Necrophilia Variations -- with Drag

[Drag]

More than surprised by Gravekeeper’s words, Origo blinked and allowed himself be pushed aside by the smaller male. “Out of the way and keep inside,” he repeated the phrase to no one in particular, since he was now alone in the human’s shelter. “That won’t work for me.” He quickly finished the job of retying his hair as he stepped outside to see what was happening.

 

There he was, standing guard like one of the marble angels in the murky darkness and holding onto his staff as if he planned to use it as a weapon. Gravekeeper reminded Origo of a shepherd keeping watch over his flock of sheep while a pack of wolves drooled and gnashed their teeth. Could the brave shepherd survive a feeding frenzy though, even if the alpha wolf stood close keeping the others at bay?

 

The more Origo watched Gravekeeper assess the scene, the more the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. A growl rose up in his throat. When alone in the uninhabited tundras far to the north, he’d often borrowed what he needed from the roaming coyotes and howling wolves that made their way over the untamed land. He understood them and their wildness. Instinct.

 

Lunging forward, Origo grabbed Gravekeeper by the wrist that was holding the staff. Despite the struggle and protest, he held on tight, allowing the heat that had played at his fingertips to focus into his palm. The sweet scent of cooking flesh hit his nostrils, reminding him of the time his own body had burned alive. Clenching his jaw, he bit out, “For your own safety.”

Because your light belongs to me.

After quickly releasing Gravekeeper’s wrist, he jumped back out of range of the staff he knew would most likely be aimed at his cranium. He looked at the mark he left, content with how it stood out against the male’s pale skin.

 

 

“Now you are ready to fight this battle.”

[TeaPlease]

The Gravekeeper was, currently, prepared to bite the figurative bullet. Coming to the terms with his already faltered chances finished. The assessment of the situation once- twice, three times- over secured the information in his head. He was ready to spring forward into the midst of the bloody scene and stop what horrors were occurring on the soil of his home. The screams of people reached his ears and he winced at the closer proximity of the high-pitched noises. No time to focus on the overall distaste that humans provoked in him. Action. He needed to take flight.

 

Right when he prepared to shout out a warning, the young man sensed the approach of a familiar aura. The Keeper could've cursed his anger- but there was no time for profanity. He'd hoped the man would keep to himself, but the grab caught him off guard.

 

"What are you doing?" he hissed, face flashing with uncharacteristic anger. But it reflected pain soon after as he felt the burning. The scent of his own flesh made him sick and his mouth opened to either yell or bite down on the thing that caused him such pain. Moving to knock Origo over the head with his staff, the young man bitterly thought of the others intelligence. Or rather, good sense. Looking down at the mark, the Gravekeeper only barely heard his words.

 

Glancing to the battle, his eyes flickered to the shadows. "We're going to have a talk when I am through."

 

The Keeper jumped into the fray. A human was already quite dead, bloodied and face frozen from apparent shock. The other was clinging to her last resort; her fear was obvious but she wasn't going to go out without a fight. With a focused mind, he went in, yelling something to the frenzied group. Swinging his staff, the Gravekeeper was surprised to hear the dull thunk of contact, one of the creatures having twisted sideways to avoid the blow and only getting hit in the chest.

 

Now attention had shifted to him. "Go!" he snapped to the woman, who kicked up dirt as she got up, staggering and lurching her way from the action. In a calmer voice, he addressed the group consisting of two females and a man. Obviously, they were beyond reason; the Keeper's words, whatever they were going to be, would fall on deaf ears. Preparing to swing again, the woman suddenly put her arms out and focused on the pale skin of the Gravekeeper's arm.

 

Looking down at himself, and then back to the now shocked group, he watched them slowly begin to retreat. Anger was still quite present but at least they were leaving.

[Drag]

With Gravekeeper wearing his brand, Origo felt more calm and clear headed - less feral, although the possessiveness didn’t leave. He knew that would be part of him for a while. He’d made the mistake of letting the Holy Man’s daughter slip away because he couldn’t bring himself to hurt her with the burn, or risk the chance that her village would see her as a pariah.

 

As he watched the Gravekeeper face down the blood bath, much like the human had faced him down in his home, Origo didn’t regret the decision he’d just made. He’d learned from his mistakes. Or maybe now he was just more greedy. Regardless, from what he gathered Gravekeeper was an outcast anyway, even if it was he himself who was responsible for it. The human simply seemed more comfortable with the non-breathing stones, dirt and the dead than his own kind.

