2Author's Note: Hey guys, Shik here. I'm not totally gone from the writing scene. Really I just haven't been writing anything worth while to post. This however peaked my interest when it came to mind. For those of you who want to know, the idea came from a mix of the movie Warm Bodies (a romantic and slightly gory zombie love movie) and a few mixtures of stories from here. The idea of redemption after all hope seems lost was an idea that struck me and of course being who I am I think love cures everything in stories as well. There are some of the lines have hidden song lyrics so please enjoy those and don't get to grumbly from my cheesy parts. This is a slash/yaoi/man love story so the characters are mostly men. Should you be one of those people who stumbled here that's your only warning. For those of you returning readers, I frickin love you. Thank you for not giving up on me! As always, please forgive my grammar, and patiently correct me. I am still having an argument with the English language (insert cheesy author laugh). Without farther adu, enjoy Til Death do us Part.
~Shik
Chapter One: Death has Already Parted Us
The dead aren't supposed to feel. Some rule in the cosmos decided that once your life has ended that you don't get to enjoy the feeling of living anymore. Then again most dead don't stick around in their own bodies. More often they are incorporeal and incapable of interacting with those but a select. Most of the dead don't have quite have the raw determination it takes to keep breathing even after all the lights have turned off and they've been buried. Of course it helps when you don't have to dig yourself out of a coffin and scare the grave keeper who was finishing your burial. Luckily though the undead thing wasn't contagious, otherwise that grave keeper would be alive again after an experimental bite. Most of the time if you were undead though, you were on a mission, something that you didn't get done in life. Problem was, when your mission was to tell a guy who probably didn't even know you existed that you loved him…it made things hard. Especially when the longer you lasted in your undead state the more you forgot. Then you'd end up like me.
I used to have a name but I forgot it somewhere in the midst of time. I don't even remember how long I've been like this. All I remember is I have to tell him. I don't remember how to find him. I've been searching around the area for him for what feels like ages. He probably left for college though. We were leaving for that when this happened. Well when death happened. I remember thinking about him when I died. I remember thinking about how he would never know now that I loved him. Of course he'll either freak out and scream when I find him again or not remember me. My undead heart gave a beat. It did that every once in a while when my heart would have raced. I would break into pieces if that happened. He had to remember me. Not that I remembered me but he had to. Closing my eyes I sighed, pulling the hood of my sweatshirt up over my head. My hair grew ridiculously fast now that all these cells in me were dead, so did my nails for that matter. I found no reason to cut my hair and found that I tended to avoid live people as much as I could. I ate live mice and rats because for some reason I had to eat living things to keep my body balanced. I had cravings to eat humans like one of those horror movies but for the most part I ignored those cravings. There was a bite mark on one poor grave keeper but I hoped that didn't count. He was dead before I bit him at least.
Continuing down the street I once knew, I stopped only once because of the group of rowdy drunks. People tended to freak out when they saw me. I looked dead. I wasn't rotting or anything horrible but I wasn't normal looking. My lips and tongue were blue; one the color of hypothermic proportions and the other was the color of a blueberry suicide. My skin was an off gray color, looking just as dead as I was. One of my eyes had died out, leaving a chalky white film over the deadened eye behind. I was blind out of that eye but so far it hadn't bothered me. As long as I could still see I would find him. Curling my midnight hair back under the hood I growled, I would never find him at this rate. I could only search at night and he could be here or in some other city. Pulling the hood up to cover my face I slid back out onto the sidewalk. This late at night only the bars were open and still thriving by the looks of it. Most nights I would peak through a window or door to see if I could find him but this night was different.
