Viral Creed

NOTE: Yes, Again I use my own character. Don't like it, don't read it. I own nothing but her and her story.

This was based off of a short story I wrote and will post for you at some point... My nephew gave me the idea to turn it into this crossover. It's more of a test than an actual story as I have no idea where it's really going.

Also, no, I don't speak any language other than English. Everything else is provided by Google Translate blame them for any errors, please.

On with the story!

How could I have let him talk me into this? I was cold, hungry, and cramping like there's no tomorrow, yet this jackass - oh, I just had to agree to a date with him- had insisted we go exploring the catacombs. "It'll be romantic" he said.

Yea, wandering through dank old tunnels beneath Rome was SO romantic. Especially when running into spiderwebs, tripping over broken floor tiles, slipping and sliding across slime patches... so romantic.

Our art class was on a trip through Euroup for some 'inspiration' and the hottest guy in class asked me out on the flight over. How could I say no?

I honestly thought he was talking to the pretty girl behind me - she thought so too- "Not you, Blondie, I'm talkin' to freckles, here."

A frightened squeak echoed through the tunnels as hands slapped desperately at another cobweb. "Calm down, it's just a web. Why did you suggest the catacombs if you were so scared?" I plucked the sticky strings out of his hair as he stood there cringing.

Yea, it was fun for the first hour or so, disappearing behind corners to jump out and scare him every chance I could, then the idiot stepped on a rat skeleton, freaked out and took off running like a chicken, not watching where he was going and getting us lost.

I swear, if this scardy cat doesn't man up or shut up soon, I'm leaving his ass here with the 'ghosts'. No, I haven't seen a single one, yet. If I had, I would have ask for directions, but no such luck.

"You know you'd be less likely to trip and hurt yourself if you'd stop clinging to my back and watch where you're going." I tried hard not to growl at him for pulling me down with his clumsy ass. All he could do was whimper and scramble to keep up. I wasn't slowing down or waiting on him.

I spun around as I heard another yelp, ready to start telling him off, then noticed he was holding his ankle, crying. I checked it over for the baby and, sure enough, the idiot twisted it. "Don't worry, I won't say it." Although I did tell him so. Multiple times.

A bit of movement caught my eye and I looked up in time to see a bit of cloth disappear around a corner. I pulled the massive baby up and led him in that direction, letting him lean his ungodly weight on me to keep it off his ankle.

As we rounded the corner we found ourselves in a small, dry room. It was much warmer than the rest of the tunnels. I eased my 'date' to sit on the floor just as he noticed someone else in the room, screamed in my ear and scrambled back into the wall, causing a large portion of the celing to collaps and block the only exit.

I suppose the dead-pan look I gave my 'date' made it quite clear to our room mate just how done I was with his shit.

The hearty laugh was a very welcome change to the constant wimpering and squeeling I'd grown accustomed to over the past few hours.

"Mi dispiace, che non dovrei ridere." {I'm sorry, I shouldn't be laughing at that.} He calmed himself, looking us both over as I waited for my ear to stop ringing. "Che ci fai quaggiu, comungue?" {What are you doing down here, anyway?}

My 'date' was scared silent (thank God), while I had to take a moment to mentally translate the best I could, "Mi dispiace, signore... No Italiano... Englesh?" I asked hopefully and was happy to see him give a smile and nod.

"Si, signora, I speak a little English." He gave another look between us, "Is he alright?"

I had to laugh at his expression, it was priceless. Big, bad, Mr. Muscles was white as a sheet, mouth hanging open in a silent scream and eyes the size of dinner plates. "Yea, he's fine. Just scared of the spooky ghosts hiding in the shadows. I'm Cat, by the way. This is Jake."

"Buorngiorno, signora e signor." He gave an amused smile and bowed politely, "I am La Volpe."

He was quite handsome, in a country-boy kind of way, and wore a striped tunic with tights under a long, hooded cloak. "What brings you to Roma- oh!" He gave a sheepish look after realizing what he'd stumbled over was an old, dried up corps. "I-I don't seem to remember that being there before... Mi dispiace... I do hope that doesn't bother you much. It's not uncommon to find them down here..."

I shrugged it off and found a place to settle in, "Nah, doesn't bother me any. Besides, whatever it takes to keep him quiet..."

"What?" Jake finally snapped out of his fright-induced coma for a moment as Volpe gave another laugh. I moved closer to the corps, just to gross him out a bit more, causing him to swallow thickly to avoid throwing up.

"Just sit there quietly and look pretty. Maybe he'll decide not to eat you." I teased before returning my attention to Volpe. "We're art students. Our class is touring Europ in hopes the ancient cities and such will give us some inspiration... I'm honestly just taking whatever excuse I can find to avoid the family reunion."

"I see." He had such a bright smile as he settled in next to me. "Do you need a guide, perhaps? I would be happy to show you the city."

"Aw! That's so sweet of you to offer. I'd love that."

Jake decided to ruin our fun by puting two and two together and screaming, "Are you talking to a ghost?!"

Volpe gave him , then me an odd look as Jake began hyperventilating, rambling about wishing he'd never taken some bet. "Are you sure he's alright?"