 

Stepping further back into the shadows, Origo watched the male bludgeon one of the recently arisen, who had fallen on a human female. The scent of blood and presence of the woman’s spirit, free of its body shackle, drifted on the breeze. His mouth watered, but he held back, not wanting Gravekeeper to see him as the monster that many had perceived him as being. He couldn’t help moving closer though when it looked like the others might not heed his mark on the human’s wrist.

 

While Gravekeeper stood his ground against the others, and they sensed Origo’s presence, they came to understand that sating their hunger would lead to their destruction here and now. He felt Gravekeeper’s relief and anger, bitter and sharp. He wondered if there would be any sadness in his heart for the fallen one whose corpse now rested at a strange angle in the dirt and gore. Walking over to the body, he knelt down and closed her wide open eyes.

 

“Once the more savage ones disperse, your grounds won’t be littered by their meals.” Origo shook his head and looked up at the dark sky. “It had been a mistake to entomb so many together, but long ago they had not considered our rising. Or they thought if any of us did rise again it would at least not be in their lifetimes, or the lifetimes of their children and grand children.”

 

Origo wiped the woman’s blood, smeared crimson across his fingertips, onto the ground. As he stood, the woman’s whispering soul continued to circle around her corpse as if unsure what to do with itself. Grief. Fear. Regrets. Loneliness. A sad soul with little light. No flavor. Easily forgotten. In some ways her soul we even less complete than his own.

 

“The soul is still fresh from the body. Is she speaking to you yet? What will you do with the husk?”

[TeaPlease]

A prickling sense traveled up his hand and spread. His head throbbed dully and he felt the many fears of the spirits attach to his presence now that the group had left. Adrenaline eased from his body and was replaced by the onset of sickness. The Gravekeeper closed his eyes for a moment to make sure he was good on his feet before shifting his gaze to the dead body. There- that was better. The girl looked more attractive in his eyes- as a general sense. The heat wasn't overbearing anymore and he could appreciate the tint that was coming to her skin. It was more comfortable.

 

The young man didn't raise his head from surveying her body. A bit on the stout side; perhaps 5'3'' if he was in his normal sense of sharpness. Six inches across. Her new home would be settled in the..

 

Eyes scanning the area, he marked it mentally. The east section would be best for her. Perhaps being closer to human presence would ease her into the new community. The Gravekeeper nodded to himself and juggled the words that came from Origo's mouth with his own concerns and thoughts. For now, the man's questions were only met with silence. After a few more minutes of still reflection, the Keeper turned to the other.

 

Origo received a quick thump on the forehead from the staff in hand. "She's still mad. Her soul will open up eventually, once it stops fretting." Gingerly crouching down, the young man put his weapon aside and lifted the woman with a grunt and let her rest like a sack over his shoulder. "Come." He was already walking towards his destination, running his fingers along gravestones and looking lost in sight as he communicated with the spirits.

 

It seemed like it would be a busy night.

 

Although he enjoyed new arrivals, the Gravekeeper had dread begin to gnaw its way in. He couldn't stop everyone from feasting and fighting. And some might even disregard the mark in his skin, caught up in their own hunger. And all the digging he'd have to do, the measurements and preparations.

 

At least, when this all finished up, Abuelo would enjoy making his hot mix for all the new bodies.

[Drag]

Origo saw it coming, but didn’t make an attempt to dodge the dull thwack from the business end of Gravekeeper’s staff. He deserved it and more for what he’d done to the human’s wrist, even if it was a protective talisman/insurance policy. As the pain that lit up his brain eased into mild throb, and the flash of lightning behind his eyes faded, he was positive he had not made a mistake with marking Gravekeeper. Under his breath he murmured, “I think you will dislike me less once you see the true value of what I have given you.”

True light to guide you down the darkest paths you may travel.

Moving to catch up to the human, who now draped the corpse of the fallen over his shoulder as if he did this often, Origo smirked when Gravekeeper beckoned him to “come” as if he were either an obedient dog or one of the lesser spirits that dwelled here. He rubbed at the lump in the center of his forehead.

 

“Are you used to having all the spirits do exactly as you wish whenever you wish it? Understand I follow you only to...protect you from the others. Perhaps on the way to our destination you can entertain me by telling me what’s in your mind, aside of the obvious, that draws your brows together with concern.” He doubted Gravekeeper even knew he wore such an expression.

 

While they strode past a mausoleum, Origo saw more of his kin - their dead stares never leaving Gravekeeper.

[TeaPlease]

There was no time to mull over Origo's words. In fact, there was no care either. Right now, his mind was occupied with measurements and processions. What would be ahead and the things that lurked within the shadows ready to prey. A truly hectic day. The Gravekeeper deemed it one of his hardest. Or, at least, the one that held the most activity. The most interesting by far. He made a reminder to write about it when he got near pen and pad once again.