There was a new bar that had opened up in our town. The line was backed well onto the street, filled mostly with men; men who dressed awfully nice to be visiting some town in the conservative Midwest. Music filtered out through the doors, lights showing though the tinted windows. It was packed compared to the other bars. Curiosity was a hit or miss thing while being dead I had found. Sometimes I would find myself like a cat, curious enough to do things that would endanger a normal person. Other times however, I found that nothing could interest me. This bar had caught my interest however; even the name of it struck me as odd. The Blind Zombie. Was that cosmic irony or had I been found out? I got about as much attention dead as I did while I was alive, which wasn't much. I don't remember my name or that of the people around me. I don't remember the year or time. But, I do remember that I was for the most part ignored. No one ever really saw me. No one ever really spoke to me. I was just a warm body there in a school. Teachers would forget about me and so would other students. I guess that was why it happened. I don't know if I mentioned it but I killed myself.
Ironic isn't it? I, who was talking about how my determination alone kept me going, killed myself. I did it mostly because no one would miss me. I was ignored by friends and family. I was average and blended in with the crowd easily. I guess that's why I fell in love with him. He was never ignored. You know the cliché; shy unattractive gay man goes for the beautiful blond jock out of his reach. He was the first one to notice me though. We had been grouped together and instead of just telling me what to do, he asked. It didn't seem like much to the normal person but that got me. Even after the project was over he kept talking to me. The Greek Adonis kept speaking to the one who never existed. At least until something happened. All of the sudden his attention stopped. His friends pinned and beat me. They called me names. I knew he saw the bruises. He ignored them and me. Funny the beatings I could handle. It was attention of some sort but his blatant sudden rejection of me hurt the most. A few other things went wrong before I finally wanted to end it. The usual stuff happened, you know, such as death, abuse, and failure. I took my life by slitting my wrists. I left a note but it didn't say much. I'm sorry I couldn't fight it anymore.
Shaking my head to clear my thoughts I stared at the doorway, watching the bouncers for a moment before I walked right in past them and into the bar. Lights flowed throughout the bar, pushing up against each other in sweaty grinding and dancing. The music pulsed, heavy bass thumping though the speakers. Each beat thumped in time with the hearts on the dance floor. The passing craving for flesh brushed over me but I ignored it. I had just fed on some rodents before I had gotten here. Sitting back in a dark booth I watched the crowd. A waiter brought me a beer but other than that I was unbothered and unseen. Then again this night had brought me to this bar so maybe I shouldn't have been so surprise when in my watching I was met with a pair of predatory green eyes.
Those eyes widened when met with my mismatched gaze but instead of looking away like most people would have done, he smirked. He was back behind the bar, helping the three bartenders with the crowd that had flooded the club. He wore his long blonde hair in a high ponytail, the hair trailing down to his ass. He stood taller than the other three bartenders and had a wider frame that thinned into a muscular waist. Tattoos covered his arms, but what caught my attention most was the collar. That's right. He had on a spiked dog collar with dog tags underneath. The blonde turned his gaze away, speaking to the bartender beside him before excusing himself from behind the bar. He made his way to my booth, sliding in with ease of one who did this often.
"I must be blind." The blonde spoke, his soft full lips forming the words clearly so that I could see them as well as hear them.
"Oh?" I took a drink out of my mug to hide my smile. I was charmed already.
"I thought I saw an angel walk in here." His mouth held a smirk as his body leaned closer. He was flirting and I knew that it was a pickup line but he could be listing off the states for all my body cared. That voice as smooth as velvet coming out of those teasing lips was enough to make me pay attention. Since my body wasn't pumping blood though it would be hard to give him what he so obviously wanted.
I seemed to have some effect on him though, his crotch had swollen and twitched as I spoke, "I didn't see an angel but I did see one demon."
Our banter went on for a while longer, his body scooting closer to me until somewhere in that time he decided to slide his hand down my pants. This was far better. Though my voice seemed to do something for him, I didn't like speaking. After dying my voice had gotten slower and harder to push out; it was like I was forgetting how to speak the longer I went without. His hand seemed to be bringing back to life as it turned me on. Each stroke seemed to bring out a heartbeat, each kiss another, until we were making out and well tangled together with my hard erection between us. He didn't stop there though; the blonde deviant instead stopped our make-out session to slide his mouth around my cock. Groaning I ignored the sounds of the club around us, the dancing bodies and the red lights flashing. He swirled his tongue around my cock, warming my erection up so the blood throbbed. Each panting breath I felt that much more alive. When he felt my cock was well enough lathered up, he slid his body back up from under the table, stealing my lips again before tucking away my cock.
