Zombie Girl

My attempt to write something about a zombie

Zombies, or 'the living dead' as some humans liked to call them, weren't always the creepy rotting carcass that they were depicted as. Some were, indeed, falling apart and missing pieces of their flesh, but those were the ones who had already been old when they were reborn from their graves to do the bidding of the (most likely) necromancer who required their services. That didn't mean that they were mindless killing machines though, most retained a higher degree of mental capacity after their undeaths. Like Ikhny, a rather young and sturdy zombie girl, newly reborn to serve as the assistant of Mardefil the Necromancer. She had been relatively young when her natural death tore her life out of her body, so she had no horrible scars or disfigurements, other than the grayish tint to her skin to signify that her heart no longer beat. Her mind was stuck in its teenage years, so she liked to have fun even though she knew she had to do whatever her new Master bid her.

Mardefil didn't have too many demands for her, her duties consisted mostly of tending to the herb gardens that had replaced the crops of the necromancer's farm, and bringing him whatever leaf or root he required for his experiments and potions. Every once in a while, she had to chase away the occasional human from the nearby village, as they got curious sometimes to see what was happening in the strange and foreboding farmstead; they usually never got past the guard hounds that patrolled the perimeter but when they did, it was up to her to leave her place beneath the shadows of the eaves and stalk through the gardens in the direction of the intruder. They usually took one look at her, did a double-take, and turned tail to flee. She must have been a more frightening sight than the hounds if it only took one glance at her to make them so afraid they had to get away as fast as their fleshy legs could take them. Sometimes it made Ikhny sad, seeing the backside of some human as he attempted to get away from her.

But it's my job, so I suppose it's to be expected. She enjoyed looking after all the herbs, even the more exotic ones, as she'd always had a special kind of knowledge of plants even when she was still alive. Her abilities and knowledge had still been with her when she awoke on Mardefil's ritual table. At least she could talk to the spirits that lived around the farmstead to ease some of the loneliness she felt; the other undead were a lot older than she was and their vocal cords damaged and decayed beyond speech capabilities. Even the more mischievous of the ghosts lightened up her days. It was one such day, when her gloom had yet to be lifted by the antics of one of the newer ghosts, when Ikhny noticed that the hounds were baying and making a spectacle at the border of the farmstead. With what would have been called a sigh, had she breathed at all anymore, she left the relative seclusion of the eastern garden and headed in the direction of the disturbance.

Her shoulders shifted to settle the enchanted silver sleeves on her arms, which would keep her muscles from decaying and falling off her bones, and waited for the magic to engage and slide some very sharp claws over the back of her hand. She may have been a zombie, but that didn't mean she was impervious to physical attacks. Her strength was average, but her speed was enhanced by the spells that her master put on most of her protective gear. As she neared the place where the hounds were, she cast her eyes around to see what could be making them so hysterical. There, right outside of the boundary runes, was a relatively young woman; cloaked and hooded, she could have been any normal traveler if it wasn't for the axe clearly visible beneath the folds of the cloak. Her build was slight and her complexion fair, the glimpse of hair that Ikhny got was enough to identify her as elven. No human has hair that looks like grass. Planting her feet firmly, the zombie girl waited for the elf to state her business.

“I seek Mardefil, undead,” her voice was light and lilting, seeming to float across the space that separated them and the zombie girl realized that the runes were repelling the elf woman, which was interesting. Only those whom her master truly wanted to stay away were affected at all by the spells that were set in the ground. Without saying a word, there was really no need, Ikhny turned and made her way to the farmhouse, where her master surely already knew that there was an elf outside. Mardefil was in his ritual room when she entered the house and waited to hear what his orders were. He said nothing for a few moments as he finished mixing whatever potion he was working on, then turned to look at her. The necromancer was really nothing special to look at, he was light-skinned and dark-haired, his eyes a nondescript dark brown, and he was short and stocky. But his magic was unrivaled by any other magi in the land. “She may enter, but make sure her weapons stay outside the boundary,” so saying, he turned back to his table to start casting a spell over the potion.

Turning on her heel, she went back outside and in the direction of the elf, who had seated herself on the ground and was ignoring the hounds, which were huffing and sniffing in her direction. They could only attack her if she was inside the border of the farmstead. “You may come in, but your weapons stay out.” The elven woman seemed about to protest, but Ikhny cut her off. “No weapons, or my master will not see you,” with a scowl, the woman began to undo various buckles about her person and several small pouches dropped, along with a few sharp blades and the axe. Extending her arms and turning in place, she made it obvious that she was no longer armed and the undead girl touched a certain place in the runes that would open a small section of the barrier that would allow the elf in, then motioned to her to follow. The hounds, seeing that their caretaker was guarding the elven woman, returned to their patrol. She escorted the visitor back to the farmhouse and led her to the door of the ritual room, where the elf went in and shut the door behind herself. Almost instantly, the murmur of voices floated out, though the words were not clear.

Ikhny was not insulted, she had duties to attend to outside. The claws melted away from the backs of her hands as she went through all the gardens to make sure there were no little bugs eating the leaves. She could still hear the cadence of voices from inside the farmhouse, which seemed strange since she was a bit far away from it. Her hand went up to swipe at her short hair and she realized that her right ear was missing. Oh, no wonder I can hear their voices. I'm falling apart. Then the truth of her thoughts hit her: she was decaying. After the many years she had been in her master's service, she had thought that her body would stay the same forever. She had believed that the spells her master had weaved around her would stop her decay. Something must have happened to make the spells lose their potency. Thinking back to the moment that her ear probably fell off, she realized that magic was a weapon that could not be removed. The voices increased in volume as she turned and headed back to the farmhouse as fast as her decomposing legs could take her; but she seemed to be too late, she stopped hearing sounds for a second and the air went still.

The silence was shattered by a tremendous explosion, and she heard a horrifying screech. She would have assumed that it had been the elf, if it were not for the sight of the woman exiting the farmhouse and stop to take a deep breath. There was a self-satisfied smile on her face as she calmly walked down the steps and headed back in the direction from which she had entered, obviously knowing that the barrier was gone. Mardefil the Necromancer was no more, as evidenced by the abrupt withering of all the gardens and Ikhny's rapid decay. The elf shot a glance at the fallen undead and a brief flash of sorrow marred her pretty features, but it was gone instantly. “It had to be done.” There was nothing else to be done as her body disintegrated before the elf had taken even five steps away from the house.

Author's Note

Written for Amethyst Lavenlight on Menewsha. This one gave me a bit of trouble, and I'm not exactly satisfied with my work >.< So it might be revised and edited later on