Rot and Rebirth

Chapter One : Síocháin

Swirling tendrils of smoke spun in circles through the air, smoke rings billowing around themselves as they floated into the late afternoon sky. Taking another drag of my lavender mixed joint, the harsh hot smoke leaving my parted pierced lips as I surveyed the woodlands that were becoming dim. Native birds were singing in the numerous trees, their sharp melodies creating a lie of safety in the fading glow of the day. A choked stream poured over itself hastily, the cacophony of watery whispers joining the bird song.

Sighing, smoke mixed with my stress as I breathed out. The stream was hugged by numerous wildflowers and encased by tall grass. Trees stood tall and imposing all around the lake, a dusk breeze rustling their branches. A curly mess of black, silvery periwinkle, and midnight blue long hair flailed around in the wind like an uncoordinated squid. Dragging grey hazel eyes up to the shifting late sky above me, I thought about how I hated this heat, especially now that electricity wasn't particularly plausible.

Skin sticky with sweat caught a break as the previously piercing sun fell behind the thick forest. A lone king parrot chirped on a branch nearby, it's calls cheery and calm.

A guttural snarl interrupted the serene night, shattering the mirage of normalcy as faint dragging feet and groans of what seemed to be pain could be heard in the near distance. Letting out another breath of stress, I pressed my pink pre roll into the mossy log I was seated upon, the rapidly cooling heat expelling a hiss as it burned a small hole into the wood. Dry grass whined under my thick boots as I painfully rose to my shaky feet, "yeah, no." Was my choice of few words as quick but uneven footsteps carried me towards the small boat floating on the lake.

Tossing a look over my knotted shoulders, two slow approaching figures emerged from the treeline. Steadily climbing into the tinnie as I gently pushed off with one of the paddles. Startled fish added to the ripples of movement as I squinted to get a better look at the two zombies.

The first was a woman, her once vibrant orange hair now matted and dull with gore. Presumably once smiling eyes, now glazed and milky. It was hard to distinguish between her tattered floral dress and her shredded rotten meat.

The other was a man, he was following close behind and I humoured a thought that maybe they knew each other before they turned. The long greasy dark hair of the man obscured his falling face, prompting me to lean more towards a lover or friend rather than brother. His starving moans grew more desperate as I left the bank, his chance at a meal being carried away by the lake's current.

Watching as the pair lazily dragged their deteriorating bodies towards the body of water, their pursuit of fresh meat came to an end as they stopped at the lake's bank. Almost as if there was an invisible wall around the bank that forced them out.

The two cadavers soon lost interest as their meal drifted further and further away, my tense hand finally able to leave my sheathed arming sword. Silently watching the woodlands encasing the large stone building, nothing else stirred. The merciless sun continued to ruthlessly blast down, the lack of shade in the boat only amplifying the agony.

One last scan from grey hazel eyes, I decided to retreat to the coolness of the grey stones. Rough handmade metal ladder rungs pressed into my palm, the long ladder rising into the air as I removed the only point of entry.

Green crops washed over the memory of the rank smell of rotten flesh, a flock of chickens nearby clicking to themselves happily. A few coarse cries came from a small group of goats as they were startled by the quick rabbits in the pen next to them. Greeting them all half heartedly, I climbed the second ladder, repeating my removal process.

Finally arriving at my desired destination, my shoulders fell from their previously tenseness, as I gratefully pressed my whole weight into the thick wooden door. Familiar hung dried herbs and flowers greeted me as I locked the door behind me.

The interior of the fortified tower was chilly, offering a much needed escape from the sticky heat outside.

Approaching a large antique lounge, the red embroidered velvet cushions somewhat painfully supported me as I collapsed onto it, fanning myself. The feverish Australian heat drilled sleepiness into my skull, my falling eyelids not helped by the soft fabric. Memories of a simple few weeks ago echoed in my drifting mind, the tower was bustling with LARPers, kids, tourists, and anyone else interested in authentically made mediaeval architecture. The heavy knowledge that most, if not all, of them were dead now, doomed to walk the Earth as an awful undead abomination.

The dim dark chamber was peaceful as the sounds of my heartbeat and sleepy breathing were the only to be found. Dark circled eyelids fluttering closed before shooting open, just to repeat as I fought off slumber.

The sharp sound of something scratching the large reinforced door shook me awake. The whining scrapes rippling through the otherwise noiseless night.