"Most people don't respect death, by people, I mean humans. They are outliers of course the one in a million who bumped their head or maybe went too far from the shore and didn't fully come back."
"Don't even get me started on the pharmaceutical industry or the 60's. They found ways to augment and delay the natural order, have you ever tried to live in a hippie's body it's like tasting a tropical rainbow.....during a thunderstorm."
He got no response from the things around him.
"Then they are bloodlines. Certain families and tribes that were raised with death or touched by it. Not in that way.....creepy."
The thing formally occupied the shell that was an arsonist, spoke to the jackalopes, somewhat rabbit like creatures except for the antlers on their heads and the willingness to use them.
The jackalopes continued to surround him.
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"Then they are things like her, this body remembers her, and hates. I on the other hand might send her a thank you card, if I don't just go for a personal touch. "
More Jackalopes came out some on trees looking at him with their dark red eyes.
"So you guys are thinking stick with a card?"
The thing that now inhabits the man former arsonist watched as the young woman who gave him access to the dead body and so many memories turned and walked away.
"That moonlight last night, it saved me I was waning away, then I found this vibrant body and suddenly I found more than substance to survive, I have a new form to wander the world. With me gaining as well such new and brilliant thoughts and ideas, I had just thought to finally get in touch with the last few members of my family but now, maybe I shouldn't be so limited."
Reaching into the tattered remain of his pants he fished out a small lighter, after a pause his fingers traveling over it's smooth case, he flicked the lighter on. The shadows around him shifted slightly as his pale and mud covered face seemed to be enchanted by the flickering flame.
The Strigoi Mort walked deeper into the apple tree grove followed by the Jackalopes. The lighter in his hand going on and off as he walked.
He was found on the moors, the man formally know as an arsonist dead, thru some unnatural means.
His end was unfortunate in every aspect but one, he died in the moors in a struggle for survival against a being that he very terribly underestimated.