 

Again, he was pulled from thoughts with spoken sound. Something about Origo made it somewhat better to be interrupted mid-musing. But that didn't exempt the man from getting a side-eye

 

"They're people. We respect each other as such. I don't order them around like common workers. I ask them for help, should I ever need it, or to go with me places, should I ever want them to go," he answered without a bit of hesitation. "They trust me, and I them." It was a long way off to the other side, and the Gravekeeper shifted the woman to his other shoulder.

 

Walking was easy. Carrying a bit difficult. But peppering questions threw off the silent flow of it all. At least, for the young man it did.

[Drag]

“You don’t care much for words, do you human.” Origo actually found it somewhat challenging to try to keep up with Gravekeeper as he followed him through the cemetery, stepping around wrought iron fencing and ivory statuary, snagging his robes on the branches or a few scraggly hemlock branches. “In your mind is where you prefer to be as you live your life alone. Alone with the grass and earth, the crickets and nighthawks, the faceless spirits who guide you and carry on conversations with you at meal time. ” Origo sighed. “I can understand all of that.”

 

He truly could. His existence spanned decades, centuries and even when not entombed he found there wasn’t always someone worth speaking to. So he would say nothing. Just wait and watch and listen. Origo wasn’t sure how many times had he stood in the very center of a bustling city and felt – nothing. Blank. Other times it seemed everyone and everything passing by was soiled linen. Dirty minds and dirty hearts – stained souls full of sludge and auras of…rot. Putrid. But then that one soul would find him - that one single perfect song reaching him through the slums and barrios and he’d follow it listening. Waiting. Always waiting.

 

Origo sighed and studied Gravekeeper again, realizing how much the smaller male was struggling under the weight of the body. Sensing Gravekeeper might be too proud, or simply unused to assistance, he did what he thought would make the situation better, if not more interesting. Origo moved his foot out and tripped him. While the male floundered and dropped the body, Origo stepped in and scooped it up, flopping it up and over his own shoulder.

 

“Lead on,” he said nonchalantly, the corner of his mouth tugged upwards in slight smirk.

[TeaPlease]

Someone that understood him- truly, he had never entertained such notions. The Gravekeeper had already established within himself from a very early age to drop any thoughts of finding that. No one was like him. He wasn't even to be considered one of the more eccentric section of human-kind. He was not of that sort. He had decided with absolute positivity that he belonged nowhere yet. Until he himself passed, being considered a spirit or ghost wouldn't do. Even contrary to the long rumors and legends of the "Ghost Boy" a'walkin'. With the new presence of Origo, he was almost forced to consider it.

 

Was the man like him? Did they have similar experiences? Did their lives follow a parallel to one another's? Better yet, their minds- their thoughts? It gave him more fuel, mind warming as his thoughts welcomed the new heat. They buzzed around now. The body was becoming a bit of a strain, but that was with every job and he was content with the fact that he himself was distracted from any difficulty and proceeded with his job.

 

It was that current situation which influenced the young man's delayed response. His face met the dirt and leaves underneath him, the body dropping nearby along with his own. And that was how he remained. Slowly, every so slowly, did his arms stretch out, nails curling into the ground as he pushed himself up. Head turning with robotic twitching, there was barely any change to his usual indifference. Better to deliver the blow.

 

It was the eyes. The narrowing of the eyes. They were already pools of judgement, but the frost that seemed to come over his entire presence concentrated deeply into that look. Monks trained years upon years to master such simplicity, men and women alike stunned by mere imitation versions. This.. This was "The Look."

 

Brushing the dirt off, the Gravekeeper faced forward and walked again. His pace was brisk, turns sharper as they went through winding ways, the ground becoming harder in some sections, gravel biting into the bottoms of their feet. But the young man made not a peep more. This was the psychological equivalent to Chinese water torture.

[Drag]

Having figured the human’s coordination was better than it actually was, since he seemed adept at making his way through the necropolis, Origo had not planned on Gravekeeper falling completely to the ground. As he hoisted the female's body to a better fit over his shoulder, Origo’s grin faded when Gravekeeper’s eyes, which had just begun subtly warming towards him, turned rapidly to ice – a winter glare sinking its teeth into the Vernal Equinox.

 

As Gravekeeper sped off, Origo tried to formulate words of apology or maybe humor to ease the situation, but all he could concentrate on was the other male’s cracking aura. He once again reflected on how long it had been since he’d seen one like it: cobalt and violet– cool tones all tangled with slashes of fire and spikes of gold. Origo half expected the sizzle pop sensation that brushed against his skin, since he’d sensed it mildly when the human was confronting the ones who murdered the woman whose body he now carried, but directed at him it was intense. Satisfying.

