Dead Souls

Chapter Two

Meredith slows her breathing with reminders of the air entering her lungs. She has trained for this, she's encountered far worse in her independence throughout the years. There's a good chance this is old, and the unalive has since departed.

Meredith cranes her neck farther through the doorway to inspect more before making a step. On the opposite wall from the door stands a fridge with ABC magnets scattered across the front of it. The bloodied marks stretch across the floor to her blindside of the fridge. Knowing that this is an older home, Meredith is guessing the marks lead to a basement door that is hidden by the fridge. As much as she hopes this is old, there is a lack of debris from the open door and the reek of rotting flesh is potent within the small space.

Although Meredith has been surviving the unalive for the past three years, she still has little knowledge of them. She knows what kills them- a clean sweep across the neckline to separate what once was a human head from a now soulless body. But other than this bit of knowledge, there is little to know of their habits or senses. She is aware that they have a keen sense of hearing. Eyesight is questionable, as their eyes tend to be glossed over by god knows what. An unalive's sense of smell is their strongest scent which is ultimately what keeps Meredith on the run. Remaining odorless takes a special routine to ensure each night before sleep and every morning before sunshine. Despite the lack of research behind it, she's survived this long.

Meredith enters the kitchen, careful of each floorboard, searching with the tip of her foot for any sign of weakness. She creeps forward a couple steps, enough to see where the drag marks lead. She was right- there's a basement door cracked open wide enough to fit an unalive dragging whatever kill it scored. Letting her eyes adjust to the darkened doorway, Meredith notes the lack of movement and noise. She creeps forward as quiet as a mouse. A warm summer breeze whips past the doorway and rustles her hair tucked behind her ear. She adjusts the ball cap covering her long waves. Out of the corner of her eye, Meredith sees the movement before her brain has time to process what's happening. One minute she's upright, caught in the whiff of sunflower fields across from the horse pasture bordering the home. The next, she's on her back, slightly dazed, trying to recall what 2 + 2 is. A sticky air fills the room and the smell of death hovers over her, trying to claw at her face. Thankfully, Meredith's body reacted to danger far sooner than her mind. She has the unalives arms pinned above her as drool escapes it's crooked jaw and onto her cheek. Disgust doesn't have time to make an appearance as Meredith's brain catches up to speed. Her hunting knife is tucked in the side of her leather boot. A Colt 45 lies at her hip on the opposite side. If she could pin the unalives arms in one of her hands, she could possibly reach one or the other and do some damage. Or at the least, stun the beast.

Adrenaline begins to course through Meredith as she acknowledges the gain the unalive is making on her. The crooked jaw that once belonged to what appears to be a man, is moving from side to side. Moans are escaping it, along with the slimy drool. Meredith grunts and moves to flip it to the side. The creature doesn't budge. Grunting again, Meredith begins to rotate her shoulder blades from one side to the other, creating momentum in her movement. On the count of three, she will give all her strength to the left side to remove the unalive from the top of her. 1... the unalive inches closer to her face- 2.... Her arms start to weaken as the weight of the unalive becomes too much... 3- a slash through the air and thick wetness douses her just as she's about to throw the unalive. A faint rolling on the kitchen floor indicates the unalive no longer bares a head.

In shock, Meredith glances to where the head used to be and sees a tall stature standing above her, with a bandana covering a broad jaw, followed by broad shoulders and strong arms. Veins run up and down the exposed skin of the forearm followed by a glinting hunting blade with thick substance from the unalive slathered on the blade.

Yet, this is not what captures Meredith's attention. Peering back at her are the most captivating sea green colored eyes, unblinking. A brown tuft of hair falls across his forehead, bringing her back to the unalive atop her.

"You reek," the male mutters.