Tuesday, January 7, 2014
Dead Rite chapter 164
She was surprisingly lucid, for one of the walking dead. She knew it, too. Knew she was dead, I mean. I could almost feel sorry for her. It wasn't her fault, after all. She was the victim of an corporation experiment, a macabre interleaving of magic and technology. All she wanted to do was smoke a little cannabis while here four year old ADHD son screamed at the cartoons on the television two rooms away. Five minutes out of a single parenting nightmare.
She wasn't to know the weed was grown on a planar rift, where the dead were ever-hungry, desperate to return to the only existence they'd felt any peace. She didn't know her spirit would detach from her body, leaving it available to be possessed by the demons Legion had left behind on the shores of the Galilean sea. She wasn't aware of the horrors awaiting her spirit as it was chained to the will of the corporation, doomed to power a golem for eternity.
I could save her from all that. A little pain – no more than a pinch, really – and it would all be over. All the horror, all the anguish, all the craving for a life already ended. “Come with me,” I told her. “It's time.”
She nodded, trying to form words but unable to mover her rotting tongue. A finger, pointing toward the living room, toward her son.
“Better not.” I shook my head as I raised the scythe.