When Eliza woke, she was startled into consciousness by her own awareness.

She hadn't expected to wake up. Or if she did, surrounded by either fluffy white clouds or fire and brimstone.

Blearily, her eyelids came crashing up and down a dozen times like a smith's hammer. She sat up properly from her slouch against the tree, back stiff from it's rugged embrace.

She wasn't a morning person, the senses took time to awaken. As she progressed from feeling familiar heat wash over her to seeing the undead crouched not far away over a roaring fire, her confusion grew tenfold as the sound and smell of popping, sizzling meat reached her ears and nose.

The monster shot her a wide grin as it slowly turned a charred, humanoid looking corpse over the flames.

She stared. What… the fuck?

Alright so maybe it hadn't eaten her, but the beast had clearly found some other prey in these woods. Poor soul, she hoped the fellow was dead before being skewered over the fire.

The beast turned its clawed hands slowly, rotating a long pointed branch driven through the person's chest. The tiny corpse charred and hissed at the flame's kiss.

Dear Goddess… was that a child? She stared in horror, stomach churning in equal parts disgust and hunger from the enticing smell.

The undead shifted, raising one clawed finger before slashing downward. The curved black blade sliced cleanly through the meat, severing an arm without apparent discomfort even as the fire raged across its hand.

Eliza gulped. It wasn't going to…

Her fears were confirmed as it tossed the cooked appendage to her, her hands catching it on instinct.

Her stomach clenched, the urge to vomit and ravenous hunger running through it. She shook her head, tossing it back at the undead in shocked denial.

It caught the limb with one long hand as it flew through the air, tilting its head at her curiously. It black eyes gleamed in the firelight for a few moments before widening as it grinned again, moving with purpose as it searched the area. After finding a relatively flat rock and scooping it up from the forest floor, it placed the arm on it and began to strip away narrow slices of it with its claws.

Confusion was added to her torrent of emotions. Was it trying to make... bacon?

Once it had a pile of thin strips of meat stacked on the stone, it placed the make-shift plate on the grass before her. She leaned away as it neared, pressing herself against the rough bark once more, but it seemed to ignore her. It placed the food down then retreated, staring expectantly at her once again.

Slowly, she turned her eyes downward to the innocent-looking offering, appearing not too different than any other bacon she had been served before, albeit it far more rudimentary. Why was it even trying to make her do this?

She thought for a moment before her eyes widened. Undead eat people, don't they? If it was trying to feed her for some reason then surely it would expect her palette to be no different.

She swallowed slowly before speaking. Not that she thought it could understand her. "Listen, uh, buddy… I appreciate the thought, but I can't eat this. People can't eat people."

The undead tilted its head once more, jaw sliding slightly open as its dry lips parted to show a hint of the dragon-like teeth that lurked within. She braced herself, readying her magic. Was it mad she rejected its gift? The air began to cool around her hand as she readied her frost magic, the damp earth turning hard and frosty as she prepared to blast the monster.

It shook its head. An innocuous gesture, but one which startled her. A human gesture.

Quickly, it rose to its terrifying height, gesturing a clawed hand between the roast corpse and an odd depression in the grass not far away. She raised an eyebrow as it knelt beside it, plunging one lengthy arm into the hole. Faint squealing and gibbering reached her ears as the undead searched, lowering itself further to get the entirety of its enormous limb below the surface. She sat up taller and watched in fascination, as it began to pull something out of the hole.

When at last it extracted its arm, clutched in its hand was a struggling, green-skinned bipedal creature, thrashing its small limbs and claws about with panic. The creature squeaked and fought, pointy-eared, long-nosed head flailing about it threw it weight to try and escape the undead's graps.

It pointed between the creature it held and the corpse.

Oh. Oh!

As her face lit up in realisation, the undead grinned and nodded, releasing the struggling creature as it dropped through the air and scrambled back into its warren with a series of joyous squeals.

The undead returned to the fire and sat down on the loamy earth once more. She wondered in amazement at how it was communicating, at how it was intelligent. It could understand Common! How? What was this thing?

Her mind turned away from the beasts nature as without the disgust of a potential atrocity to mankind weighing her down, her hunger seized the directive. Eagerly, she snatched up a strip of bacon off her rocky plate.

Huh.

Tastes like chicken.

-

Buddy found it a little ironic that she was having breakfast at near dusk. He'd forgive the strange scenario, it was clear her sleep schedule wasn't brilliant.

He had to admit, it surprised him when she didn't recognise the goblin and he had to explain. For some reason, it felt normal to him, familiar. A memory tickled his mind, but he failed to catch it.

The duo walked through the woods, traversing the mostly flat landscape as they made their way to the wood's edge.

