Someone gasps behind me. It's full of surprise and disgust. I peel my lips away from the man's dislocated shoulder. Julie is standing above me, her eyes wide with rage.
She isn't scared, she doesn't run. I can see my reflection in her eyes and I cringe. Blood drips down my chin, specks cover my cheeks. My hair is damp with it. It stains my lips, which hang open numbly. I don't know what to say to her. I direct my eyes to my hands, though I wish I hadn't. They are covered in brains and more blood.
"R," Julie says, bending down cautiously a few feet away from me. "If someone sees you like this… They'll kill you."
I nod, stand up shakily and rub at my cheeks. Julie laughs light-heartedly, her hands reflexively curling around my wrists to drag my hands away. I immediately stop and let her do this. She directs my arms to my sides, then releases her grip. Her hands look as if she dragged them through red paint. She ignores it and nods back in the direction I came from.
"By that… Holding cell, there's a bathroom. We can clean you up there. I'll get Nora and M to handle… Your mess." Julie explains, glancing down at the mid-thirties looking man shredded to pieces on the ground.
"S-s… Sore…" I stutter, licking my lips only to be surprised by an irony taste on my tongue. Blood is still there.
"What?" Julie asks, shoving her eyebrows together as she studies me. My lips quiver, the words jammed in my throat. Say something, say something… Come on.
I gulp, forcing any possible liquids I still might have back into my empty stomach. My dead waste just itching the crawl up and take Julie into its grasp. "Sor… Sor…" I cough, a hand jumping to my throat. Why can't I get the words out? I need to escape her presence. I need to go.
I'm locking myself away. I drag myself into a state of indecision. I creep into the back of my mind, glued to the walls of my own consciousness. It's all I can think of doing. And something's there, laughing at me from inside my own head.
Perry.
Hey, corpse. He says, his voice echoing off and around my brain.
"Perry?" I ask, mistakenly saying it aloud. Julie glares at me, her hands curling as if she is willing to punch me in the nose.
She won't punch you. She's always been a bit high strung with some stuff. But, I'm not here to talk about Jules. I'm here because you're dead… Again, corpse. Welcome back. Perry's voice sounds tired, as if he had just awoken from a day's nap. Maybe that's what a true, absolute death feels like. A dream state with no dreams.
Corpse? I asked you to keep her safe. Not to try and eat her. Perry seems to shift in my head, poking at dead and dusty things that I cannot touch. She can help you again. If you want it bad enough.
I grimace, my eyes slowly fluttering shut. I don't see Julie's reaction, and I wonder if she is beginning to lose hope in me. I still have the blood of the recently dead man on my face. I still killed him. I am a murderer. Perry? I ask as he grows quiet.
A moment of silence and I fear I am alone in my head. Yeah, corpse?
Who is she? I ask.
She's Julie.
I sigh. My body hurts. I'm tired. How am I tired? I don't need sleep. I reopen my eyes, staring down at Julie as she watches me with dry fascination. "Hey," she mumbles and drops a hand on my arm. She squeezes the flesh and let's go. "Come on."
Julie leads me away from the body. I let the memory wander to the back of my mind. It'll surface again, hopefully later on. When I'm alone. When Julie isn't watching me with wide eyes and sharp focus. She brings me passed the cell I had indiscreetly slipped away from. A bloody hand print is smeared onto the latch I smacked away. Julie's blood, Perry corrects me.
I shudder and continue on, her gentle hand finding a place in mine. Her warm fingers absorb my chill; we are two things destined to be apart. Fire and ice. Yet she doesn't let go. She keeps hold, dragging me through the quiet sanctum of what is meant to be a prison area. Or so I think, because several more cells like mine are set up around the perimeter.
I feel something inside me shift, breaking apart old cobwebs that have found their homes tangled around my organs. Dust brushes off my liver, my kidney threatens to burst into motion if I keep going on with my ways. I violate the very strict stereotype of a zombie.
Julie looks back at me, a thin eyebrow raised. She questions my weariness and I offer a shrug in return. She groans and rolls her eyes, facing front again like an eager soldier awaiting her next field mission. She stomps with a pattern, determination in every lift of the knee and focused thought with every drop of the foot.
She isn't willing to speak to me just yet. The warm liquid dripping down my face may be a large factor in why. I take on the task of trying to smear it away as we walk. My hand gains the same, repulsive color as my face. I give up and slowly slide my arm back down and away from my cheeks.
Julie stops, nodding her head towards the concrete building by her side. "I have to get Nora. You'll be fine here until I get back, okay?" Her tone is gentle, as if she is speaking to a child.
How old am I? My build suggests I am around the age of twenty. Call me hopeful. I rather be close to twenty than be stuck in the body of some teenager. I look down at my shoes, then at the cracks impersonating spider-webs on the ground. The stories behind each one, caused by Dead or Living. It still has a story, no matter how it came about.
I look up at Julie and nod. "Okay." I say and watch her walk away. Her hips sway rhythmically as she wanders back to the main road. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut. My brain feels as if it is being pierced by a knife. I groan, my head bobbing from side to side. Is this pain? Am I feeling the distressing sensation of physical suffering? I want it to go away. I want to become numb again. I don't-
Yes you do. You want this. You need this, corpse. It's a memory. It's not bad. Relax into it. Perry is back, his voice drained of emotion. He's tired. He's sick of me. I am what he calls me, I am a corpse. He's stuck in the body of an ageless Dead man. I almost feel bad for him. I don't want you to feel bad for me. I'll get over being dead. And you stealing my watch. Now go clean up.
I feel an ache in my stomach. Perry mentally kicks me into motion. I shuffle out of my trance and drag myself to the bathrooms. The door is propped open a crack, but it takes longer than usual to manage getting it open several more inches. Once in, I look up at the flickering light. It smells exactly like it looks. A bathroom that is in desperate need of a clean. Rust covers the sink and stall doors.
I trudge passed them, the smell already dull to my senses. It is barely there and I continue my hobble to the sink. I find myself thinking why I am even "cleaning up". I am Dead, splashing water on my face will not solve this.
"R?" Julie says softly from the doorway, leaning lightly against the frame. "You okay? You've been standing there for a good four minutes."
I shrug.
"Don't do that." She laughs, pushing away from the entrance to walk towards me. She stops behind me, peaking over my shoulder to look at me through the dirty glass. I shrug again. She laughs louder. "Quit that!" I watch her smile through her reflection. She stares me square in the eyes. I want to look away, but I find myself entranced by the gold.
"How… Clean?" I ask after a long, awkward moment.
Julie bites her lip, placing her hands on my shoulders to spin me around. "Well… First off the blood."
See, corpse? She can help.