 

And you probably don’t even realize this about yourself, rare soul. No wonder the spirits of the dead flock to you. They sense it too. Moth to flame…moth to flame.

 

Unable, and perhaps unwilling, to deny himself more of that immaculate fire and ice, Origo matched pace with the male so he could remain in his vicinity. After several moments of silence couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “So what now, human?”

 

Origo waited.

 

Nothing. Not even a sigh of frustration or annoyance from the other male.

 

“No words from you now, hmm?” He watched Gravekeeper’s aura flare and spark. “I see. Words aren’t always necessary.”

 

Maneuvering the corpse once more, which was stiffening slightly as the beginning buds of rigor mortis set in, Origo moved his sleeve and slowly traced his fingertip over his own wrist in the identical pattern he’d branded into Gravekeeper’s skin. He wondered if the male was in tune enough to actually feel the connection he’d placed between them yet. He smiled when he saw Gravekeeper’s hand twitch. You can't ignore me forever.

[TeaPlease]

The nerve. The nerve of that insufferable man! What had he been meaning to accomplish but to make a fool of him!? The thoughts circled around in a frenzied pace, much like the emotion of annoyance itself. He wasn't angry. Oh anger would be much more prominent. Ticked, yes. Annoyed, greatly. Irritated, quite so. But even the slightest bit of that negativity was big enough to make a pointed presence. If there was anything he would be angry about it would have to be dropping the body.

 

It should have never gone from his grasp. Had he fallen, it would have been protected if not for his wandering thoughts. Yet the cause was Origo. The Gravekeeper tried to keep his mind off of the frustrations and center himself again.

 

And right when he was beginning to cool, right when he felt the hands weighing him down lessen, Origo had to open his mouth and bring all of it back. Not a word. Not a peep. His gaze remained fixed upon the path they were taking and the appearing grove where tombstones were placed. Nails dug into his spine and sparks of the negativity went off. His throat constricted around the ash and kept the words from leaving.

 

No. Origo would not have the satisfaction.

 

The Gravekeeper felt an itch at his wrist and involuntarily twitched at the light sensation. Now that they were at the spot, he feigned surveying the ground for a spot as he glanced at the marking. Odd thing. He should've hit the other harder for it. Always a next time, though. And with that, he began to measure and dig, setting to work.

[Drag]

Origo knew they were finally at their destination when Gravekeeper started to strike his spade into a section of earth. Here there seemed to be less tombstones and mausoleums - less sculpted angels and iron fencing offering detail to the scenery - the younger, fresher section of the vast cemetery. Origo tipped forward and let the rigid corpse slide slowly off his shoulder and onto the ground. “Your new home,” he said to the body.

 

Walking over and hoisting himself up, Origo stretched out on a nearby monument slab and put his hands behind his head. He again wished there was a moon hung in the sky tonight, but at least the crickets played for him. He closed his eyes and listening to insects and to the scrapes, dull thuds and grunts of the male as he worked to dig the grave. “I would help you again, Gravekeeper. However, it seems you don’t favor my methods. Or me very much at the moment.”

 

Silence.

 

Stubborn thing. During an upward swing of the shovel, Origo lifted his arm and blew an icy breath over the mark on his wrist, knowing for certain he’d seen Gravekeeper studying the mark he wore earlier when he was deciding where to bury the female.

 

“Dig, toss, dig toss...tedious work. What of the authorities, human? The last time I was on the surface it was generally looked down on to merely dispose of a body without trying to contact those responsible for conducting an investigation, or at least the victim’s family.” Origo breathed over his wrist again, hot breath this time. Fire for ice. “You can’t hide all the bodies you know.” Another breath. “I can guarantee there will be more corpses than just this one.”

[TeaPlease]

Shut up. He wanted to say it desperately but everything in him wouldn't agree with the train of thought. If he said something, another would follow. His throat was still trying to recover from the explanations from earlier. Launching into a tirade would do no good when it came to the healing process. The Gravekeeper continued his unspoken vow of silence with great commitment. Insufferable thing. Talking to his guest, his husk. The ground's husk. The cemetery's husk. His. Not Origo's but his cemetery.

 

Approaching the digging with an added vigor, the Gravekeeper was disappointed at his own thoughts. Origo was apart of this community as were the other risen. Some were menaces, yes- others would prove to be worse than the first group, he was sure. But Origo had hurt no one. Annoying, yes, but.. not a violent man. It was unfair to him to be so rude.