"Not for long." I replied darkly. If looks could kill, that asshole would be UNDER hell. "That's why you asked me out? Because of a bet?" Both boys jumped and backed away a bit. Not that I was raising my voice or anything, quite the opposite, actually.

"Ask the creepy girl out on a spooky date? was that the prise for losing or was the bet over wether or not YOU could scare ME?" I held my cool as always. I spoke in a casual manner that, coupled with the look I had leveled on him, I knew would have him shitting bricks.

This, you see, is why I have no friends. My preferred genre in art is horror and no one wants to get close to someone who can come up with such morbid scenes. Not even the goths. Rumors float around the school about me preforming demonic rituals and conversing with spirits of the damned to get my ideas and talent... I can confirm it's partially true. I do get many ideas from the spirits I converse with. I think what scares them the most is that I look like the kind of girl that would be doodling happy butterflies and rainbows, a super girly-girl that dresses in a modest style of sweet lolita, then I talk about methods of death and torture like it's cupcaks and nyan-cat.

I could see Volpe shutter from the corner of my eye as he gave the jackass a look of sympathy mixed with gratefulness to not be my target.

"How about you keep your mouth shut- unless you're on fire- and I'll pretend I never heard that. Deal?" I received a stiff nod, then turned my attention back to my new friend. Sadly, he'd have to find out sooner or later, I just hoped he wouldn't leave me alone with this ass.

"I'm sorry, La Volpe, but don't you otice anything strange?" He gave me a confused look for a moment as he thought, looking around the room he noticed our clothes and the light source.

"What do you mean? What sort of things should I be noticing?" He tried to play it off but I could hear the tension raising in his voice.

"This is honestly the worst part about being able to see spirits... Running into the ones that don't realize they're dead." He tried to laugh it off as I gave a look toward the corps that wore a ragged version of his same outfit.

His eyes darted between me and the corps for a moment as he tried to hold his smile, his humorless laugh dying off as he stood and backed away, shaking his head in denial. "No... No, I'm not... No... No, nononononononon NO! I'm not dead!" He shouted, pressing himself against the far wall, eyes widening as memories of his own death returned.

He was tricked. Led into a trap by one of his own men. he was outnumbered... Someone was thrown into a wall and it caused a piece of the celing to come down... He began shaking, tears leaking down his face as he clutched his stomach, remembering the pain of hunger as he lay there, trapped by a piece of debris. They must have thought the piece that knocked him out had killed him- he wished it did- this was worse. The seemingly endless hours of screming, crying, begging to be forgiven and released. Regretting every mistake he'd made and every opportunity he'd allowed to pass him by. He remembered it all.

He tried to hold it back, but a sob tore itself from his throat as he slid to his knees, staring at his ow shrivled and dried up corps.

That's where the detail and emotion in my work comes from. The moment a spirit realises the truth, the moment they remember an event, I see it. I feel it. As if the memories were my own.

People- living people- see me as emotionless or heartless. I don't give much reaction to events around me. They don't realize how trivial their issues are when one has experienced dying in so many ways. The fear of a spider or the urgency of a broken bone is nothing when you've seen your own sibling smile as they hold a gun to your head, the bodies of the rest of your family splayed about the house.

They have no idea. Even the spirits don't realize how much of it I experience or how vividly.

I can't stop the tears from falling any more than Volpe can. Gathering myself together, I move to embrace the poor guy in a hug that he willingly accepts. I can't really feel his arms around me or the wetness of his tears on my shoulder. It's more like a memory of what it should feel like. If I could feel it, he'd be crushing me with his desperate grip.

It's unusual for spirits to remain after the realization. Some have to come to terms with it before they move on and a rare few will remain. Their reasons as diverse as their deaths.

Jake apparently got board and fell asleep while I did my best to comfort Volpe's spirit. Nearly an hour passed before he seemingly ran out of tears, though he continued to let me hold him. He mumbled softly into my shoulder, asking what the current year was then returned to quietly fiddling with the end of my braid as he thought. If there's one thing I've learned, it's to never rush a spirit.

"Nearly five hundrend years..." I'd began to doze off. It had to be well past midnight and I was still suffering from jet-lag. "And I didn't notice the passing of a single day."

"Time is an illusion of the physical world. It's like you closed a book and opened one that is set in another era."

A small nod of understanding was felt against my shoulder before he sat up on his own again, wiping away the dried trails left by his tears. His eyes were so red, so lost.

"What now? Must I leave?"

"Not if you don't want to. It's your choice."

A soft smile graced his lips once more, "Then I must make good on my promise to show you the city." He tried to move a stray piece of hair from my face but it seemed he'd worn himself out too much to interact with the physical world much more. "You should rest. I will figure a way to get you and Jake out of here." He sighed, looking over the mess that blocked out exit.

Everything will be alright, Volpe." I gave him a hug and kiss to the cheek before making myself as comfortable as I could, the memory-like feeling of his fingers running through my hair easing me into a gentle slumber.

Long first chapter- sorry

Hope y'all liked it and next chapter is coming up very soon!