death heals

[Decimas]

Not much light shon through Karador late at night when people slept, not much more than the torches that lit the city streets. Some places were still lit though, some buildings never slept. Decimas walked through the city alone, unguarded by his armies of lifeless cohorts as he came up to the hospital doors, looking in to the well lit facility. Not seeing anyone in the lobby, He pushed the doors open and stepped in from the rain that had been falling all night. Decimas looked back to the doors as they swung shut, and watched as a couple rotten crows flew past the windows, water splashing off their decaying beaks.

Turning back to face the inside of the hospital entrance hall, Decimas reached up with one hand to drop down the hood of his well soaked black cloak as he let out a sigh of comfort, being then, in from the cold rain. Even through his hood, hid hair and face were dampened from the wet cloak that had sat upon his head. Walking around through the buiding, Decimas peered around every corner, looking for any people who would inevitably be there. He knew the hospital was full at the time, he had made arangements on an earlier night with one of the citys water supplies to make sure of it.

Hearing coughing from down one hall, Decimas followed his ears, so to say, and walked in the direction of the obvious illness. As he walked about, he saw an orderly walk down the hall that crossed the one he was in. “Excuse me,” he said loudly, trying to get the womans attention, “Mam.” She had past the crossing of the two halls, but stepped back a couple paces to look over at Decimas.

“Oh,” she said in a friendly voice as she tried to smile warmly at him, despite the stress of all the patients that weighed heavily on every member of the hospital staff, as they all were working extra shifts and rushing to take proper care. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to be coming in the front door this late at night,” she halfway chuckled to herself as really the only thing to do under such a pressured circumstance as the one the hospital was in. “I’m sorry, but visiting hrs are over, and unless you have a serious condition, we really cant afford to help you right now.”

“Oh,” He said quietly, then hesitated as he bowed his head slightly, looking rather thoughtful. “It’s just that,” he continued, looking up at her as he paused for a second, taking in a breath, “I just found out that a good friend of mine was brought here, and was wondering if I could maybe go in and pray for him, maybe for any others that have fallen ill as well.” All the while, the necromancer kept a sorry looking expression on his face, pulling off quite well the act of a sad and worried man.

The orderly paused and looked at him as she thought for a few moments, all the while, Decimas stayed quiet, knowing it best to let her think on his mournfull face and let her missplaced compassion guide her heart into showing him the way to his figurative promised land. “Well,” she said, still a pensive look on her face, “I imagine we can use all the help we can get in here right now, and wether or not I believe in gods will in faith healing, I’d rather take the side of hope.” She smiled at him and reached out her hand, singing to him to go with her as she nudged her head in the direction she had come from. “I’m sure your friend and everyone else in there, not to mention the staff her, would apreciate a little help from on high, and a man thoughtful enough to try, is too much to turn down.”

Decimas smiled, warmly, as it seemed to be, to the orderly as he moved towards her. Looking at her name tag as he got closer, Decimas noted to himself that her name was Sarah. He nodded in an acting show of apreciation to her as he came up beside the woman, and followed her as she showed him the way down the hall to a very large room full of atleast sixty people laying sick in bed. “Wow.” He said quietly as he looked in the room, “I heard this was bad, but seeing this many people in here is something of a slap in the face huh?” he then stood quiet, looking all heart sunken as the orderly looked up at him.

“It is rather wakening, isn’t it?” she replied, and paused. “Theres the two rooms on either side of this one filled just as full too.” She took a breath in as she herself went quiet thinking of the mass amount of sick people. “I can’t believe we actually had to use the cafeteria and lay patients on the tables just for bed space, but the other rooms just arent big enough to care for such a thing.” She paused again as Decimas still remained silent. “Well,” she continued, “Your friend should be somewhere in these three rooms.” She motioned her hands to the area of that one wing, though it was easily over half the hospital. “Your welcome to look and find your friend.”

“Thankyou Sarah.” He said as he bowed his head to her before pushing the doors open and stepping through. As he walked through the large room of bedridden poisen victims, Decimas made sure to look as though he was searching, looking at each patients face. A few minutes later, he stopped at one bed, pretending to know the man sleeping in it, and kneeled down at his side.

