Welcome to Gaia! ::

The second the flames had touched the red ribbon previously belonging to poor drowned Abeline Froust, the omniscient voice was aware. Raising a slim eyebrow at herself, it was the only outward sign that anything was remotely wrong. She simply turned, scribbled a message, and left it where it would no doubt be picked up by the proper authorities. A warning was a warning, after all.

They'd have to wait, for the right moment. For the right situation. And for the right monster. This had been meticulously planned, down to the very last detail. There were so many dark corners of Barren Pines College, carefully herding the fuchsia-haired teen into one would be no problem. All it took was a simple mental suggestion, a fogging of the mind.

Viridiana Lombardi may have thought she was walking back for the dorm buildings. But in reality, she was slowly heading her way behind the English building, one of the least visited after-hours. The teachers never hung around, and most of the writers could be found typing away in their dorms or happily ensconced in the massive library. Eyes clearing, wrist tingling, when her sight revealed to her where she truly was, all the girl could do was stare in horror.

For there, standing under the tree, was Abeline Froust. Not the same girl that she had seen on the camera, no indeed. This body was pale, still somewhat bloated with water, and dead for a few days. The red ribbon was missing from her hair, and ever so slowly droplets slid from the dying strands into the grass at her feet. As her chest rose and fell, a sick wet sound could be heard, for of course her lungs were absolutely saturated with water. There was little doubt that this was the drowned corpse of the unfortunate ballerina.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a zombie in possession of brains must be in want of more brains.

Droplets of water dribbled down the body's extremities like moisture on the outisde of a chilled glass coca-cola bottle. Only cracking open this creature's neck would not reveal a wonderland of icy caffeine and
absolute refreshment. In fact, cracking open the purple-ish blue skined creature would not reveal much more than a rotting that had started in the lungs and worked its way through some of the decaying soft tissue. After all, this corpse had been in the ground for a day or so now. And after all; shouldn't it have dried up by now? But these thoughts did not do well to be dwelt upon as the creature under the tree raised its waterlogged head.

They're animals, man, animals! How could they cut the power?
In death, the eye begins to loose its focus, and the pupil literally disinegrates. This is how we get the milky-white 'dawn of the dead' impression when you peel open grandma's eyes in the coffin because you're convinced that she's just joking. Mental scars of childhood aside, the gaze that locked stares with Viridiana now had a distinctively... animalistic look to it. Like there was not much of a person
or a conscienciousness home. The wheel was turning but the hamster was dead. A few feathers short of a whole duck. And maybe a taco shy of a combination plate.

Drip. Drip. Drip.Her legs began to move, painfully, slowly, stepping toward Viridiana. Each movement deliberate, slow at first, as though the lights up top were still fixing bugs on how to move applications. And then, after that slow first step; the second seemed a little faster, a little less hessitant. Perhaps all she wanted was a hug. In fact, her arms rose away from her body, outstretched toward Viridiana's chest brains.

Abeline Froust drooled a little as she groaned. A hug. Definitely. And she wouldn't smell your spicy brains at all.

Poor Viridiana was not having a good day it seemed. Not only had she seemingly lost her mind, but she was probably going to loose her brains as well. After all, the sweet juicey, succulent headice was prized amongst the scourge of the living, that is, Le Undead. Perhaps the waterlogged ballerina would be using Viridiana's brains for some sort of vaguely disturbing outfit, or perhaps the zombie would simply eat her brains.

As though it felt no fear at the sight of the zippo lighter- what was Viridiana, a pyromaniac or something?- for the living dead do not fear.... most things, Abeline shambled forward, another guttural sound issuing from her swollen white lips, sounding suspiciously like....

"Braaaainnnnssss...." Although it could have been the moan of the wind, the touch of the tree branches in the breeze. Or a hideous, brain eating corpse coming at her, that Viridiana seemed ill-prepared to deal with.

If only she had of read that survival guide, which, must have seemed like a bad joke at the time, but now probably seemed pretty ironic.

Fingers and arms stretched at Miss Lombardi, reaching as though to gently caress the girl's face--- or claw her flesh off and eat her. But probably just a gentle caress. After all, zombies didn't kill people.... there were no survivors to say otherwise too.

Yummy brains, beloved headice....

Abeline Z- the latest diet for the no-longer living- stepped on the silly little ribbon, strangely enough, she seemed unconcerned with taming her wet, dribbling hair (or her mouth for that matter) and continued forward. Her pace seemed to have woken up a little- and like a hound on the scent of delicious, lightly insane brains, the creature that Froust had become followed Viridiana Lombardi like a hound on a scent. Only a slow hound, on a desire for human bits.