 

How could he not, though!? The smug creature faffig around as if the Gravekeeper was not toiling away with the digging. Not that the young man would want it, anyhow. The conflicting thoughts battled for the foreground and a headache approached. It did not help that he felt a tingling sensation at his wrist- even stronger now. Cold. Hot. Cold. Hot. His head was pounding.

 

Can't hide them forever, could he?

 

Mere human, was he?

 

Authorities trespassing on his home, huh?

 

The Gravekeeper let his shovel firmly slap the stone that was nearest Origo's ear. Shut up. Shut up. I don't need your mouth, I don't need your blathering. I don't need your tongue. He went back to his duties, making good enough progress by himself. How this man could provoke such anger in him was annoying in itself. Expressing himself through emotions and voice was not a strength the young man had. Action was better. More dependent. Certain. Words could lie- actions had a lesser chance of hiding anything.

[Drag]

Intense. Human. Emotion. Soul fire unleashed. This right here was what Origo needed. He took the human’s unspoken screaming, which he couldn’t really hear, only feel, deep inside himself until his lungs burned, then he let his arm flop down onto the slab. His blood felt full of wasps and wine – an intoxicating sting that made him a little lightheaded.

 

“Perfection,” Origo hissed through his teeth, “That is how it should always be.” Origo tucked his hand back under his head, eyes still closed, waiting for Gravekeeper to answer his questions. They were logical of course and the human seemed to apprecia…

 

Sparks flew. Real sparks caused by metal kissing stone, not sparks of emotion. His ear was ringing and the world sounded muffled, like he was underwater, as Origo launched himself off the stone slab and spun to face the human. Blue light sizzled at his fingertips as he stepped forward.

 

“You should learn to control your soul fire.” Grabbing the shovel from Gravekeeper’s hands, he threw it aside and got up in the male’s face. “How can I keep you safe when you’re broadcasting yourself to all the hungry who would not be as careful with you as you would like?”

 

Stepping back, sensing he himself was short on control, Origo shook his tingling hands out. He kicked the shovel back over to Gravekeeper, not wanting to get close to him until he knew for sure he himself wouldn't do something he'd regret.

[TeaPlease]

You're not afraid of him. You're not afraid of him. And he wasn't. But the Gravekeeper needed to assure himself as the situation progressed rapidly. He felt the sparks before the man even approached him, eyes closing as if to accept whatever might come to him in the form of an attack. It was quite rude of him to do such a thing, but he'd needed to vent. There was no point in thrashing the home of others and kicking up grass and dirt. He wasn't scared of Origo.

 

He certainly did want to cringe away from the approaching creature, however.

 

Feeling the shovel wrenched from his hands and tossed away, The Gravekeeper kept still as the proximity between them lessened.

 

There was no yelling. That was good. Just simple, to the point. Somehow it relaxed him to know that Origo could get like this without losing complete control. Simply, the Gravekeeper crouched down and collected his shovel to go back to shoveling. It was only then did he say anything.

 

"I apologize." It was delivered to the dirt but clear enough. But that was all the man was going to get in terms of words for now. The Keeper knew when he had done wrong and he knew that things should be fixed when such things occurred. It was not as if he were above such methods. Wiping his neck of the cold sweat that had gathered, he paused in his work and looked to the body.

 

So cold. It needed delivery. How could he keep her waiting? You'll be home soon enough. I promise you.

[Drag]

Origo nodded his head and stepped further away from Gravekeeper until the shadows obscured him, then he jumped up onto one of the iron fences. Balancing along the length of the metal, when he reached the end he leapt unto a mausoleum to get a better view of their surroundings. None of the others were near. For now.

 

Kneeling down, his forearms resting on the smooth stone, Origo studied the eastern sky, which seemed to now have a faint, russet hue – a hint that morning would be coming. And what then? Is that when other humans will discover what’s happened here? What kind of weaponry will they have this time when they form their mob and build their fires? What binding incantations? Origo shook his head. “Too soon for that. I will not accept being bound again.”

 

Origo listened to the sounds of Gravekeeper’s labored breathing while he worked to dig the grave. He felt residual sparks of energy from the human finding their way to him in the wind, binding to the broken pieces of soul.

[TeaPlease]

Finally. Resting the shovel on the ground, he panted shallowly and wiped his forehead as he peered down into the hole. The Gravekeeper sighed gently and turned to the body. It was a husk but something to be treated with respect- not thrown into a pit as if discarding trash. With great effort and restraint, the young man lowered the body someways before letting it hit the bottom the rest of the way.

 

And now to let it rest and decay.

