𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙢 𝘽𝙤𝙙𝙞𝙚𝙨

Chapter Eight

Y/N

I swallow the pulverised gray matter and settle back against the bench, musing on what I’ve just seen.

It’s no wonder she’s afraid of me, with all she’s been through. She lost this Jin-yong, this man who seemed to have been close to her, to Corpses, and then had to shoot her boyfriend’s father in the head.

Then I ate her boyfriend, although I’m not sure she realises that just yet. I guess I can’t really blame her for wanting nothing to do with me.

Clearly, I need a different approach in getting through to her.

Wiping my hand off on my trouser leg, I climb down out of the truck and make my way back to my house.

There’s another Corpse hanging around the back door curiously but I snarl at him as I walk up and he wanders off, getting the point.

That’s one thing that is nice about Corpses; we all understand the rights of territory and don’t mess with other people’s things.

I let myself into the store and look around once the door is shut firmly behind me.

I spot Jennie curled up on herself in a corner. She’s got some sort of sharp, metal object in her hands, holding it in front of her defensively, and she watches me suspiciously.

I take a step toward her and she lifts up the object - it turns out to be a screwdriver - and brandishes it at me threateningly. I hesitate and then step back, getting her point.

Turning around, I head over to the heap of blankets that I tripped over last night. I shove aside the top two because they're dirty and blood-spattered, but underneath them is a thick quilt in lovely blues that's decently clean and I pick it up.

I walk carefully back over to her and hold out the blanket. She eyes me distrustfully but she doesn't make any move to shank me so that's something.

I shake out the blanket and then lay it over her folded legs and tuck it behind her shoulders. She whimpers and flinches when my skin touches hers, closing her eyes and turning her head away. She looks so resigned, so hopeless.

Gosh, she thinks I'm going to hurt her.

I already told her once before that she's safe here, that I won't hurt her. I mean, I know I'm a Corpse, but you can still take me for my word.

Taking several deliberate steps back, I wait for her to look at me again. "S-safe," I say. "N-not, hu-urt. K-keep you s-safe."

"Why me?" she asks, her voice a bit hysterical as a tear rolls across her cheek. "Why did you save me?"

Isn't that the question of the year? I shrug because that's all the answer I have. I don't know why I saved her, what it is that makes her so special, I just know that she is.

And that I want her to stop being so sad. "D-don't, c-c-cry," I try weakly.

Jennie sobs and closes her eyes again. This isn't working. I need to find some other way to communicate with her, to assure her that I don't want to hurt her.

I just want to understand her. I just want to know why I feel a connection to another thing for the first time since I died.

So I use the only other thing I feel connected to.

Shuffling across the room, I take the current vinyl off the record player and tuck it back onto the shelf. I fumble through them until I find one I wanted, the one that sounds like sadness.

Jennie is sad, but maybe if she feels it with the music it will go away. Mostly I just want her to know that I know she's sad. I understand, as much as I can.

Pulling out the vinyl, I set it on the player and settle the needle into the start.

The music is slow and lush, full of so many different instruments, but it's the voice I like. The woman's voice is - soothing.

I sit down in my little nest, where I'm close to the music but I can still see Jennie, and I let the music wash through the room.

I close my eyes and sway in tempo with the music, trying to show her that I - well not that I feel it, but that I know that it should feel. I wait patiently, not wanting to startle her, and after a while I get lost in the music.

The track changes from one song to another, a sweeter, higher song.

"What are you?"

I opened my eyes, surprised by Jennie's question, and find her staring at me in rapt fascination.

What am I? What kind of question is that? I mean, I'm a Corpse. I know I'm a little different than the others but that doesn't change what I am. I don't think so anyway.

Maybe I'm not a Corpse. At least not an ordinary Corpse. After all I did just bring home a Living, and that's not exactly a normal Corpse thing to do.

Lost for an answer, I shrug and settle further down into my nest.