Sarah and another orderly that had come up to the doorway stood in the entrance to the room and watched, listened as he started to speak, pray, as they thought, for the ill in the ward. Sarah had spoken quietly, telling the other woman what Decimas was doing, and they both smiled softly as they looked across the vast spread of full hospital beds.

“Vires totus peius cado letaliter sic , vires totus infirmus nunc intereo de is. Vires vita solvo suus habitum in lemma ut nex vires prene suus toll. Sino spiritus labor lapsus ex lemma , ut ego vires tribuo lemma vita in nex. sic hic ego iacio meus directus mos ut totus illud hic is nox noctis vires cado ex vita quod orior oriri ortus iterum ut poenanon virs de stipes excessum.” Decimas kept his head bowed the whole time he spoke these words, and he spoke them ina prayerfull tome at that, not that it mattered how he said what he said, or the exact words he spoke, for that matter. He hadnt had to say it all in so many words, but felt like putting on a show.

He stood and started to slowly walk back towards the door, and as he did, every man woman and child in the ward woke and started to cough harshly and wreathe in pain. A shocked look came to both the womens faces, and they each rushed to a bed to take a closer look at the patients. “What did you pray?” the second orderly asked, in a furiously worried shock.

“May all the ill fall mortally so, may all the sick soon die of it.” He replied, not hesitating at all. “May life release its hold on them, that death may take its toll.” He reached up over his shoulders with his right hand and lifted his still drenched hood back over his head as more shadow than should have been cast, covered his face in complete darkness under the cape of his black cloaks hood. “Allow the breath to slip from them, that i may give them life in death.” He continued, as he walked right between the two orderlies, both of them in complete and uder shock. “So here i lay my dire will, so that all those here this night, may fall from life and rise again, as painless men of after death.”

The two women, still locked in their blank and dismal stare, completely shocked at the necromancer they couldn’t have expected, simply watched in shock as he didn’t bat an eye, but rather smiled, as he pushed the doors open again and walked out into the halls.

[Cella]

Cella had just returned from her outing in the forest to the north of the Kingdome, a two day trip, her pouch filled with the herbs and fungus needed to save those in her hospital, and as she stepped in through the doors of the hospital from the pouring rain outside, her dark, lavender cloak soaked through to her traveling attire and she stopped, a sudden sick feeling settling in her stomach, almost as if she knew there was something not right in the land of the living, or, half living as it were.

The lavender eyes that settled on her pale, and more then exhausted face narrowed and she stopped, her feet refusing to move for a moment before she heard it, it seemed to echo through her mind like some raging fire that had been set there as to why she heard, she didn’t know, but his words seemed to come to her as if he had spoken them straight in her very own mind. Vires totus peius cado letaliter sic , vires totus infirmus nunc intereo de is. Vires vita solvo suus habitum in lemma ut nex vires prene suus toll. Sino spiritus labor lapsus ex lemma, ut ego vires tribuo lemma vita in nex. sic hic ego iacio meus directus mos ut totus illud hic is nox noctis vires cado ex vita quod orior oriri ortus iterum ut poenanon virs de stipes excessumThe pictures of a man bowing his head and talking to the sick, his words being heard by them all, felt by them all.. And now, the sack that had been clutched in her right hand so carefully now slid to the floor falling with a silent, thud, its contents spilling out over the scrubbed surface, useless, she knew. Useless as they were all dying, she didn’t even have to go in there to realize, to see… they would, each of those patients she had worked so hard to save, had spent hours upon hours on research, had finally came up with a solution only to have them all taken from her.

Suddenly, this quiet, small being seemed to throw aside her exhausted form to be replaced with a hatred the likes of which had never before been seen in the quiet, loving child as she remained standing in the doorway, shaking now with anger, awaiting the Necromancer to show himself, her tiny fists clenched at her sides and the tears of pain freely running down her cheeks to slide off and be added to the moistness of her rain soaked attire, her lavender eyes, unbeknownst to her, flashing with a brilliance that lit the entire entrance of the hospital an eerie purple haze.