 

The Keeper went with covering the body back up, undoing his hard work in a mere few minutes unlike the long ordeal that digging happened to be. The sun was peeking out and he knew he'd need to leave quickly. Already his eyes were beginning to narrow to a squint and movements a bit more unsure. His eyesight was not something to rely on but having it completely pushed to the side was something he did want to avoid.

 

"Come." Looking to Origo, the young man beckoned the other down after patting the dirt and smoothing it as best was possible. He'd whittle the gravestone in his chambers. The body needed to be rid of- it was too near the gates. And by then, if or when the people came, he needed to be gone. It wasn't as if he could function in the sunlight anyhow. Taking the shovel to pat at the dirt once more, the Gravekeeper said a few words- not a prayer, at least, it didn't seem like- and nodded for Origo to follow him.

 

Already his pace was brisk, business and hurrying now. Rushing to death and sanctuary all in one.

[Drag]

From his vantage point on top of the mausoleum Origo kept watch on the sky, his surroundings and on Gravekeeper as he toiled with the dirt and the corpse. Enough time had passed since the death of the woman that he could now see her spirit clearly; a drab, colorless soul sitting on a rock nearby, watching the human handle her former body. Origo looked away, drawn to the sound of nearby chirping.

 

Cemetery birds, mourning doves, sparrows and robins, unconcerned with death or sadness or souls as they plucked worms and seeds from the freshly overturned soil Gravekeeper tossed, had awakened several minutes ago. Out of nowhere a mother robin darted in, landed on a hawthorn branch close to where Origo sat, and began feeding her young. The five tiny chicks, with mouths that seemed larger than their entire bodies, strained their necks upward from the nest as they begged for food. “I know how you feel, little ones - just the smallest bits one at a time for now. Never enough, but somehow you always grow wings and learn to fly.”

 

Minutes, maybe hours passed while Origo sat and waited for the human to finish. More daylight. More sun. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen the sun,” he told the birds as he stood and stretched. “But if it were my choice we would all be watching it take its blazing flight over the ocean.”

 

The ocean. I wonder how far it is from here. It can’t be too far, because I can smell it and feel the power of the waves. While he was reminiscing about the sea, half tempted to simply pick up the human and head in the direction of the water, Origo heard Gravekeeper call up to him. “Psh, ‘come’ he says, like I’m some dog.” Then again, wolves are canines, are they not? And I did mark him.

Taking his time in jumping down, Origo nodded to the dead woman's blank-stare spirit, which now sat on top of the fresh earth of her resting place, then he caught up with Gravekeeper.

 

“What now, human? You’re squinting and running as if you can’t stand this glorious sunlight. Do you realize how incredible it is to feel it on skin that hasn't known true light or true heat for as long as I have?”

[TeaPlease]

Shut up. Shut up, be quiet, cease the jabbering! His gait was a twisted one, between a sorrowful drag and a skip of hurry as if to escape a monster. A painful burn was gathering along his skin. He felt the disease spreading. The heat. So bright- too bright. The Gravekeeper struggled now. The body. He must hide the body. Locating the broken soul, the male took the husk and began to drag it elsewhere for a quick place for it to rest. "I'm sorry," he murmured to the soul who drifted with him in lost confusion.

 

It rose. He could hear it. The boiling mass, the screech and song of the bird's of death. His Death. The light was his own death, next to sleeping dreams. God, it burned. How could anyone live amongst this godforsaken, constantly at their necks, their sides, their faces, smiling down with mocking teeth and sweltering skin?

 

The foliage would be enough. This part of the graveyard was not seen very well from any normal vantage point, even the odder ones.

 

Now- to get to safety. His home was a hobble and drag away and with the rate he was going, that seemed accurate enough. Putting his hand out to grip Origo's arm, the Gravekeeper tugged on the sleeve urgently as if the other man was the one who had come to a stop. And so he proceeded, using Origo as a wall, of sorts, to kick off from. Dirt would lead him; his eyes were useless now with the sun up. The closer to silence the safer.

 

How his body was persevering, he didn't know. Usually the Gravekeeper would have buckled under these circumstances.

[Drag]

It was more instinct than anything to get closer to the human - something was wrong and Origo could not fully comprehend what it was. Or maybe their connection was much stronger than he initially thought. The mark on Origo’s wrist felt like it was being traced over and over by an acid-coated tongue. Burning sensation. Pain…pain…PAIN!

 

The agony of burning alive. The deep rumble of Holy Man’s voice - archaic words of ritual and jeering crowds. Blood. So much blood stung his eyes. “Burn…me, burn this body, but you will only make me stronger. You only give me more life through your hate!”

