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Mister Strix

 

Damn near took my head off. Her instincts are a lot better than mine were when I was first turned. This breed hits the ground running. But maybe she's not as confident as she looks. Maybe I can throw her off-balance...

 

The man in white scooped up some of his own dark blood off of his shirt, glanced at it, smirked, and flicked it aside.

 

"The mortals may be easy prey for you, Child. But you're not at the top of the food chain. I am."

 

He couldn't tell if his display had any effect on the newly turned vampire, but he didn't wait to find out. He kept slashing at her. When his claws finally found purchase, he pulled her in close and he leaned in for a bite of his own. His fangs plunged into the side of her head, and his powerful jaws clamped down, breaking off a chunk of her skull. He jerked his head back, taking that chunk of skull out of her head, and with it, the skin and hair above it, and some of the brain beneath it. He spit the whole mess onto the floor.

 

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GM

 

Maria Delgado reeled back from Mister Strix's brutal onslaught. A waterfall of scarlet blood cascaded down the side of her head. She raised a hand and pressed it against the hole where his bite had gouged out part of her brain. Blood streamed out through the cracks between her fingers. Her other hand flailed around as she staggered back and forth.

 

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Mister Strix

 

The longer this goes on, the more danger everybody else is in. End it, now!

 

The man in white rushed up to Maria Delgado. He lunged at her again, ducking under her arms and grabbing the backs of her knees. With all of his weight and all of his superhuman strength behind him, he heaved her up off her feet and slammed her back down onto the floor. He drew his hand back, then plunged his talons through her chest. The impact snapped her sternum and several ribs in half. His fingers closed around her dead heart, and he yanked it out of her chest, spraying his white shirt with her blood. He crushed it between his fingers.

 

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GM

 

Maria Delgado's heart was already crumbling to ash in Mister Strix's hand as he squeezed it. He wound up pushing the ashes through his fingers, and they floated slowly to the floor to join the human-sized pile of ashes beneath him. As her husband Javier before her, Maria's body disintegrated in a second.

 

The two nurses and the orderly all started screaming. Doctor Aparo pulled on a pair of latex gloves, ran over to the two who had been sprayed with Maria's blood, and began wiping it off their faces as she tried to calm them down.

 

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Mister Strix

 

The man in white, now stained with red, wiped his hands off onto Maria's bedding, then rose and walked up to each of the hospital staff in turn, pulling their faces up to meet his gaze and focusing his will to seize control of their minds. "All of you, do exactly as I say. Calm down, right now." He couldn't bring himself to force his will upon Doctor Aparo. "Adriana, please, listen to me. We don't have much time. That blood," he pointed to one of the many red spots on the wall where Maria's blood had splattered, "is a biohazard, beyond Level 4. This hospital isn't equipped to deal with it. So I'm leaving, and I'm taking these people with me. I don't know if I can save them, but I'm the only chance they have. You two," he pointed at the blood-drenched nurse and orderly, "Wipe off as best you can and meet me downstairs at the ambulance bay. We don't have time for you to shower. You," he pointed at the nurse who had taken cover in time to dodge the blood geyser, "Tell someone to sterilize this room, but don't wait for them. Just give the order, then grab all the saline I.V. bags and P.E.P. you can carry. Rabies, HIV, tetanus, everything. Meet us in the ambulance bay."

 

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GM

 

The nurses and the orderly all seemed to fall completely under Mister Strix's spell. They nodded, with unfocused eyes, and wordlessly got up and carried out his instructions. Doctor Aparo, on the other hand, wasn't convinced. "Hey, hold on! Who even are you?! What are you?! I'm not about to let some freak in a mask kidnap my coworkers or my patients, especially after murdering one of them! They're staying here, where I, the doctor, can diagnose and treat them. And so are you. The cops are going to have a ton of questions for you..." She stood up and started to walk toward the door, shouting after her coworkers. "Get back here!"

 

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Mister Strix

 

Dammit, Adriana, why do you always have to be so stubborn? We don't have time for this...I need to hypnotize her...No...Not her...Never...Then what? ...I can't...I have to. It's the only other way.

