Ashes of Vile

15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Bloodline Lapse

Abourne and Zakeen took the liberty in hunting the peculiar Betty Blaque's grave. They had resorted to the best option in consideration of the factors that had befallen on them. The first on their route was the famous main cemetery of Ashgrim, and after many rounds of thorough check, they were unable to find it. Infact, it was hard to find a grave with a corpse named Betty. And to think of such a wide world with not a single one named Betty in many years time.

The second spot that came into their minds was an enclosed spot close to a forest. Although there was not a single forest in Ashgrim, there was an open space filled with tall grass and a noisy ground wherein the inner works of Ashgrim worked: pipes, water filling, machinery, and the kinds of iron works that would keep one up at midnight. It was not an ideal burial for someone of a higher hierarchy than a regular walker of Ashgrim, but it was definitely somewhere the ordinary wouldn't peek. And Betty Blaque seemed far out of ordinary. Someone who was hard to reach.

The two shuffled through the tall grass and occasionally stopped to listen closely, filled with a bit of paranoia. It was such a large space with not a single crowd; in fact not a single person. But even such a spacious area could cause their heads to turn at even the smallest sound. They also scratched and itched from time to time, feeling the tingling sensation of the grass touching up their forearms. Zakeen and Abourne did the sane thing by wearing long pants, but it seemed their knowledge ran half up its percentage as the two decided to wear plain shirts, completely exposing their arms. But they never expected to have to go to such a place. It was plain and simple: look for a dead decayed body where all dead bodies go. But Betty Blaque was tougher than she seemed.

Betty Blaque was an odd soul, seeming to be someone who was just a dust of death that never entered the bubble of existence. Finding Betty Blaque's grave was not an easy task. A fraud of a grave. That's what it was. It was easy to tell she was not just a regular person in Ashgrim. She had seen its downfall, had seen it before it was built to its esteem. To lay on a land that held no pride and was a strange lonesome place to be buried, it meant more than it should. She was an important person, and although the landscape itself could not speak the value of its meaning, she was hidden with the intention of being far from where civilization kept to themselves. Where Ashgrim was Ashgrim to its soul.

Abourne eyed the ground with hardened soil wherein the wind blew softly on the yellow flag with white stripes. The flag was small, almost hard to spot; But it was placed with the aim for it to be seen. Zakeen looked at Abourne and followed the direction of her eyes. His shoulders relaxed from tension and he approached Abourne slowly, and attempted to pull out the shovel from her hands. But Abourne held tight to the shovel and looked into Zakeen's eyes. She shook her head, hinting a refusal. She kneeled down in front of the flag and said, "I think this is it."

Abourne looked at Zakeen and pushed to explain further, realizing she might've looked insane for having such a presumption over such an unknown thing. But Zakeen only nodded his head and said, "Go for it. I know. I trust you, Bo." Abourne smiled and dropped the shovel onto the spot where the flag recently was stuck onto for many years. "Zakeen, you know I could never let you hurt your precious hands." Abourne smiled. "Can't tire the remarkable hands, right?" Zakeen smirked. Abourne broke into a huge smile and dropped her head down, the sides of her hair graciously falling out of her ponytail and covering bits of her face, away from the embarrassment of pink slipping towards her cheeks. She grumbled as she threw the rocky soil harshly towards her back, sprung form the shovel she held. She had finally scooped the last bits of buried material and there laid a coffin that was nothing like the commonly used modern structures and mediums.