A desperate hand grabbed Origo’s arm, yanking him back to reality. Gravekeeper. “No!”

 

Battling through the Hell of memories and agony of flesh, with a growl Origo yanked Gravekeeper up and tossed him over his shoulder like he had the corpse. Clumsily barreling over the short distance to the human’s home, he crashed through the door with his foot and stood panting in the semidarkness. When he was moreorless ready to let him go, he let the male slide carefully down his body.

 

“What was that, human?” Origo asked through clenched teeth. “Is that what sunlight does to you and you never bothered to tell me before it was too late and you were in agony?” Origo stepped away and angrily slammed the entry door shut. In the now pitch blackness he quickly moved back to the other male. "Talk. To. Me."

[TeaPlease]

Pain came searing from his touch. If fingermarks would appear, the young man wouldn't be surprised in the least. Everything stung. He was on fire. It hurt something horrid and times like this he truly wished he could be amongst the spirits. Closing his eyes, the Gravekeeper let himself be taken to sanctuary. Fire was all he felt. But slowly, it died down with the lid finally closed. Never again. Never again. Letting himself lean against his slab of a bed, the Keeper didn't try to hoist himself up from the ground.

 

Words came slowly. His mouth was wracked with tingling sensations as it came to realize that it would be used again. Breathing slowly, the Keeper didn't reply until he found that his throat was cold enough, tongue ready to move accordingly.

 

"I didn't think." Looking up to Origo, eyes finally beginning to clear of spots and focus on him, the young man let out a long sigh. "I didn't think. You talked- of enjoying the warmth. I let you have that moment purely under.. the time constraint. It was not my intention to make you so..." Again, he frowned at the man and waved to his form.

 

After a pause, he finally said, "angry."

 

Getting up was another ordeal. Head full of wasps, humidity gathered in a center and the male swayed for a moment before letting himself sit on his bed. All they could do was wait now. There was some doubt of any further involvement or investigation for the fallen, but humans were odd creatures he didn't much understand. For now, all he wanted was a recovery period. The Gravekeeper closed his eyes, speaking clearer now. "Will you leave to search for your brothers and sisters?"

 

Even if Origo was a cryptic man, his sentences twisting and following their own tails, chattering away constantly.. The Gravekeeper thought him a good person to have around. In a begrudging mental-admission sort of way.

[Drag]

“You…let me have that moment, did you?”

 

Genuinely surprised by Gravekeeper’s words, even though part of him knew there was probably very little that was normal about the male, whose skin seemed to catch fire in the sunlight as if he were nosferatu, Origo continued to seethe as he sat down hard at the closed entryway, his shoulders slamming into the wood. Unable to contain the anger Gravekeeper spoke of moments ago, hinges rattled when Origo tossed his head back, banging it on the door as he let out a frustrated yell.

 

“Go and search for my ‘brothers and sisters’ and what? I should leave you alone with a shovel and oaken staff to protect yourself with?! When they find you here by yourself asleep, even if you dream that you are a wolf or a lion with teeth and speed and claws, they’ll still tear your flesh apart and mangle your soul to pulp. I know this all too well, human. ALL too well!”

 

He knew he was saying too much and decided to back off. Eternity was his and Origo had put his foot in his mouth hundreds of times if not thousands in the pursuit of life. Lost as many battles as he won. Loved…hated. Found…lost. On and on and on. But now is not the time to keep dwelling on all of that. The present is what matters. Calm. Calm…

Without realizing he was doing it as his thoughts drifted away, Origo ran his thumb continuously over the eternity symbol on his wrist. “Is it always like that for you? The sunlight and the pain I mean.”

 

As soon as the words left his mouth, Origo retracted the statement. “Never mind the question, Gravekeeper. Sleep now if that’s what your mind and body both need. I’ll remain here since I have no desire to have to explain myself to others at this point. I know nothing of this time and place yet.” Although if I had not met you I would be searching for that which you have inside yourself, Perfect Soul, even if you are strange for a human.

At that moment Origo realized what he was doing to his wrist. He stopped the motion and folded his arms over his stomach. “Have your rest now.”

[TeaPlease]

Tiredness nagged at him. If it hadn't been for that, the young man would've given the other a look as an answer. Odd thing. He'd said that, hadn't he? So it was to be true. The man's ears were well in quality at that, not to mention. The Gravekeeper kept his eyes closed to recover from their stunned state. He could imagine the man now, grinding his teeth, head crashing back and looking so grumpy. So angry. It was weird to see that from the man. It actually made the Keeper a bit wary.