Where most would have ran in and began to do what they could in a futile attempt to save who they could from his enchantment, Cella seemed to understand that it was just that, futile, there was nothing she would be able to do now to save them, nothing. She would have to watch, helplessly, as each one died, one by one, or all at once. Her mind suddenly began to flip through more pictures. Mr. Johnson, father of five dying now, or perhaps dead already, Cassy, mother of 2, wife of a simple farmer, dying, dead, Trinity, 3 year-old child of MR. Gates… Faces swam before her and one by one, she knew as they passed, so did their souls now to be used as toys for HIS amusement.

A low growl now emanated from her own throat, one she didn’t even notice as she waited, her hands tightening into fists so tightly that her own nails split her flesh, causing small droplets of blood to fall to the slick floor and mingle with the fungus and herbs laying about her feet as she continued to wait for the one responsible for all these good, honest people’s deaths, people who had been about to be freed from this horrible illness, who, in what would have been a matter of a few more hours, would have been waking to find themselves able to breath proper again, their fevers gone… And were now, dead.

[Decimas]

The pain filled cries and sighs of the masses soon became moans and groans as Decimas walked casually down the hospital halls on his way back to the front door while those two mortified orderlies went from shock to panic and everywhere in between. “Never doubt the power of prayer, Sarah.” The necromancer yelled back to the orderly over his shoulder as he continued walking. “For when it comes to life and death,” he continued, turning his head forward to look where he was going as he turned the corner with a smile, “I am your god.”

As Decimas neared the lobby he felt a presence around the corner, one of great powers unbound by any creed. The thought of turning tail to run never even crossing his stubborn mind, Decimas drew his sword from under his cloak, and with both hands on the hilt, he swung it in a full circle along his right side before raising it above his shoulders into a striking position, blade pointed forward just as he came to where the hallway met the lobby. From the front entrance, the tip of the blade would have been seen as it swung in that vertical circle, just before the necromancer came striding confidently around the corner.

A somewhat perplexed look wouldhave been seen on his face as he hesitated a half a second, almost taken aback by the unexpected sight of the frustrated girl standing furiously crying in the doorway, had it not been for the overabundant shadow that covered his face under the hood of his cloak. As Decimas saw the tears running down the girls cheek, and the spilled bag of herbs laying fallen on the floor, He considered that she seemed not to be so confident of her strength, obviously meaning she didn’t know, and so, taking advantage of her ignorence, he continued to walk towards her, his sword swaying back down to his right side, held then only in one hand as he neared her.

“Im in a good mood.” He said with an eerie grin as he looked her in the eyes, watching the fury well tear upon tear in her out of her sweet little eyes. “I don’t suggest you change that, little girl.” Once he came within just a few feet of her on his way to the door, Decimas thought to tease a bit. “Youre kinda clumsy, arent you?” he said, glancing down for a brief moment at the bag she had dropped, and then with a smirk, he grabbed the hilt of his sword once more with both hands and rose the blade to her chest as he past along side her, and stopped in his tracks. The sword never touched her skin, but its edges did cut a line on her shirt as he took a breath in and turned his head to look back at her. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said casually, with slight humor in his voice, “you’re crying, arent you?”

Taking his left hand off the hilt of his sword, Decimas softly stroked the girls right cheek with the side of his fingers. “Is it because of me?” he asked in a pittiful, yet laughing tone, “Was it something I said?”

[Cella]

She saw it before he even came into the entrance hall; the flash of the blade, reflecting an almost eerie purple glint out of the corner of her eyes and then the Necromancer strode in. She didn’t move, somehow, she couldn’t. Even as he approached her, his words mixing with the moans and screams in her ears as well with the pictures that played through her mind as the now dead rose from their cots and began to move about, following their master, like puppets tugged along on a string, she watched it all, even as she watched him, saw the entire hospital all at one instant and it wasn’t until he was so close to her that she was able to block the scenes of the undead from her mind and focus on the swords edge that now slit through the top of her shirt nearly cutting flesh, but not quite, though she could almost feel its cold steel against her skin and it sent a shiver up her spine.

