At The Cemetary
JEnnifer:
Walking Around The Cemetary. I Knew what i Was Looking for . Brea . Is what I was looking for . Once I Found Her Grave, I would Find Her . Or Something that atleast told me about it. Aaron Zockleff, Bruce Wifshaw Here, Brea Handford . Indeed, Her Gave Was One Of Those Little House grave thingys. The door was open. "Okay, A Little Creepy." I whispered To myself. No way Brea could be an "Undead" its just, not possible.
I finally got the curage to walk inside. "Hello? Anybody There?" I Heard A Chuckle, Hoping It Was That Little Voice inside My Head. "I Knew You'd Come Here.." Following The Voice, I Turned Around To find Brea Closing The Door.
She Didnt Look Like Brea. Her Hair, Instead Of Black&Long Flowing. Silky And Beautiful. Was Scratchy Dull Black With Leaves And What Not . Looked Like A Bad Wig . Ew. I Could See The Black Dress That She Was Buried In Hanging Over Her Grave. Apparently, She took It Off And Put Back On The CLothes She Died In.
Blue short&Blue Shirt.
I Dont Know Why but That Is What Most Undead Do, Theyre Attatched To Theyre "Death Clothes" I call Them. It Just Brings Back Old - Painful Memories.
"Brea. This What Is This?" I Said Looking Around At The Dust And Leave Filled Grave...
"This? My New Home." She Said....With An Attitude. "Thanks To You!" She Got Louder And Somehow The Earth Underneath Me, Shook. Just Me?
"You Didnt Save Me Jennifer. I Thought We Were Friends." I Was Confused. This Didnt Sound Like Brea Either. I Looked Her Straight In The Eye. I Didnt See Brea. I knew That Either Way Brea Wasnt In This Room. Not Physically Nor Mentally. Brea Wouldve Accepted The Fact She Was Dead And Gone On To Live With God. That Brea. She Wouldve Forgiven Me, For The Thing I Blame My Self For. For Her Death. She Wouldve Told Me it Wasnt My Fault If I had Gotten The Chance To See Her Tonight. Brea Wouldve Said Shes Happy And Cant Wait To See Me In Heaven Again.
But This Ass Right Here, Gotta' Go And Get Me In My Feelings. Damn, All This Thinking Got Me Crying.
"Aww Poor Dear, Miss Your VICTIM?" She SCreamed. "Your, Your Not Brea, She Wasnt My Victim" I Whispered.
Was She Reading My Thoughts? Oh, That Bitch !
"So, You Know Its Not Your Dear Friend Eh'?" And With That, I Saw The Most Disgusting Thing in The World. Brea Scratched Off Her Face And She Looked Like This Demon Looking Thing. He Hair Falling To The Ground I could Barely Hold My Stomach. Just So... Disgusting! There Stood A Demon In My Mist, Freaking Out I Tried To Go Ninja On It. Unfortunatly, This Wasnt Going To Work. I
Remember What Brea HAd Actually Given Me, And That I Laid It On Her Grave When She Died ! It Had To Be In Here Somewhere, A Crucifix Would Really Help.
I Remembered My Abilities. God? Yes I Need You, NOW ! I Guess Kind Of A Christian Moment, A Prayer. Calling On God In Need, And If I Live, I Will Be Thankful.
So A Few Punches Here A Few Punches There.
I Got Knocked Into the Wall. Damnit ! Demons Can Pack A Punch. Turning My Head far In The Corner, I Saw The Crucifix. Lined In Diamonds,Hopefully It Would Still Work.
I Turned My Head To The Demon. His Back Was To Me. I Crawled Silently To The Crucifix.
I Have One Chance.