 

It was the yelling that got to him. His body curled on itself, grimacing and cowering away from the harshness. No- it was childish of him. He wasn't afraid of Origo's yelling or ranting. The man had his reasons for becoming so agitated. The wild emotions that were rushing about the room made him sick again. Head back to stone, the Gravekeeper grunted quietly in mere understanding before peeking down at his wrist. There goes the sensations again. It all felt so weird. Even if it bothered him... Well, Origo had his own tics, it seemed. He'd let him vent.

 

Listening again to him, his ranging ideas and thoughts, the young man let out a sigh. "It does," he finally answered with a constricting throat. "I try to avoid it."

 

Another short silence. Finally, he shifted, yawning and settling again in his 'bed.' "You do the same." And, afterward, the Gravekeeper fell silent- not asleep, oh no. But he was.. in a resting state of mind. Just like had been ordered.

[Drag]

Aside of the chirping birds on the other side of the door and the human’s light breathing, there was silence. He didn’t need to rest, but Origo closed his eyes and continued to focus on calming his raw nerves. He knew he needed to be more cautious about the things he was saying, even though Gravekeeper seemed to shrug off strange things that most would find unnerving. But still, the fastest way to lose something was to be careless with it.

 

Origo tugged off the tie that secured his hair, then ran his fingers through a few times before resting the back of his head on his hands. After a long, peaceful silence he found himself beginning to relax again. “You…that situation reminded me of something from long ago,” he said quietly as he touched the scars on his forehead. “So long ago that the ghosts of memories should have gone away by now.”

 

Not knowing what else to say to the male resting on the bed nearby, Origo stretched his senses out to see if he could locate others who had risen. Maybe if he were less greedy or one of Charlemagne’s chivalrous paladins he’d go on an extermination run, but he wasn’t. He had what he wanted and knew the less intelligent wouldn’t last long. In a kill or be killed world the ignorant and the weak always go down first - whether human, animal or other - leaving the strong to share the spoils.

 

“Tch.” Waving off thoughts of the others, Origo’s attention turned back to Gravekeeper. “When you are done pretending to sleep, tell me why your skin burns in the light, human.”

[TeaPlease]

Origo had habits of talking to himself. Habits the young man had been hoping to abuse with his resting period. Much to his disappointment, he barely got any information from the man. He barely spoke in the silence of his home. The Gravekeeper inwardly sighed and listened to dust mites unsettle, Origo's breathing and the vibrations from his words. Other things were probably happening outside. People walking around, risen or not.

 

All he hoped was that the grass wasn't trodden on too severely. That the spirits, too, slept and rested well in these quiet hours.

 

The burning ones.

 

Merely grunting at the order, the Gravekeeper was silent for a few minutes longer before deciding to respond. Eyes opening into slits the young man yawned. "I don't know. I've spent.. my years, in darkness. I suppose my body is more used to it than the light. When the light- hits. It burns.

 

After a moment to ponder, he continued, voice cautious as if to feel out his own words and ideas. "Even the humans are overly warm. It's just something- that.. occurs," he explained. Shortly afterward, he put his head back down and grimaced. At least this talking issue was beginning to wear down in pain.

 

"Why?" Origo was always so interested, in the Gravekeeper's opinion. He would've liked to hear more about the others life. But it seemed like a sensitive topic for the man. For now, he'd relent. For now. Come another day, there would be much conversation between the two. And by conversation it would be a drilling for information.

[Drag]

“The ‘why’ of it is because I’m curious,” Origo answered nonchalantly. “It’s abnormal for a human to be sensitive to the point where the sun actually burns his skin after such brief exposure, so this fascinates me.” After pausing and contemplating the information for a moment he continued. “And even something as mundane as flesh to flesh contact, which has nothing to do with the rays of the sun, is too warm? I assume once a body is dead this is not an issue however.”

 

Origo stretched and ran his hands through his hair again. He knew the human was tired, but being a creature who had existed for eons, he had experienced a lot, so unusual people or circumstances, and learning new things, were all highly satisfying to him – like a shiny new toy. He felt fortunate the soul he was after was not only packaged in a nice container, but also tied with an interesting bow.

 

The phrase, “even the humans are overly warm. It’s just something that...occurs” kept playing through Origo’s mind. “Gravekeeper, it seems you were born for the night. Darkness and death may touch you, but light and the living may not. As I said before – fascinating.”

 

Listening to the male’s light breathing and occasional ruffling of bed linens when he flipped from one position to the next, Origo rested back against the door again. The small space at the base of the wood let in just enough light that he could see silver dust motes slowly tumbling and chasing one another other. They reminded him of his thoughts. I really should let the human sleep. “I’ll stop talking now. Rest well.”