“If you are in a good mood, then why ever would I want to disrupt your perfect evening then... sir.” She growled between gritted teeth, reminding herself of the sword that still lay against her chest.

Cella didn’t move, her hands remained clenched, even more tightly now and it showed as the small drops of her own blood that had fallen before now seemed to begin to flow evenly down her knuckles to mingle with the water from outside as well as stain and soak into the herbs and fungus laying still at her feet.

“Oh, am I crying? I suppose I just might be…” She answered him after a few more moments, seemingly picking and choosing what to answer and in what order for herself. “And no, clumsy, not usually.” She continued, her eyes turning now to look at him as his hand touched her cheek and yet another shiver ran through her and she only just barely controlled the urge to slap him harshly across the face for touching her with his foul hand. “Oh, and of course not, why EVER would it have anything to do with the likes of you.” She snapped sarcastically now, her anger growing and beginning to best her.

She now swallowed hard, her eyes not showing fear in any respect just simple hatred, a burning hatred that still showed itself as the entrance Hall continued to glow that purplish haze and she still didn’t notice. “Why?” She asked simply, nothing more just that one simple question though, she probably really didn’t want to hear the answer if he would even bother explaining it to her.

[Decimas]

Decimas smirked as the girl spoke to him, answering his every comment with such unwavering hate. Turning his wrists a bit, he placed the side of his swords blade against her chest and pushed softly against her as he took a single step backwards to look her in the eyes, his own still being unseen in the pitch black shade under the hood of his cloak. “Potato Potata” he said simply and casually, that same assanine tone in his voice as before. “You can ask why or why not, but it all comes down to the way you look at it.” he continued, taking a less sarcastic manner of speech.

“If my object in life comes at the cost of theirs, then that’s a choice I have to make, because for them to live out their lives to accomplish what they will, which for most of these people, im sure is no more that to live happily ever after, would be at the cost of mine.” As Decimas continued to explain to her the answer to that short, yet enormous question she asked him, he glanced swiftly back to a few dead men walking out of the hall into the lobby, much the same way as he had only moments before. “Kill or be killed, precious,” he said, looking back at her as he drew his sword a little away from her chest. “What it comes down to is its me or them, my dream or theirs. I make that choice because I can, dearest, and so I guess that’s the answer you were looking for, isnt it? Why do I do it, because I can.”

Decimas took a few more slow sleps back, in an almost eerily casual manner as more and more dead people filtered into the front looby from the halls of the hospital, all only recently dead and not rotten at all, but reeking of death as if the sun had scorched a battlefield. These undead were fresh off of lifes very plate and still holding in them the strength of their blood cousred veins as they stood tall rather than hunched, strode rather than stepped, and screamed rather than moaned, a sort of monstrous look about their faces and mouths as they seemed to roar. Stepping backwards into the crowd of undead, the necromancer lifted both his hands up along his side, on hand holding his sword that reflected the purple glow from the girls very emotions, and whos runes seemed to glow a brilliant black, if you could imagine. “This is the road to my afterlife.” He said proudly, as he spoke more loudly than before, and looking around at all the undead that surrounded him, “Pathway to eternal existence, and the undying gift of life.”

[Cella]

Cella held that invisible gaze, her own eyes still narrowed in anger seeking to try and find his under the shadowed hood, though at no cost, she couldn’t see him, his face was left a mystery and would remain as thus. Feeling the flat of his sword against her chest instead of the threatening sharp edge that was her keeper just moments before only told her that he did not intend on running that blade through her, but what was he on about? She wanted answers to her questions and why had he approached her in the manner he had, she had noticed his very first hesitation when he first entered the room but had not actually paid it much head until just this one instant when he had turned that sword to the side and pushed against her. So easily he could have claimed another life to add to his collection of walking dead, but he had not.

“If my object in life comes at the cost of theirs, then that’s a choice I have to make, because for them to live out their lives to accomplish what they will, which for most of these people, I’m sure is no more that to live happily ever after, would be at the cost of mine.”

