The party passed by slowly. I had just about broken down and looked about in a daze. Bonnibel followed my gaze and spoke, but I didn't hear. The world had somehow lost it's color... everything had just gone loose. I didn't think that dying would have been so... crushing. Simon had said something about going far away... but I never knew it was so numbing.

The party ended and I saw Bonnibel and her great-uncle get pulled up and away from this Land of the Dead by the same tendrils of bubblegum that bought them down here. I stare as they ascend and Bonnibel stared back. She had a strange look in her eyes. I looked away, to face those sunken eyes on that skeleton face. The lights bore straight into me.

"Well, Miss Abadeer, I do hope you enjoy your stay."

His raspy tones grated at my insides. My hands balled up reflexively and I trembled slightly as his gloved hand brushed my cheek. He said he'd "take care" of me in sickly, caressing tones. I looked away, to the little demon who was mumbling something about being given away as a present.

I briskly surveyed the horizon of my new home. There was nothing but the bleak colors... as bleak as my future here.

…

"Hey, Marceline! We got some new punks landing in!"

I rolled over to my side as Wendy kicked me again with her ethereal pseudopod. Queasy, I get up while spitting out dust that accumulated in my mouth during my nap. I get up, dust my raggedy jacket I stole from some other guy, and get out of my makeshift tent shelter. Wendy, Booboo, and Georgy stand in a neat line, waiting.

They were ghosts of something that died. We made up some little gang here, to pass the time. There was no way to tell how long I'd been here. These guys are the closest I can call to 'friends'.

My old clothes had worn away. Hambo was gone. I'd left him at the diner. I'd stolen from the dead here to survive. The three ghosts are also hardened criminals here. We fool around here in the Underworld, causing trouble for the others crossing the Land of the Dead. It's a way to pass the time here, since it was an unlimited stay anyway.

I'd grown. It's strange, but since I'd kept my flesh, I aged normally. My hair grew down to my waist and I was definitely taller. Looking in a puddle, I see that I'd gotten a lot more barren and gaunt. My face had gotten mischievous, and my eyes had a burnished kind of light in them. I was in the mood to mess with someone.

"So? Fresh meat?" I nonchalantly chew on a twig.

Booboo's top head bobs and his lower head nods. He laughs with a sort of crooked smile. Georgy chuckles approvingly and gives me a thumbs up. Wendy looks over the edge of our hideout's ledge where the line of the dead stretch endlessly. The newcomers to the Land of the Dead need a proper initiation.

"Let's go."

Wendy clasps my arms and helps me fly. The four of us descend the ledge at a horrifying speed. Wind blows past me and I feel an escalating level of excitement. I begin cackling, alerting the dead below to our arrival. They scatter as we swoop down and knock one skull off it's vertebrae. We make short work of the crowd and sit down, laughing.

"Whoo, did you see how they started running? One fell off his own feet... literally!" Booboo's second head amplifies his laughter. The rest of us follow in unison, filling the trench with echoes of cackles. I stop laughing first and excuse myself from the merriment.

The dead hordes formed colonies of burrows and communities of earthen homes where they rest. We've raided a few, but it was only fun at first. Actually, everything's become a bit dull. I'm beginning to think I'm turning into one of these skeletons, only with flesh still on my bones. Time is slowing down... and I'm beginning to grow tired. Lifeless...

Booboo, Wendy, and Georgy are okay with it. They seem to have lost taste for anything other than making others miserable, but their desire keeps them fresh as I slow down. This place is a dead-end. Since I'm here, I'm wondering what's been going on above.

How old am I now? Is Bonnibel queen now? Where's Dad? And Hambo?

One thought lingered above the rest: Is Simon okay?

I fell apart and begin to cry. There is nothing here...

The moist dirt wet my shins and I try to be as quiet as possible. The castle lies stretched in front of me and it shines, brief and bright. Death suddenly appears before me. I feel Wendy and the others looking from behind some rubble. The presence of Death can draw or repel the dead.

Death stares before he speaks. His voice is still the same as I remember, "Enjoying your stay?"

I stare back defiantly, hardened by experience. I wanted to punch him in the face, but I held back. He continued.

"Spoke to your dad over some tea. Charming guy. He, erm, mentioned a... bargain."Stubborn hope leaps in my chest as I try to remain composed. Death continued.

"He wants you out. Heh, and he's got a sharp mind, that Hunson. Found a loophole right away..."

He tips his hat and smiles wryly under his hat. As he is about to complete his statement, a familiar hand appears on his shoulder. I see the face of my father appear from behind. I make a small sound. He hasn't changed at all. Death turned with surprise and an expression of disgust and fear covered his bony face. The smell of the Nightosphere permeated and my dad spoke, contorting his lips into a smile full of sharp teeth.

"The Undead Rule. Marcy, you are getting out of here. But to do so, you must not be dead. And how to do that?" He snapped his fingers at me, much to Death's annoyance.

"Well, you definitely can't be alive again. So the only answer is... Undead!" He grins like it's such great news.