"I think we're heading the right way? There's less thorny bushes about, which suggests we're making headway…" The girl idly murmured as she weaved between some dense undergrowth. He simply stepped over it.

They were heading to a village called Rocksdale, apparently the place she got her quest from. That it was to come find him elated him. That it had apparently been up for many years without anyone taking it enraged him.

Though, the brief spark of anger quickly faded as he realised something. His emotions were dulled. They came and went quickly and infrequently. If it wasn't for his dulled mind as well, he probably would have realised it earlier. A brief flash of concern passed over him for a moment, but only just. How long would this take to go away?

"To be honest, Rocksdale is a backwater shithole. I only went there to check for quests, since there were none elsewhere for an 'unaffiliated novice adventurer' like myself." She glanced up at him as he ducked under some foliage. "The reward listed was some copper, not an undead, though."

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Her words made him think; was he an undead? He certainly didn't feel like one, though his mind was a bit foggy he certainly wasn't a mindless beast.

They continued trekking through the woods as the girl chattered away to him. He wished he could respond. Couldn't even ask her for her name. Though, as he thought about it more, he realised he both could and couldn't. His throat and vocal chords were fine, he definitely should have been able to speak.

But he just couldn’t.

Thinking about it hurt. Vivid memories of white robes and suffering flashed across the edges of his vision, between the towering birch trees and effervescent shadows twisting under the moonlight. He shook his head, trying to dispel the bad thoughts. He wasn’t ready. Not yet.

His musings and the girl’s chatter were both cut off by a new voice suddenly piercing the quiet veil of the night.

“Well, well, well. I guess you’re what’s scaring off the critters.” A gruff voice emanated from a shadowed spot. Buddy turned, freezing as he saw an old, bearded man stepping out from the shadows cast by an old-oak tree. The man was remarkably old, his large grey beard and hair making him more akin to an elderly bear than an elderly man. His cloak shifted as he stepped slowly forwards, revealing the leather and cloth outfit he wore beneath and the axe which hung from his belt.

It wasn’t his appearance that made Buddy freeze, though. It was the crossbow he had levelled at the girl’s chest. His eyes narrowed as he saw it, claws twitching as he prepared to dash at the man.

“I’d call off the undead if I was you, necromancer. This bolt can move far faster than it can.” He drawled. Buddy froze, crouching slightly as he bared his teeth at the man. His companion remained still, hands half raised as she stared fearfully at the crossbow’s end. She cleared her throat.

“Uh, yeah, let me handle this one buddy.” She called over to him, not taking her eyes off the weapon which threatened her life. The old man smirked, a grim chuckle escaping him.

“Smart move. You think you can handle me, though? I’ve killed a lot of monsters in my day, missy, a necromancer doesn’t seem like shit compared to a drake.”

Buddy grinded his sharp teeth together, a vague memory noting it as an old habit when angry. The cloaked man cast him a glance, a faint flash of unease crossing his face.

-

Eliza wasn’t ashamed to say she was terrified. It was the first time in her life she’d ever been threatened so directly this, a far more immediate danger than any words she’d faced.

But even as the man stared down at her along the barrel of his weapon, her mind raced.

She wasn’t ashamed to say that she was a schemer, either.

In the brief span of a couple seconds, a thousand ideas came and went before she settled on an option, the one least likely to result in her demise.

“Is that so? Would you like to test that theory?” She smiled mockingly at him, crossing her arms. “I would answer very carefully. Out in these woods there’s no-one to hear our screams.”

When in doubt, bluff. It’s what nobles did half the time anyway.

The man’s smirk faded slightly, a calculating look entering his eye as she maintained her smug exterior.

“Big talk coming from a little girl.” He eventually growled. She snorted derisively. Considering she wasn’t even a full adult yet, her height was decent.

“Big talk coming from an old man. Your soul looks about as tired and dirty as you do, by the way.” She closed her eyes, grinning. It was almost fun! Despite the tension of the situation this kind of acting had always appealed to her. She opened one eye to see the man’s eyes widen slightly.

After a moment of silence, she continued, “What’s the matter grandpa? Undead got your tongue?”

The man’s eyes darted between her and the undead, its grin appearing more twisted and nightmarish with each passing second. It would reach its ears soon. A crescent moon of bloodthirsty spikes. The man swallowed, then looked at her with narrow eyes. “What’re you even doing out here? Necromancers ain’t welcome round these parts.”

“My business here is done, I’m simply heading to Rocksdale. Do you know where that is,” She cast a critical eye over his outfit and weapons, “hunter?”

