Something within her told her that she had to get up - it wasn’t a matter of whether she wished to or not. This unrelenting force was driving her to open her eyes or to at least lift a finger to which the latter she seemed to be able to do. However, it was as if her very joints were made of stone, cracks emanated from her index as Ripley let out a muffled breath of pain. She then realized that her mouth was sewn shut with a slim, frayed string. Her eyelids were given the same treatment. 

A quick hand jumped up to her face in panic, the grogginess and lethargy of sleep finally sweeping away to only leave behind fragments of anxiety that soon bloomed into large patches of utter shock and mania. Why were her mouth and eyelids sewn shut? Where was she? Why was it so cold? She went to sit up but another muffled shout seeped through the cracks of her restraints as her forehead hit something hard. She pushed out a hand, the feel of a cool, sleek surface filling her senses. 

She balled up her fist and began to bang against it, her shouts for help nothing but grunts and smothered yelling. However, just when Ripley thought that she would be stuck here forever, she heard a snap and a long creak as the surface she was feeling retreated from her grasp. The sudden intrusion of natural lighting filtered through the thin skin of her eyelids, Ripley quickly shying her face away from it. 

Her fingers found their way to her eyelids, Ripley finding the knotted end of the string. With some coaxing, she was able to undue the thankfully loose knot and she pulled at it. Deep, ragged breaths entered and exited through her nose as the pain and discomfort pooled from her eye to the back of her head. 

Finally, the string dropped into the palm of her hand with a soft squish, the once beige hue now turned a deep, wine red. 

Her now free eyelid fluttered open and she could get a sense of where she was. Rubbing her eye to make her overly blurry vision stable again, black splotches turned into golden grains. As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but dunes of sand. Ripley looked down at where she was and honestly felt a macabre emotion; she had been placed in a coffin. 

As much as she tried to figure out just how in the world she ended up here, it only seemed to bring her great pain. Not only did she retain a headache but she even began to experience body chills. A shiver crawled up her spine, Ripley unable to restrain her shudder. 

Before anything else, she needed to get the rest of this stuff off of her. She went to raise her hand to undo the other string but stopped when she noticed something strange; she was a completely different color! She could at least remember that being green was not normal. She quickly undid her other eyelid and her mouth. 

Opening up her jaw was a bit of a challenge. It would get stuck at points and she would have to snap it back into position. Her throat was dry as hell and her lips felt cracked and arid. She clacked her teeth together, rotating her bottom jaw in a circular motion to loosen it up once more. 

A dry cough left her throat, Ripley clearing it as she let out sounds to see if she still had her voice. It was raspy but at least she could still communicate if she wanted to. But, looking around, she couldn’t help but wonder if she would even find anything. There was nothing but sand, Ripley completely confused on how she ended up in the desert in the first place. Much less on how she got into this coffin. 

She looked at her emerald colored skin once more. Ripley guessed that perhaps she had died and somehow she was back. But, how did she die? She couldn’t remember anything before she woke up. However, she knew that freaking out and having an existential crisis now would not help her figure things out. However, she needed a plan. 

Ripley then noticed a ragged cloak at her side which was accompanied by a mask, the young woman wondering if perhaps she had a benefactor. But why wouldn’t they stay behind? Help her figure out what happened. She sighed, going to stand only to fall back onto her ass with a hard plop. 

“Fuck!” Ripley grunted, her tailbone singing with pain. “Fuckin…Ugh!” Ripley couldn’t believe it. She felt like a toddler learning how to walk again. She placed both hands on the edges of her coffin, slowly raising herself on shaky legs. Finding her balance, she stood there for a little bit to strengthen her muscles. If she was once dead she wondered just how long it had been since her death. If she was green, had it been awhile? 

She slipped the cloak over her shoulders, pulling the hood over her head. She slipped the clay mask over her face, it being a perfect fit. Yes, this will work for now.

She stepped out of her coffin, the zombie taking a few steps before turning to look at her container. It even looked like someone had dug her out as there was a large hole right next to her coffin. Not even a note? She will need to have a word with whoever is “helping” her if she ever comes across them. 

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Suddenly, the pang of something familiar seeped from within her chest. At first she had no idea how in the world she was going to find her way out of this desert, but now she knew exactly where to go; to a city that lay on the border of a great forest and the vast sea of sand.

She began her trek, hoping to find the answer of just what happened to her in this city. As she walked she noticed that she felt rather comfortable, even though it was so hot that she could see the heat waves dancing just above the horizon. But, naturally she guessed, she was dead. There was no need to regulate her temperature anymore as she was deathly cold to the touch. She would have to be careful with who she bumped into. She had forgotten the customs of this world, but she imagined that no one would pay too kindly to a zombie. 

She placed a hand over her heart. To feel nothing push and pull against her ricage was a rather surreal emotion. She had no memory of her past life, but she felt absolutely unnatural. No pulse, no use for breathing…What was she to do now? 

