Kingdom of the Undead

Chapter 1

She walked stealthily, like a phantom in the darkness. The gloom had spun a cocoon around the world but it didn’t bother her. What could bother someone who couldn’t die? Some would consider immortality a blessing, but for her it was a curse of the most dreadful sort. She couldn’t die. Well of course she could be killed but instead of dying she would just end up back in Altura. ‘The Kingdom of the Undead’ she called it, while others would say ‘Limbo’.

Life had mocked her since the beginning, killing her parents while she was an infant. Bouncing from one foster home to another she had lived through difficult days and as if that wasn’t enough already, life gave her one final jab in the gut; killed her before she could live a fulfilled life. Not any glorious death, just a smear on the pavement like no one special. Or so she had thought, until she woke up in Altura: The limbo between worlds. Although she had died, she couldn’t go on. She had to live there for eternity. But she wasn’t going to give up so easily. She had spent every moment of her existence rebelling against the atrocities of life. She wasn’t going to let it have the last laugh and rob her off of death itself. So she would travel back to earth, to die one more time. She thought her death was faulty and if she could die the proper way, she would be free of Altura.

Her nightly excursions were a secret The Thirteen could never find out about. Travelling the worlds was forbidden in Altura. As if anyone could travel anywhere other than back to earth. But it was her last hope and she clung to it fiercely.

And so here she was, in places people dared not venture to, searching for death. The narrow walls of the alley closed in around her like a cage and the mist swirled in her hair. The air stank of dread but she trudged on. She didn’t have to go much further; a hand shot out and pulled her into dead end. The assailant shoved her up against the wall; a glint of steel in his hand caught her eye. ‘Ah knife! Haven’t had that in a while,’ she thought. The blade felt cold pressed against her neck making a shiver run down her spine. ‘Perhaps this was not the best plan after all.’ The green eyes of the man shone with the madness of a psychopath. She contemplated reaching for her vial of poison if he intended to do something worse than killing her, but her hands were trapped behind her back and there was no way to break free from his grip. Fear clouded her mind but the words came out of their own accord, “Go ahead. Kill me.”

His knife pressed slightly against her skin and a single drop of blood oozed out. “Now that would just be a waste of pretty,” he said in his deep voice. Even through the haze of dread she couldn't help thinking how sensuous his voice was. Another shiver ran down her spine. He took off his ski mask and if there was any air left in her lungs she would have gasped. His face was sculpted into utter perfection marred by a single scar that ran from his temple to the cheekbone. His brown hair stuck up in spikes in every direction. He leaned down and licked the blood off her neck. Her body reacted instantly to his touch as her heart picked up a reckless tempo.

He cocked his head to the side and took her in. “Such a waste indeed.” She had never felt so exposed in her entire life as she did now. His tongue flicked out to catch another drop of blood that had gathered on the cut. Her breath caught in her throat as his tongue travelled up her neck to her chin and finally to her lips. She tasted her own blood as his lips closed over hers. And then it was over as quickly as it had begun. He released her, “I’m not the one should be afraid of. Run before they get you.”  She didn't need telling twice, taking in one last look at him she ran down a corner and gulped the contents of her vial.