Death takes a deep breath and coughs. He speaks while keeping his eyes on my dad, "Basically, you have a choice here. Become a zombie or whatever and leave, or stay dead here. What'll it be?"

My throat runs dry when I look at the lose-lose situation. A zombie would stink bread balls. But here is no picnic either. My dad quipped for me.

"We'll take the departure, thank you very much," He winked at me when I tried to protest.

Death sighed. He led the two of us to a cave beyond a fence of bones. The sign was too scratched up to read. From the corner of my eye, I saw the three ghosts follow me out of curiosity. But none of them were willing to get close. Some friends.

"Here we are. Vampire Caverns."

A flurry of bats flew past us as Death stepped into the gaping opening. It was insanely dark and I was beginning to wonder if I could still stay. A stench of iron and salt made me sick. My dad walked ahead, dodging dead corpses and stalagmites like it was nothing.

The dark tunnel lead to a single flame that was all the way across a huge domed cave. At this point, Wendy and the others had turned tail and left me to my fate. I'd heard of vampires before from Simon. He said they were some sort of magic creature that existed for drinking blood and killing people. The pictures were more or less shriveled people with a constipated look on their face. I did not want to become a prune, so I tried to back out at the last minute.

"Umm... Is this really such a good idea, dad?" I tug on his sleeve, hopeful that he'd listen. He merely gripped my wrist and began pulling me towards the flame. As we neared the center of the room, a ring of dim torches further illuminated the cave. Death lingered by the entrance, his glowing orbs following our movement.

I dug my heels in a futile effort to resist. Dad's iron grip wouldn't loosen. A throne of earth protruded from a space next to the brightest torch in front of us. A black shadow creeps along the uneven cracks of the wall an manifests into a mass of black sludge that eventually forms a decrepit old guy sitting on the throne. He has shades and a black cape with red underlining. It wasn't that he was old, but he looked … worn.

I got an icy feeling just standing in front of him. As I struggled, my dad confabulated with him like an old friend.

"Hey there, Vampire king," he says cheerfully, "I was wondering if you could, y'know, give my daughter here a makeover."

The king slowly twisted his creaky neck to look me in the eye. I averted my gaze. His stare was red and menacing. Soundlessly, he got up and glided towards us. I made a desperate grab for my dad's coat, but he slipped back to the entryway, leaving me to fend for myself.

The old King's breath was worse than the tunnel's stench. He breathes raggedly, I feel his breath on my face as I stand immobilized by fear. His cold clammy hand pressed on my shoulder while the other one covers my eyes.

With sudden gusto, he wrestled me to the ground. The shock enabled me to resist, but squirm as I may, his hand clamped tight on my shoulders and wouldn't let go. I was trapped.

He opened his mouth and I thought I'd pass out from the stink. His canines were long and sharp like knives. I felt sweat bead on my forehead as my heart threatened to explode. Before the decisive moment, the King smiled wordlessly, mysteriously. Then he bent down, with his hissing next to my left ear.

I felt a sharp pain on my neck, and my body caught fire. Pain licked away at my limbs, and I stiffened at the horrific sensation. I arched and convulsed, screaming and crying. Through my pain-tinged vision, I saw the king, with red dribbling down his chin. I saw my dad and Death... just standing there... They were saying something, but I couldn't hear through all the agony...

The pain flared and ebbed unpredictably. I don't know how long I writhed until I was too tired to move or scream anymore. The King held a silver chalice above me and subsequently poured it out on my face. Some of it entered my mouth, and it was delicious. The drink freshened my aching body and I hungered for more. I lapped like a dog as he poured out every drop.

When there was no more, I sat up, dumbstruck and wide-eyed, with a strange sensation tingling at every corner of my body. The King had slumped back into his chair wearily and my father approached.

"Well, ya did it, Marcy!"

A flash of red. A blur of rage. Suddenly I'm on top of my dad with my hands clawing at his throat. He easily kicked me off and began dusting himself. I landed on the dirt floor on all fours. In realization, I pulled myself up and my voice returned.

"What... What happened to me...?"

Death snickered and my dad answered, "Marcy, you're undead now. You're a vampire."

Vampire. "What?!"

"Well, you're actually vampire queen, but-"

"Arrrgh!" I lunged at him and missed. He smiled jeeringly.

"Why so sad? Aren't you happy? You've got power now! Strength! The power to tear souls apart!"

"But I didn't want to-!" I cover my own mouth for fear I'd cry. There was such a rush right now, too much to process, and this … my dad just...

"Get out of here, Abadeer," Death spat on the floor, "And you're free to go, Miss Abadeer."

I could only stand there in a daze, trying not to cry. I was happy, confused... and about a ton of other emotions all at once. My knees crumpled beneath me and I sat there, kneeling. My father effortlessly lifted my listless body up and a darkness enveloped us. At that moment, I knew I was no longer in the Underworld. I was not a denizen of the Dead anymore.

I'd escaped death...

But why do I still feel so trapped?