Shuffling became a walk, became a faster walk, and the thing that should not be moved around the corner, following Diana like.... a boyfriend who just wouldn't get the message no matter how many times you txted him that it was over, and he still wanted you to send him the latest pictures of you at the party from last weekend, only you found that a little creepy of him, because you didn't tell him- oh look, a wall.

Leaning against the wall for a moment, the creature's gaze swept Miss Lombardi from head to toe. Mostly the head, not so much the toes. In a living person, Viridiana might have accused her would-be-eater of checking her out. But Abeline's pallid flesh and soaked clothing didn't speak of a date.

drip. drip. drip the water from her hair just kept coming. And so too, did it. A blackened tongue swept over its lips. Not so much alluring, as creepy.

When confronted with pain, the undead usually.... moan and drool a bit? Well, that seemed to be the reaction as the brick connected with the side of Abeline's face, that was her immediate reaction. skin, and a dislocated jaw.

The creature grunted and staggered forward as though enraged; or something worse.

Pretty much unfazed. Hands reached for Viridiana; clamy, cold, moist hands. Like a small child reaching for candy, only the candy was on the inside of a breathing, living wrapper, and Lombardi might object to being 'unwrapped.'

A zombie at hand is worth... running away from even in the bush.

Viridiana's desperate, vaguely worrying flailing of the branch smacked the Zombeline in the head, knocking the drowned-victim's corpse into the wall. And dislodging an ear in the proccess. But, like most of the undead... well some undead.... well, undead in general, pain did not phase those who.... ate on the flesh of the living? yeah, that sounded about right.

Pain was not something that would slow Zombeline down, not stop her, nor give her cramps when the moon rose high in the sky and wolves howled in the distant trees of the mountains. No, pain meant nothing to those who had already died a thousand deaths- or once, as the case at hand was- and while Zombeline's feelings were greatly hurt, since all she wanted was to eat the brains (and other tasty organs) of the girl running away from her- and zombies had to eat too, y'know- and she was met with open fear AND rejection- she might have been angry. Except with the whole 'living dead' deal, and the lack of high-brain functions, Abeline Froust didn't feel much of anything.

The branch took the ear and a hunk of flesh from Zombeline's neck, but with a hissing grunt, the worst thing for Viridiana happened. Abeline Froust's body began to chase her. That is, it shambled and stumbled, sprinting after its delicious tasty meal.

Still dripping scourge-of-the-living was catching up. Zombeline's arm reached forward, wet fingers grabbing for Viridiana's arm.

She would not die, the fires would not burn out today. She would not die, the fires would not burn out today. She would not die, the fires would not burn out today. She would not die, the fires would not burn out today.

The fires would not burn out.

WOULD NOT BURN OUT.

Viridiana kept moving backwards, but it didn't seem to be enough. The abomination had grabbed onto her arm anyway, and while the fuschia-haired teenager attempted to wrangle her arm away, it was too little too late and the teeth sank in, tearing flesh away from bone. She watched in wide-eyed terror as the flesh was gone and consumed by the abomination that would not die, but needed to be condemned back into the Room Sea. Condemned forever. Into ashes she should have been and into ashes she would be.

The sounds were sickening, the death was quickening, she could feel the fires draining out from her veins. The fires, the fires, the fires, the fires, the fires they slipped away into the abyss that was the cold and clammy seas that washed beneath their feet where no one could hear them, no one could help them, no one could hear her shout NO and perhaps it was destined to be that way because life wasn't fair to the wicked and she was certainly a wicked one but it was more wicked, more wicked, more deserving of a second death than Viridiana was deserving of a first one because accidents happened once in a while, once in a while, even if they were fatal accidents at the expense of others.

Her head was sinking but she would not go like this. Would not let it have the pleasure of seeing her like this. The abomination could tear flesh from her bones but she would live on, the fires would live on, the fires would burn forever and ever and always from within and without and perhaps it would be a kill from the grave as it were but Viridiana was not going to go out just sitting and letting herself become food for the wicked abominations of the Room Sea of the frozen ninth layer of hell of death and unfeeling.

Zippo lighter, meet Zombeline's face.

Zombeline may have felt no pain, but Viridiana would not give her the pleasure of getting out scot-free. Shaky hand into pocket as blood loss sinking fire loss losing life loss no, no, no, no, no on goes the fire, it would end this way, with both of them if she had to die this abomination was sooner or later gonna come down with her into the pits of hell where they both belonged, the Frost Queen and the manipulator of words and people and minds they both belonged there and Viridiana would send her there with her last breath.

As her body gave out, Viridiana thrust the Zippo lighter forward into her zombie captor's chest, not caring if it didn't affect her yet. All flesh burned and hers would too. And so would Viridiana's. Her flesh would burn. And Zombeline would never get the pleasure of consuming her entire body, not if she had...

any...

...con... trol.