These words more so than any others he spoke to her made that growl of anger rise up from somewhere deep within the small girl once more and as he stepped away, she found her feet following his, step for step, her fists still clenched tightly, now making a fresh trail of blood that followed her making a sort of deep crimson path from the door towards the walking mass of dead that now entered the hall.

“These people... you have no RIGHT!” She screamed at him, her feet coming to a halt as he began to mingle with the undead of his creation. “These were good people, honest and hard working people and NO! Not happily ever after, just simply live!” Her voice was much larger than she was, the sound reverberating and moving through the halls of the Hospital, drowning out all else, literally shaking the very foundation that was the building itself. Cella then stood there, her chest rising and falling rapidly from her outburst, her fists clenching and unclenching as she continued to glare at him, blood now covering her every finger as the dark substance continued to slide from the cuts in her palms, ignoring the walking dead as if they hadn’t even existed, but in her mind, she saw them, saw them all walking past her and out the door behind her and into the rainy night, all of them, each one giving her small form a wide birth as if coming to close to her would in some way harm them. This the only reason the small girl did not recoil in fear from the Necromancer or his army of undead, she knew they would not touch her before they even moved forward towards her.

“Undying gift of life.” She literally spit on the floor as she repeated his own words. “You disgust me Necromancer and trust me, one of these days you are going to run into the wrong person and I hope that day comes soon… then perhaps you will understand what it is to actually cherish life, you foul, insufferable waste of human life.” She growled once again between clenched teeth as she continued to glare at him, her tiny body shivering with anger, her mind continuing to play pictures for her in her mind, to remind her of what has happened this night.

[Decimas]

With both a grin of great sadist pleasure and arrogant self rightiousness, as well as an undertone reservation of worry as to her forwardness, Decimas stood amongsth the dead within the large open room as they all swarmed about, many still filling the hallways on their way into the lobby as others filtered out the doors, and his arms slowly descended to his sides as the girl angrily retorted to his statements. Seeing Cella’s ever growing confidence, Decimas started to slowly step towards her again.

“ ‘I’ have no right!?” he repeated passionately, emphasising himself as though he was offended by the statement, “”Neither do they.” He continued, shaking his head as he continued walking slowly towards her. “For them to live is as selfish as for me to kill, as their lives, theyre dreams, stand in the way of mine as much as my life and my dreams stand in the way of theirs.” He paused for a moment, in step and in speech as he tilted his head to the side a bit before shaking it side to side again. “I have the power to choose, is the difference, little girl.” He continued, smirking, still passionately furious at her comments. “You know very well, as you’ve hinted to yourself, that anyone who could take my life, my dream from me, would do so. Yourself included, im sure.”

“What right do any of ‘them’ have to take my dream from me?” he asked angrily as he stood a couple feet infront of her and gestured his hands up to his sides towards the herd of marching carcasses. “Or you, for that matter? What right do YOU have to tell me I’m wrong? What right does anyone have, to take my future from me?” The necromancer shook his head and licked his lips in agrivation as he looked into her furious eyes, though his expression couldn’t possibly be seen, only his tone of voice heard. “Maybe I SHOULD kill you now,” he said, narrowing his eyes and tilting his head to the side again, the unnatural shade of his hood dimming to that of a dark place and showing a glimpse of his face for a mere moment as his head moved towards her in mid gesture, all as he swiftly rose his sword up with that one hand of his and placed the tip of the blade at her neck. “Maybe I ‘should’ bring you into my souless afterlife with all the rest, maybe I ‘should’ be greedy.”

His own chest moved heavily as he breathed so deeply and angrily onto her, his face only a foot away from hers, though covered again in complete darkness under his wet black hood, and as he held his sword to her neck..

[Cella]

As the Necromancer began to once again advance on her, the small girl narrowed her eyes at him again; her lip curled in a snarl that she realized came from her this time. It was a bit of a shock; she had no idea what was pressing her forward to stand against such an evil and potentially health danger as he. She had no clue as to why she was acting this way, but she had found courage the likes she had never before known, and his slight hesitation and the fact that he hadn’t slain her already remained in her mind as he pressed his sword now against her throat, threatening the same.

