Rot & Romance (Rewriting)

Chapter 92

Natalie could have sworn she heard the undead girl say she was Primitive dead walker Isabella Morrison.

"Come again?" she asked.

The girl smiled.

"I'm Isabella Morrison," she repeated.

"Isabella Morrison?" Natalie said incredulously. "The Isabella Morrison?"

The girl nodded.

This is unreal!

"How . . . what?"

The girl giggled.

"Your reaction is rather tame compared to what I've seen in the past. One guy actually tried to plunge a silver dagger through my skull to see if I was being honest."

Natalie gaped at the girl.

"That's insane! What happened?" she said.

The girl put a hand to her mouth as she giggled yet again.

"A few seconds later his ashes were flying through the air."

"You . . . killed him?"

"Well, did he not deserve it?" the girl said ominously, a menacing glare in her eyes.

"I . . . well, yeah. I suppose so."

"Of course he did! Anybody that threatens my life deserves to die!"

"But you're a Primitive One. Truly immortal. You can't die."

"It doesn't matter. He tested what I love most." The girl stood from her stool and began pacing. "It was in my immortal life that I developed my fear of death. The definition of irony, I'm aware. But there's something about being alive for over six-hundred years that makes me abhor death. The sights I've seen, the cultures I've experienced, the music I've listened to, the fashion I've indulged in, the people I've met--none of this would have been possible without immortality!"

She spun in place and clasped her hands together when she stopped.

"I absolutely love life and all of its beauty!"

Natalie smiled at the girl.

"Sounds like you're making the most out of eternity."

She laughed and sat beside Natalie again.

"The witches say immortality is the greatest defiance against Nature. That it's a curse. Well, I see it as a blessing. One that only Mother could deliver." She heavily sighed. "I don't see how humans could do it," she began quietly. "How they can carry the burden of their inevitable deaths with them every day--no, second--of their lives. I mean, can one truly enjoy life knowing that one day they'll cease to exist? Doesn't the thought of one day becoming . . . nothing not drive them mad with depression? It's so very sad to live . . . to die."

Natalie used to wonder the same things in her mortal life. What's the point of anything if we're just going to die in the end? Why accomplish goals? Why make memories? Why find love? In the end, it'll all disappear along with your existence.