Coming back from collecting the skin samples of the rotting corpses still walking the streets. 'I can't help but wonder where did things go wrong?' I feel anxious about peeling off the grotesque layers of clothing, it serves nothing but a reminder of what lies in wait on the cold dark streets of London. People say that once there was a time where the sun rose high and bright and there wasn't the thick smog to block it out, I think those are just the ramblings of mad men. My name is Rebecca Elizabeth Southgood, I inherited my estate and my troubled curiosity from my father, Lord Nathaniel Southgood who is no longer with me thanks to the spread of a new strand of disease. That came with the smog to, when the common people decided to burn bodies to make sure their dead stayed dead. I am thankful for the help I get at home from Mary Ann, she a chubby little thing with blonde curls and a warm smile. Without her and Marcus, who looks like he could work as a grave keeper, I think I would have gone mad.
As I walk into the door I am immediately greeted with by Mary-Ann's scornful look but she immediately pales seeing me holding the discarded piece of skin. "What have you been doing mi'lady? you could have given me a heart attack with worry." Sighing I give her a small smile and and tuck the skin away in a protective veil before handing it to her. "..Put this in my lab my dear, I believe I could finally figure out and isolate the genetic strands that caused this change" which earns me a pop to my arm before she walks out doing as I asked. Slowly and carefully I make my way up to my quarters and take off the disgusting grimy clothes, which I am surprised protected me in the first place. As I look into the mirror I see flashes of memories causing my skin to prickle a little bit in disgust. The sound of the shambling rotting corpses falling to the ground and the pounding of feet running from them echo in my ears. Looking down at my hands, I see myself cutting the flesh of a baker who my father used to take me to see when I was younger. Sinking down to my knee's on the hard wooden floor I start to feel the tears flow down my face, feeling overwhelmed by the resentment that my country is in and how I am powerless to stop it.
Mary-Ann comes wobbling in wearing her black maid dress with her blue apron on, I liked the color on her, it seemed to make her less dreary. I wish I could smile and tell her that I'm fine but my voice keeps getting caught in my throat and my eyes keep betraying me. I feel her kneel next to me and comfortingly rub my back. "Mi'lady, you must get ready soon, Lord Alexander Ashberry the third will be here soon. now lets dry those tears before dinner." I thought I could get out of this shame of a relationship by getting caught up in work, but I suppose things are expected of a lady. I can just hear my father saying it now, he would have been proud of such a union if Lord Ashberry could manage to tear his eyes away from the help. The thoughts made me laugh a little bit and I let her brush my tears away. "Thank you Mary Anne, would you happen to have a gown fitting for tonight? I am afraid I didn't put much thought into what I want to wear to capture his attention." She just gives me her usual mothering smile and pulls out a log black gown and a leather corset. Leather corsets seem to be all the rage these past couple years, and if you didn't have one people would clearly pout you out in a crowd. Countess Johanna Bowden seems to make a new trend of corsets every ball, one evening she showed up in one that have engravings and ribbons on it.
After an hour of primping and preparing me Mary-Ann walked away feeling rather proud of herself with my hair resembling that of a proper young lady of noble standing instead of the dirty rats nest that I always find myself having for my work out on the streets. I could swear I felt myself bleed from the constant pulling and tucking that she did. I was equally surprised I didn't bruise from how tight she made the corset, it makes me think about the wonders of the human body. These thoughts sometimes scare me and that is when I try to think about all the freak abominations that other people created. Automatons that think and feel for themselves, prosthetic body parts that are pieced together like clogs of a clock. I think of how I refuse to go to those lengths and it makes me smile at the lunatics who consider it more fashionable. I make use of the steam powered gadgets given to me by an old friend, I'm trying to be discreet about this friend because if any other found out about their black market dealings they would certainly by tossed in the loony bin. My friend was one of the reasons why I had to fetch that piece of skin, she found it would be useful in her latest experiment of creating something to kill the zombies.