“Maybe I SHOULD kill you now, maybe I ‘should’ bring you into my soulless afterlife with all the rest, maybe I ‘should’ be greedy.”

His words seemed to echo quietly in her somehow clearing mind as she felt the small sting of the tip of his sword against her neck. She could feel her heart rate slow, her breath ease up, almost as though she were about to sleep and then, she did something that perhaps scared her more than it would have him and she leaned forward into the blade now settled at her neck, allowing the tip to prick her soft skin, just far enough forward so that her blood would seep over the metal that now stung harshly against her and she gazed at him, her eyes no longer angry but somehow peaceful.

“I think, that if you could kill me, you would have already done as much.” She stated, her voice coming to him as if in a dream to her own ears. “I haven’t the slightest reasoning as to why, but for some reason, I think you are bluffing as well, I don’t think you could kill me even if you truly wanted.” She continued, ignoring his rant about his self-importance.

Everything was dreamlike now, all sound, except for the sound of her own voice and the sound of his breathing seemed to exist, even the walking dead, as they marched like perfect puppets from the hospital into the city street were not but colors as they passed her by.

All her life, she knew she was different, and now, faced with such a situation that would entail life or death in her case, a great many questions began to mull about in her mind, some of which, she was certain this awful man knew the answers to.

“You know something Necromancer, tell what it is you know about me.” She stated. “I know you know, I seen your hesitations and even smelled your silent fear. Why won’t your foul creatures come near me? Why won’t you kill me, or more to the point…” She let her lips turn up in an almost sadistic smile that was not her at all, “Why can’t you?” She ended, her violet eyes flashing with even more intensity now than ever before as she now seemed to gaze upon him in wonder.

[Decimas]

Dark blood from the radiating girl ran slowly and gradually down the rune carved blade of the necromancers sword as he stared in awe from the cover of darkness under his hood. Just then, as she confronted him, Decimas realised his mistake and closed his eyes to collect himiself as he smacked himself on the head in his own mind. He could feel the death in his blade moving into the bleeding skin at its tip, and when he opened his eyes to look at her, Decimas saw the eerie darkness creeping into the flesh of her neck as though it was actually a physicl force.

Should have let it be, he thought, should have just walked on by and left the girl crying in the lobby on her own to be flooded and scared by the sea of walking dead men from the rooms of her own hospital. He should have let her be traumatised, watching as the women and children marched through the lobby and into the streets as living drones of the necromancer’s sadistic gift of an undead afterlife. He would have saved himself a lot of trouble, he thought, by letting the creature be. Sometimes he even annoyed himself, something that confused him more than anything. He never could understand why he couldn’t leave well enough alone, why he had to dick around when he had work to tend to. What a contradiction he was, always so compulsive about his work, always so delicate and precise, always so paranoid and careful, but at the same time he couldn’t help but take his pride and confidence too far. How dreadfully ironic.

“I have use for you, little girl.” He finally said, having collected his thoughts after her unexpected reaction. “You’re a part of my dream, and my forces don’t tend to work against me.” Decimas slowly drew his sword out of and away from Cellas neck as he watched the dark essence still growing around the small cut in her flesh. “A sacrifice can still be made though, dearest, if it has to be.” He grinned sinically as he allowed the darkness under his hood to lighten up enough to show the form of his lips and a glimpse of his eyes, the tip of his sword slowly and delicately tracing down the front of the girl, barely touching the material of her shirt, barely cutting into it as he stopped the blade moving over her heart and right near her name tag. Taking a healthy breath in and licking his lips once as he stared at the tip of his blade over her heart, Decimas looked sadistically calm, purposely of course, and still held an eir of confidence, his lips still showing form, and his eyes still vaguely visible.

“I’d best be on my way dear.” He said to her, with a disturbing smile spreading his lips as he started to step forwards, walking next to her, his sword sliding around her as he moved his wrist to never touch the blade to her again. He didn’t need her to have even more evidence of her strength, and he couldn’t afford to tell her what she was. He couldn’t afford to have one more person on the other side, he didn’t want her knowing she could stand against him. “I’ve got work yet to be done tonight,” he continued, slowly turning his head back to look at her as he walked by, “People to be killed and their bodies to be risen up again.”