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Please, father, you know that I can help!” Mariposa declared as she ran after her father, King Julius. However, she kept a good five feet between them. She did not understand it, but for some reason she was not allowed to show affection for her father. To be close, to be held, it was something that she never experienced. 

“Royals do not have time for such pleasantries. Now be done with it.” Her father had announced to her at an early age when she kept trying to hold his hand. And so, she learned to respect his space. He was the king, after all. And the king should be held with the utmost respect next to the queen. 

“I have already told you no! Now, be gone from my sight!” King Julius said in a authoritative voice. Mariposa couldn’t help but stop in her tracks, a flinch coaxed from her very body as her aquamarine wings fluttered in anxiety. It had been awhile since her father had last hit her, but she knew that it was for her own good. It was always for her own good. However, she couldn’t help but react in such a way, Mariposa cursing herself internally for feeling unsafe. 

She did not wish to bring about his wrath. As much as she knew that it was all for her, she still disliked seeing this side of him. To be fair, there was really no other side to King Julius, but he seemed to be soft to his mate, Queen Espe. Mariposa wondered if she could have a relationship that warranted such pleasantries one day but between a father and daughter. 

And so, she needed to do this. To prove it to him that she can be like the others. 

Mariposa was a moth, the last of her kind. After the great war between butterfly and moth, the moths who had once imprisoned the butterflies were rightfully overthrown. Mari’s parents, the king and queen of the moths, were executed to pay for their sins and during this time there was a great plague amongst the population that wiped out a lot of the moths. Their military power was stretched impossibly thin, a collapse from within bound to happen to which it did. The top brass were murdered, by their own people, no less. And the rest of what was left of the moths fled to the far reaches of Earth. 

Mari was abandoned, but King Julius was merciful enough to raise her like his own. She knew that his “tough love” would soon shape her into a fine woman one day, even though she will never be able to rule. She shouldn’t be given the opportunity to anyway, not after what her people did. 

And so, she curtsied and excused herself from her father’s presence. Weaving through what seemed like infinite hallways of this overly large castle, she finally found herself in the center to which a great garden lay. A vast collection of butterflies over cast the garden, the creatures taking their time to lazily fly through the warm air or suckle on the nectar of the many flowers that lined the rows of dirt and planters.

Mari pulled out a small package of nectar from her short’s pocket, filling a cupped hand with the sweet treat. She then patiently waited but not for long as packs of butterflies began to flock towards her. She hummed with delight as various types of butterflies filled her space. Their tongues would dip into the nectar as they suckled, each moving away to make room for another. 

“How polite of you guys.” She said to them, her eyes whipping to the sight of a monarch butterfly that was inching its way down her fore arm. She gave a thin line of a frown. “I’ll prove it to you.” 

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Don’t ask how moths can sense when a wayward soul is nearby but she supposed that it was all in her antennae. Way back when, moths were known as “keepers of souls”. Their job was to lead souls to the afterlife, souls that did not wish to go or just couldn’t find the way. Mari thought that it was an honorable practice, but for some reason, the moths did away with it. What happened to the wayward souls that were left to their own devices? Well, the butterflies took over that position, only the top guard being allowed to lead wayward souls to their destination. 

Mari believed that if she could just find one soul and lead them to a better place, perhaps her father will look at her differently. That she wasn’t like her ancestors and that can be the new era. She just needed to find one…

The sun had begun to set when Mari spotted a lone, undead in the distance. She couldn’t help but jump in the air with a “Yes!” She was going to do this!

Before she knew it, her legs took off. She found herself running at the wayward soul that trekked languidly before her, Mari not noticing just how off this person was. Even for an undead. She felt the air within her lungs becoming scarcer and scarcer, her legs weakening and the urge to just slow down was beginning to rear its head. She definitely needed to get herself more fit! Royals were never expected to run from place to place, they had servants to carry them to their destination. But the uneveness of the terrain was making it even more harder to run. 

Finally, she made it to the cloaked and masked figure who seemed to tremble and sway on their feet. “Hello there!~” Mariposa announced herself, slowing down until she came to a stop just in front of the other. “Whew! I-huff-really…Need to get into shape.” Mari curled over, placing her hands on her knees as her wings rattled behind her. In her excitement she had forgotten she had them which were far stronger than her arms and legs. They were soft and delicate, but if used correctly they could be by far the deadliest weapon. 

But before Mari could continue, she heard soft moans and snarls that emanated from beneath this soul’s mask. A quivering, green hand reached up to pull the mask off, the clay accessory plummeting to the sand below. “Hungry…” Was all Ripley could mutter before she began to inch her way towards Mari. 

“Oh, uh, souls eat? I…Shit I didn’t research this further. Should I have brought some food for your trip?” She couldn’t help but muse to herself, to which she did not see the undead girl lunging at her.