Lips whispered over mine as he spoke the most seductive words. I followed, my brain well fogged with lust. My senses flared to life, a low growl leaving my throat at the thought of having sex with this deviant who had been making me come alive and turned me on. Hips swayed before me, leading me into an unoccupied stall before pushing me up again the wall and devouring my mouth. Fingers fumbled in my hair, using the black strands to pull my head back to devour my neck. We ground our groins together growling and groaning a while before he undid my jeans, sliding my cock out again. Using his lips, he applied the condom, unrolling it onto my hot shaft while my heart continued to beat. I felt like he was killing me again but I couldn't form the words for this kind of torture. Maybe he thought my growling was enough of a hint though because it wasn't long before the lube followed on my cock and a quick application onto his ass.
I would like to tell you that my humanity won out on this round. That I was a gentleman in that bathroom but that would be a lie. I was an animal then. The dark side of me that kept growing the longer I stumbled around undead led me now. Where normally it tempted me to eat someone or something, this time was for a different purpose. I let him slid onto me, my growls and moans escaping my mouth as I held onto his hips for dear life. This was no way in hell I was going to give up this position fucking this blonde deviant. I started slow, shaking in an attempt to hold back. That didn't last long. The undead beast inside me howled, slipping the reins as the man below me begged like a whore.
It didn't take long until I was pounding into him, using that blonde ponytail as a handle to steer his face back so I could kiss him. Neither of us were saying much. Not that I really had said all that much after he brought my cock back to life. The beast couldn't have enough of him though, watching someone who was larger than me being speared by my cock was sexy. The wanton begging just made it more so and all of my fantasies that I had of that jock were pushed back as I fucked this deviant sex god. He was the only person who had this reaction to me though, even though he was moaning some other man's name as I pounded into him. Travis. I would have been more offended if I actually remembered a name to correct him with. Perhaps being dead made me care less about useless crap like an ego as well. I pegged his prostate over and over until we both came hard.
My orgasm raged through me in waves as a white light stole my vision. It was like I had stared into the sun and it had blinded me. A name rang behind my eyes, in a sound of a scream, Travis Arthur Baker. Was that my name or was it the name of the man who I was looking for? It didn't matter. Coming down off my high I panted, my cock going soft and slipping out of that tight ass. Semen dripped out as I blushed slightly. Way to break the condom there, Romeo. I was lucky enough to get laid and this happened. The undead beast in me purred at the sight. I had marked this man as mine. I had to remind myself that I was dead and I technically couldn't give or get anything. It wasn't like I had a whole lot of sex either. Using the toilet paper, I cleaned both of us up, redressing us as my sexual partner recovered. As I sat the blonde man up though, I noticed something else: I had bitten him.
I mentioned before that my zombie state isn't something that I can give to anyone. You have to be pretty damn determined to live after your body gives out. However that didn't mean that I didn't have to be careful. My choppers were made for consuming flesh. Human flesh, if my craving were to be believed. I had the same kind of teeth as a shark, though not as obscenely large. All my teeth were pointed and for tearing but they were the same size as everyone else's.
I fiddled with my clothing as my companion finally gained his wits about him again. At least I would have continued doing that had there not been another flash from my beast. Pulling a sharpie from his pants I signed a name onto the bite mark. I was careful not to get any ink into the wound but hell if I didn't display the name proudly. Of course I didn't know if Travis really was my name but it sounded good and it was what my hand wrote. When the human and I left the bathroom I couldn't help a smirk. The man was walking back to the bar with a limp and elegant scrawl over his shoulder. Sliding out into the night I continued out into the night. I was a little less shuffling but that wouldn't last. Neither would the memory of that name.
Travis Arthur Baker.