 

"Adriana." The man in white grabbed Doctor Aparo's shoulder and pulled her back around to face him. With his other hand, he reached up and slid his mask off of his face.

 

His fangs were still showing. His eyes were still completely black. "It's me. I know none of this makes sense, and I don't have time to make it make sense. You just have to trust me, like you always have." He grabbed her hand and pressed her fingers against his wrist. "My skin feels cold and I don't have a pulse because I'm dead. You watched me die. A vampire killed me, and I dug myself out of my own grave, the same grave I watched you lay those red roses on a couple nights ago. Now I'm the walking dead, just like that thing that used to be your patient. A vampire killed her, and she died and got back up again, just like me. And if I hadn't killed her when I did, she would have killed all of you. But I did kill her, because she was already dead, like me. The same thing will happen to your coworkers if I can't stop it. And I can't stop it here. I need you to let me take them. I need you to trust me."

 

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GM

 

Doctor Aparo's mouth hung open at the mind-numbing spectacle of her dead husband standing there, arguing with her. "I...I...Guy?!" She shook her head rapidly. "How...I can't...you can't...what...?" She raised a hand to cup his face, running her fingers along its contours. She glanced back at the pile of ashes sitting on the floor. "...Okay. Do whatever you need to do to save them. And if it's really you, then after this is over, you need to come back and find me, and we need to talk. But..." Her face hardened. "If this is some trick, some twisted game, if you're one of those aliens reading my mind and wearing my dead husband's face just to get your way, I swear to God I will hunt you down to the ends of the Earth and I will cut that face off of you and I will show it to you before you die."

 

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Bedlam General Hospital, Basement

 

Lady Horus ash'd the first one'a these suckers 'fore we had a chance t'examine 'im, 'fore I could figure out if they can control their hunger an' live a semblance'a their old lives, like Strix do, or if all they is is hunger.  But I might be able t'reach this one.

 

Dead Head reached behind him and drew out -- not from any holster, but from a pocket realm inside Guinee -- one of his shovels, and leaned on it as he gently swayed.  Crafted from his own bones and ligaments, it was nearly as tough as he was, and he'd become very good at wielding it.  "Sorry, Mr. Hernandez, but I'll have t'pass on that offer.  I ain't like you, but I know someone who is..."

 

While he typically moved about in an ambling shamble, Dead Head was capable of quick bursts of movement.  He'd never be as quick as Strix, but he rarely needed to be, since so many assumed he couldn't move faster than a mostly-dead person on their last legs.  (And this wasn't even touching on his ability to teleport.)  But now, in a blur of movement, he'd darted around and behind Hernandez, bent him over the morgue drawer that he'd just popped out of, and had used his shovel to pin his arms behind his back.

 

"... an' fortunately for you, he's not here.  Because he'd just as soon rip yer heart out as talk to ya.  But I'm an amiable sorta fella, an' I like t'give folks th' benefit'a the doubt.  Now, I know yer new t'this whole vampire thing, an' ya got a lot'a questions.  Yer body's changin', yer feelin' new urges.  It's natural t'be confused.  But I'm here t'tell ya, ya don't need t'be a slave to yer hunger.  Ya got that urge in ya, sure, but y'ain't gotta act on it.  Just 'cuz ya see a pretty girl -- or guy -- walk by with they neck uncovered ain't mean ya gotta bite 'em.  We cain't help how we feel, but we can control how we act on those feelin's.  So, whaddaya say, we calm down, we go to th' butcher an' talk this out over a pint'a pig's blood, hrm?"

 

 

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GM

 

Roberto Hernandez strained against Dead Head's grip at first, but as Dead Head spoke, he could feel the new vampire's muscles start to relax. When he went limp, the cold flesh in Dead Head's hands made him feel like he was holding a corpse. Which he was. Hernandez's only sign of life was turning his head to the side as he listened intently to the zombie's words.