The old hunter’s eyes narrowed for a second, before a thought seemed to come to him. “I certainly do. Want me to lead the way?” He spoke casually, glancing into the distance through the treeline as his crossbow’s stock fell against his hip. “The sooner you're out of these woods the sooner I can get back to hunting. That lanky creep is scaring all the game away.” He added, almost as an afterthought.

That was… an odd, sudden about-turn. She decided to go along with it, perhaps her bluff had simply robbed the man of his confidence.

“That would be much appreciated.” She smiled coldly.

A hunter, a mage and an undead walked into the woods. Sounds like the setup for a bad joke.

-

After several hours of walking they settled down to rest for the night. Well, what remained of the night, it was more like the early hours of the morning.

Apparently they hadn’t been heading in the exact right direction, so it would take another few hours once they rose in the morning to get to Rocksdale. The hunter had begrudgingly told them this, and not much else. Apart from his name, Pierce.

Infuriatingly the girl hadn’t told him hers. Part of the strange, noble-esque attitude she wore around him, he supposed.

The elderly hunter sat on a rock beside the campfire, the steely hiss of the blade he sharpened snaking through the quiet night every few seconds. The old man himself was silent, eyes scanning the surrounding darkness.

Once again, Buddy bemoaned his inability to talk, there was no need for Pierce to keep watch when he never slept. He had no love for the man after him threatening them, but he was, well… old. You can’t help but feel a certain pity for the old. Despite the fact that Buddy was fairly certain he was older than him, he still wanted to make things easy for the elderly man.

After many long minutes of listening to the ring of steel and crackling fire, he decided to try and communicate. He could make an attempt, at least, to clear the guilt he was feeling about the hunter keeping vigil.

Slowly, so as not to frighten the old man with a sudden movement, he crouched. As he began to descend, Pierce took notice and looked up, brows furrowing. He ceased sharpening his blade and narrowed his eyes at the undead as he finally finished folding his long limbs like origami.

With the firelight illuminating his black sclera, he raised a hand to get the old man's attention before starting.

First, he pointed a long finger at the hunter. You.

Next, he swept two fingers down across his eyes, closing them as he did so. Sleep.

Finally, he pointed at the earth. Now.

The man leaned back, eyes widening, then narrowing. He leaned in closer.

"Was that a threat, boy?" Pierce's beard rustled as he spoke, gripping his now wickedly sharp blade. It glinted dangerously in the light of the fire.

Exasperatedly, Buddy shook his head. If he could sigh, he would.

"Yeah, I didn't think so. Kiddo like you best watch your step."

Buddy tilted his head. Although he didn't remember the span of his existence, he was certain the old man had not been around for nearly as long as he had. Little facts and memories were fleeting for him, but he was certain that people only lived for, what, a hundred years? Around that? The unending torment of that cell, the silence, the darkness; a hundred years paled in comparison to how long he spent drowning in it.

At least Buddy didn’t feel his age. He was pretty spry. Or actually… As he thought about his cloudy thoughts and memory problems, maybe his problem was suitable for his age.

Pierce huffed.

"At least you're a quiet one. A ghoul, I assume? They're meant to be the silent type. Skinny as well, except they have white eyes, don't they?" The hunter spoke softly, as if to himself. Buddy sat down in front of the fire, gangly frame stretched across a wide area as he gave Pierce his full attention. The man continued, "You ever met a zombie before? Damn things never stop moaning. It's creepy. Makes you think they're still alive, just trapped in there." The man squinted at him.

"You've got more control than that though, don't ya? Yeah, whoever that body once belonged to I bet you've got trapped in there deep," He shook his head, glaring up at Buddy through his bushy eyebrows, "I've never seen or heard of something like ya. You're an unnatural, unholy, m-"

He was silent. It didn't matter anymore. Nothing they could do to him would possibly draw out a scream any longer, nor the confession of what they desperately wanted to know. But he would not speak. Not anymore. The man in white sneered down at him as he didn't resist, even as his stretched form was deformed and twisted to beyond human. "We've wasted enough time on him. Seal him away in the woods. It's only fitting for such a disgusting, m-"

"-onstrous creature"

That memory, that man in white robes again. A low growl ripped its way out of his chest as he thought of the one that hurt him.

The old hunter leaned back, raising both hands. His dagger dropped to the earthy ground, polished surface reflecting the gleam of Buddy’s teeth in the firelight.

"Hey, hey, simmer down. Didn't mean to upset you. Wasn't aware the undead could be upset." He trailed off, frowning deeply.

Buddy stood, running a spindly clawed hand across his face as if to wipe away the bad thoughts. He looked down at Pierce, shook his head, then returned to keeping watch.

It was a long night.