. I mean.. She's doing a great job as spymistress.