Mist of Doom

1. One Misty Night

Gigantic tower mills loomed over the multistory buildings in South City, the southernmost region in the state of Billion. Unlike the windmills Billy had learned about at school during his mortal life, these mills created the wind instead of generating energy with it. They were much like giant fans, though nobody really knew about its power source.

"This is a good place to rest," Jyuji said. "I smell no human here... But it stinks like hell!"

Head poking out of his teal electric guitar, Billy stretched his neck to take a closer look at the dead-end alley found by his undead buddy; the rays cast by the full moon in the starry sky gave him enough illumination to see what lay there. Weathered wooden planks and rusty iron poles rested against the wall. Rats and insects dug into the heaps of rubbish that spilled out of the fallen trash cans.

Good thing Billy couldn't smell anything as a ghost. Jyuji, however, had a keen sense of smell, comparable to the creatures humans called "zombies." Billy and their other friends never called him that "z" word, though, for several reasons. Firstly, Jyuji walked like a healthy human and could neither eat something nor spread his condition. Then, Jyuji's skin was only paler than a normal human, not greenish with ulcers. Lastly, Jyuji communicated with words instead of groans.

Many called Jyuji's species "deadmen," though some preferred "undead men."

"We can find a better place, Jyuji," Billy said.

"I just need a break. Now." The frowning Jyuji sat on the ground and slammed the guitar down. The thud broke the silence in the alley.

Billy sighed. This grumpy undead man really needed to smile more, but whenever Billy attempted to amuse him, he'd only snap. It wasn't like Billy would stop trying to bring a smile outta this old grump, though. Entertaining either humans or undead made him feel alive; sometimes when he joked around, he might even forget that he was a ghost.

He sprang out of his instrument, picked it up and strummed it. Rats squeaked and jumped from one trash can to another, pepping up Billy's I Feel Good with discordant vocals and percussion.

If only this were a stage with colorful spotlights... Well, those with a refined taste in music would pelt him with rotten fruits and veggies, while those who only wanted some zest in their lives would clap and dance like mad at his performance.

"Quit it!" Jyuji suddenly yelled, looking up at him. Yes, looked. Or perhaps stared. Jyuji might have lost his eyes and covered the glowing, empty sockets of his skull with a blindfold, but to Billy, it always seemed like Jyuji could still give death glares whenever he felt like it.

"Aw, man." Billy's face crumpled as his guitar slipped out of his hands. "I thought it would cheer you up." He retreated into the instrument like a genie into his magic lamp.

"Cheerful ghosts annoy me." The rats continued with their inharmonious orchestra, and Jyuji screamed, "Shut up before I roast ya, noisy pests!"

"Um, they don't understand our language," Billy commented, "do they?"

"Neither do you!" Jyuji hissed through his gritted teeth, his right shoulder glowing with orange light. Then fire burst out of it - why it never burned Jyuji's coat to ashes, nobody knew. "Argh! That damned Seed is coming again! All thanks to you and those freakin' pests!"

Seed, Billy reiterated in his mind. Humans gave the drug such a funny name because of how it worked. Once a body - dead or alive - earned a dose of Seed, one would have to wait until the substance turned into a fully-grown alien. Then it would bear its "fruits:" bringing a corpse back to life, granting the individuals some cool powers that existed only in superhero movies, or both.