“I’ll be seeing you again Cella.” He said with a great grin just as he started to turn his head away from her again to face forward, his arm starting to bring his sword back down to his side. “We have a future to build.”

[Cella]

A few moments after Cella had pricked herself on the sharp point of his sword, and only after she had made her demands of knowledge, her mind seemed to begin to numb, almost as if she had been thrown into some dreamland where she was looking out from inside a stained glass coffin, everything mingling together shapes all meshing together as one, sounds blocked out completely now, all but his voice, his was the only one her mind would allow, almost as if his was the only one that mattered. She was finding it harder and harder to resist listening to him, her eyes fixed now on his hidden face, on the shadow that faced her, haunted her mind and then his lips, his eyes seemed to burn an image into her brain, she would not forget those features, they would be the very thing to haunt her forever more it seemed, that cruel smile, his harsh words.

What was it he said, yes, he needed her; he wanted her for something, but what? She dared not ask, her mind not allowing her to move further against him for some reason now, almost as if he had taken slight control over her motor skills and willed her to stay put, she seemed to want to obey.

“You’re a part of my dream…” He had said but how was she to be a part of HIS dream, couldn’t she only interfere? Be a thorn in his side, an annoyance to what he wished for? She couldn’t understand, she continued to gaze fixedly at his lips as he spoke now. She could feel him slide the blade down her chest and settle it just over where her heart would be and she tilted her head slightly to the side, a quizzical look coming to her dimming lavender eyes, the violet aura about the hall as well beginning to fade as he continued to speak to her and her mind seemed to be loosing its grip on what was real and what was memory. Barely audible, and somewhere in the back of her numbing mind she could hear herself screaming for her to wake, but she barely listened, she was to focused on his every word, his movements, her entire being seemingly, and for the moment, paralyzed in his presence.

She didn’t even realize he had taken his sword away, but she felt him move around to her side, watched through a haze as he moved, the colors of his person leaving a dark trail behind him as if someone had wiped a cloth through a painting of grays and black before her eyes, eyes that didn’t follow him but remained staring ahead of her, into a sea of swirling color, brighter than that of his, colors that seemed to be passing her at a slow and uneven pace. Her mind tried to tell her she should know what they were, but she couldn’t focus on the walking dead as they passed by, giving the both of them wide birth as they went.

She nodded her head as he told her he’d be seeing her again. It was almost as if she had expected him to state that fact, as if she wanted it. “We have a future to build.” He said, and those words seemed to burn themselves into her mind, echoing through her skull as if he were to be stating them over and over again and again and then she turned her head to look at him as he began to move away.

“I await your next visit Necromancer. Though I do not see a future for us, not if your dream conflicts with mine.” She stated in a voice that seemed hollow and distant, even to her.

Cella’s legs then gave out and she fell to the floor now sitting on the calves of her legs, her hands supporting her weight, head bent to the floor as her fiery locks fell to cover her face completely. “I will see you fall…” She stated just before she passed out on the floor, the wounds on her hands from her nails gone, the small cut on her throat closing up, holding in the darkness of death that had crept in from the sword, to remain there, a bit of the Necromancer that would continue to fight against her will, for how long, would not be known. Though by the time she would wake, she would remember little of their conversation, the pictures and images of this night would surely haunt her for a very long time.

[Decimas]

Dark shadows started to shift hurriedly by as those few people walking the streets at such a late hour in the night started to run about panicking and screaming, running from the hords of walking dead that were flowing into the city streets. The necromancer continued to walk to the front doors of the hospital without looking back at the girl who he knew was then fading away into a lulled state of unconciousness. He could feel her energy waning behind him as the masses of corpses marched on past her, still allowing the girl that little clearing around her in the crowd.

