A change of pace… Hey, read the following four posts before reading this one, and it'll make more sense, okay? Yeah, FOUR fucking posts. Lots to be said. Thanks.
THE GREAT GREYHELM ZOO
Three figures stood shivering in the night air before the massive gate.
“My feet hurt” said Jerry, to no one in particular.
Barney looked over at the gnome and rolled his eyes. “Then git yerself some new boots there fella.”
The gnome shot back sharply “Actually, what I’d like to ‘git’ is the plan. What are we doing here, and what does it have to do with me CASTING SPELLS again? This place stinks like, well, like that jail you freed me from.”
The young lad shushed him, looking up from the Dragonlance novel he was about half-way through, and said “Shut up Apprentice. We’ve got one more hour until the guard changes. Then we can implement My Father’s Plan. You’ll see once we ‘git’ inside. Now stay quiet, and be on the lookout for that tall guy with the halberd.”
…
A quiet hush fell over the woods. Not a creature stirred. Mike the zombie looked up from his resting spot, alerted by the sudden quiet hush falling over the woods. “Uh oh” he said to the dead girl’s head in his lap. He made a zombie. “You’ll be safe in Grito with the others” he said, shaking the zombie’s hand, giving it a couple coins for the road, and wishing it well. He then laid back to await whatever was coming.
Two women approached. One woman, clearly freaked out of her mind, trailed behind the commanding presence of the other woman, whose face was covered in a black veil. The veiled one approached the zombie, and lifting her veil, revealed what lay beneath. Mike said “Oh shit.”
“Zombie who was once known as Mike the Nine Fingered, who once walked these paths in life, who now lives in the shadow realm between Elysium and The Abyss. Hear my command. Your companions, where are they going?”
“Uh, to this weather station place.”
“You will take this disk of bone so that we may follow and exact our revenge on those who hurt us. Your death will come quickly at the end. You will not speak a word of this, nor show them the disk of bone. Your treachery will be repaid with the dust of your flesh.”
The two women then moved back into the dark woods.
“Aw shit” said Mike, hanging his head in fear and shame. “Sorry guys. Don’t I get a save?” he asked into the night where the women once were.
Slowly, the forest voices began to creep back. Mike made a few more zombies to keep him company, and then sent them north like all the others. He curled up and hoped his friends would never find him.
