Dance of the Dead

Chapter 1

Warnings: Cursing, Necromancy, yaoi/slash, ext.

Comment: Christian doesn't believe in God and makes comments and dose things that would most likely offend Christians. So if you dont like it, then don't read it.


Christian waited, and then entered the house cautiously while looking back and forth for either of his 'parents'. He didn't really consider either of them 'parents' since he had been to so many foster homes in his life time that he had stopped even trying to fit in with them. His real parents had died when he was two and no-one seemed to have wanted him since then, and for good reason too.

He believed in no God because no God could ever condone for what he had done and could yet do. Christian was different from the other boys and girls. He was weird. He was strange, and quite frankly he scared the shit out of everyone around him. He was living in New Orleans because the last city he was in would not allow him anywhere near city limits. It had not been his fault, but they could not see it. they could only see the horror and terror he had caused.

Christian was a necromancer, and a powerful one at that. A few years ago, when he was about eight or nine, he had accidentally called the dead back to him. His parent arose from their murky graves and crawled limpingly threw the streets. Following him, and tracking his call as their rotten flesh attracted flies and fell off at random intervals. people screamed, and then ran away, terrified by what they had seen. It was like being an actor in 'The Night of the Living Dead' except this time the zombies were real, and they killed. They killed whoever they came across, whoever got in their way.

They made their way strait to him, crawling and moaning like a scene out of someone's worst nightmare, or something out of hell. Their empty eye sockets looked up at him, pleading to him as though he were their God. Christian was terrified, yet innerly rejoicing. His parents had returned, but as what? Monsters. They were monsters and he hated them, and for that, he hated himself as well.

He shook his head and pulled himself out of his memories, as he had no need for them here. No one here knew of hi past and he planned to keep it that way. Stepping inside he shut the door behind him and trugged up the old creaking stairs before cringing and coming to a stop as a voice rang out from down below. "Christian Morningstar! Where have you been?!" A middle age woman somewhere around her 30's or 40's stood at the bottom of the stairs with her hands placed upon her thin hips, a firm scowl upon her lips. "Do you know how late it is young man?!" He glanced down at his imaginary watch and looked back at her boredly. "Time for another one of your bitch sessions I see. What the fuck do you care where I was?" He turned around and continued walking up the stairs, ignoring her shouts of his name behind him.

He slammed the door of his room and locked the deadbolt in that he had earlier installed himself after his foster father walked in of him while he was changing. He could have sworn that bastard had done in on purpose as well. He flipped the switch on his stereo and turned up the volume to full max before falling down upon his bed and burying himself in his pillows and blankets.

Today had been yet another rotten day. First of all, in Mrs. Jackston's they had to choose partners for a project and of coarse no-one wanted to be teamed up with him. Not that he wanted to be with anyone of them as well. Unfortunately for him there was an even number of students and they weren't allowed to work alone so he was stuck with some stuck up prick named something that he did not know. Even worse was the topic they had to do: Teen Pregnancy. Teen pregnancy! Why the hell would that bitch of a teacher give the topic of teen pregnancy to two guys?! The hell with that! No way was he going to do ANY of the work on that shit! He didn't even like girls!

He rolled over onto his back and sighed, throwing an arm over his eyes to hide his cracked white plaster ceiling. Staying there for a moment he tried to keep his mind blank but failed as it kept wandering. Christian sighed and growled to himself before rolling back over and leaning over the bed to search threw the unknown wonders underneath it. He pulled out a large black box and heaved it onto his bed before opening it and taking out a smaller white box in which he kept a box of matches, a knife, and a few candles. He took out a match and light it against the box before taking out the knife and putting the flame under it. He waited for a few minutes for the blade to heat up before blowing out the match and rolling up the long black sleeve on his left arm and bringing it down upon his skin and cutting into his flesh. Christian inhaled sharply at the sensation and closed his eyes while in time biting his lip to keep from gasping loudly.

He stopped cutting and licked the blood off of his wound before putting the knife and unused matches back into the white box before taking out his med kit and wrapping his arm up in gauze and rolling his sleeve back down. Christian put everything back into the black box and tiredly shoved everything back under his bed. It had been a long day and he didn't want to get up in the morning.

Reaching over he put on his headphones and turned off his stereo before burying himself back in his sheets. A small hissing sound caught his attention before he turned on his music and he silently told it to go to sleep. He didn't want to deal with the class snake ha had stolen and brought home with him right now. Christian was sure the teacher would have noticed it was missing by tomorrow but it was better to leave her wondering then to have her know the truth about it. The truth that her snake had actually died today, and that Christian had accidentally brought it back. He sighed and turned his music on all the way before falling asleep, wishing that he knew how the hell to send it back to the grave.