A blood curdling scream sounded through the streets of Karador just as Decimas walked through the doors to the outside amongst the hundred and eighty plus moaning deceased. He smiled as he glanced about at the scene before him, windows shattered and doors broken open as his army of dead forced their way into peoples homes along the road. Those few people that had been out in the streets had by then been overcome by the masses and been chewed into by the necromancers sadist creatures.

The streets became filled and crowded by the freshly risen dead from the hospital beds as Decimas started heading down the street in one direction along with many of the dead. The moaning groaning crowd of newly deceased zombies split apart and wandered in every direction that could be found, heading in both directions up and down the street and splitting off into the alleys and the homes along the way. The more than a hundred and eighty corpses flowed fluently through the area and decimas sortof faded into the drowd of them, though not entirely as he was still wearing his hooded cloak and walking by his own will, moving still as an individual rather than the herd that he had recently risen from the dead.

As the masses spread apart into more streets and more homes, more people screamed and more corpses were made. Decimas had made his way to the front of the crowd he had started to march in and walked with some confidence in his strides as he came across a few people in the streets who had heard the noise and come out to stand their ground in a futile attempt at honorable heroism. The people that stood in the street ahead of him and some even walked towards him, were armed with the likes of shovels and fire stokers as they had come from their homes in the night to stand against the army of raiding corpses that threatened their neighborhood. “You all are fools.” Decimas said allowed, his head still bowed under his dark hood.

The necromancer at the front of the pack of living dead was quite obviously a first target of the mean standing there infront of him. One man even marched right up to Decimas with a fire stoker and readied himself to take a swing as the other dozen men went to hold back the army of dead, defending the frontman, as it were, who was headed for the attack on Decimas. The necromancer looked up just as the man came three feet from him and was starting to swing his stoker at him. The man looked deep into the abysmal darkness under the necromancers hood when they looked at each other, and in that moment of slight surprise on the mans face when he could see nothing but black inside the dark hood of the villain before him, Decimas drew his sword from his back in one swift and fluent motion and straightened it infront of himself driving it directly through his assailents abdomen. Decimas continued to walk casually forward as his sword stuck through the man as far as the handle until they stood side by side, the man holding an open gasp on his face as the necromancer held his sword and pressed it firmly against the dying man. Flowing tendrils of mystic darkness flowed about the mans body and came into view as they spread to his neck and face. Pressing against the man and pushing down on the handle of his sword, Decimas knelt down slightly as he brought the man down to the ground with a look of sadistic sadisfaction upon his own face as though the feeling of taking the mans life was almost orgasmic. “Silenti etc mos orior oriri ortus.” He spoke under his breath but still loud enough for others to hear.

Decimas withdrew his sword from the mans torso as he stood back up and started to once again to walk casually and confidently down the street towards the greatly decreased group of hopeless rebels to the necromancers cause. Those men with their houshold tools in the streets had fought stupidly, ignorently, hopelessly. The blows they struck upon the marching zombies fell almost like rocks in the water. For as much force as the men could put into their swings, for as much damage as they could inflict on the corpses, the living dead simply took the damage and kept marching on them. Of the whole tussle only one zombie had been seerely damaged to the point where he was nearly useless, while there stood only another two hopeless heroes by the time Decimas looked up at them. “Sticks and stones will break their bones,” He said with a grin on his unseen face, and spoken in a deep menacing tone as he looked at the two remaing men before him. “but the dead will still march on.” He rose the flat side of his sword to one man that had gotten infront of him and pushed back against the deviants shovel with it and pressed back against the mans chest, pushing him to the ground, nocking him on his ass. Once the man was on the ground Decimas turned his sword on its side again and slashed the man across the chest, speading that force of darkness through his body as well, but payed no further attention as the last man was haulled down by the overpowering mass of corpses.

The first few of those men had started to rise again, joining the necromancers hords and Decimas simply walked ahead and slipped off into the darker corners in the streets unlit by the torches on the posts. As the crowd continued to march and more miscellanious men walked into the streets with ignorent hopes of putting up a semblence of a fight to the hords of dead, Decimas slipped away into the shadows and darkness, into the alleys behind the buildings and effectively dissapered into the eronious corners of the city, leaving the rampage for the night up to the mindless army he had created that night.