 

"OK, ok, just relax. I'm calm, you're calm, we're all calm here. Yeah, there's a new voice inside my head telling me to take these new fangs..." He moved his tongue around his mouth, feeling his teeth. "...And use 'em to tear open the nearest throat and guzzle down all the sweet red stuff that comes out. Well, not really a voice, or specific words, but...a feeling. It just makes sense, like eating when you're hungry or screwing when you're horny. Like it's just the most natural thing in the world to do. But you say you got a friend who resists the urge, you wanna help me do the same, and the alternative is getting killed, again? Doesn't take a genius to figure out the smart choice there. Doesn't sound like it's your first rodeo, Cowboy. I'll take you up on that drink now."

 

 

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"I may have been born at night, Mr. Hernandez," he calmly said while pushing his shovel up & forward, an act which would have dislocated a normal human's shoulders, "but I weren't born last night.  I've dealt with enough hucksters in mah day t'know when someone's jus' tellin' me what I want t'hear."

 

Burt Lee was actually born in early afternoon, but -- as Jack of All Blades had helpfully explained -- that didn't have quite the same ring.

 

"Now, ya wanna try that again?"

 

While he had the vampire pinned, he took a moment to really study him, particularly the necromantic magics coursing through him.  He'd already noted some similarities and differences between Javier Delgado & Strix earlier that night, but now he could get a closer look, and maybe learn more.  How badly is this affectin' yer mind, hrm?  Is there any hope for ya, or are ya just a beast what needs t'be put down?

 

On the way over, he'd been thinking about how to quickly & quietly communicate with Strix.  And an idea just hit him.  In life, Burt Lee had been a psychic, powerful but with almost no control.  Now, he channeled some of his animating energies through his own dead brain, to send out a message to any & all undead in the area (as well as anyone who was sensitive to the spirit world).

 

Hey, Strix, can ya hear me?  It's Dead Head.  I got one'a them vamps pinned down in th' basement.  A Mister Hernandez.  I was able t'study 'im a bit, an' here's what I found...

Edited by Dr Archeville
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Mister Strix

 

Another voice in my head. That's a new sensation. ...I don't like it.

 

Having just pulled his cowl back on and torn himself away from Doctor Aparo, Mister Strix was racing downstairs, dodging people in the halls while mesmerizing them all into not seeing him. He did his best to split his attention between that and focusing his thoughts back at his partner.

 

Another one?! So we still haven't found the source. Maria Delgado turned before I could get to her. She's dust now. But she might have infected two other people on her way out. I have them hypnotized and we're on our way to hijack an ambulance right now. I'm going to take them to the dungeon under the Lodge. If they turn, they won't hurt anyone else down there. Do you need backup? Or should I wait for you?

 

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GM

 

Javier Delgado and Roberto Hernandez had magical auras very similar to that of Mister Strix, but there were key differences. Fundamentally, they were all undead creatures, dead bodies animated by the energy of the Schattenwelt, life-eroding pure darkness. The conduit between the Schattenwelt and the prime material plane was an act of the darkest magic, the most foul necromancy. If that conduit was the engine of their undeath, then blood was the fuel which kept it running. But the engine in Delgado and Hernandez was attached to a smaller gas tank, and their engines didn't burn the fuel as efficiently, so they needed to be refueled more often. Strix's engine was higher quality overall, more robust. His connection to the Schattenwelt was stronger, and, correspondingly, the world of the living seemed to hate him more, reject him more harshly. Strix felt more like a typical apex predator: Solitary, discriminating, and deliberate. These others felt more like a school of piranhas, or a pack of rabid wild dogs. But the most profound difference was the state of their souls. Strix's was shredded, stained with shadows and blood, hanging in tatters, but it was still there. If these things still had more than the echo of a soul, Dead Head couldn't find it.

 

"AHHH GRRRG!" Hernandez screamed through gritted teeth as Dead Head's shovel popped one of his shoulders out of its socket. "THANKS FOR TYING THE ROPE AROUND YOUR NECK, FREAK! MAKES IT EASIER TO PULL YOUR GODDAMNED HEAD OFF!"

 

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"Pull mah head off?  Why, I'll save ya th' trouble, friend!"  Dead Head reared back a bit, then jerked forward, causing his head to detach, rolling down his chest, up Hernandez's back, over his head, and hit the floor.  It spun a bit, finally stopping on its side, looking up at the vampire.  Through this all, his grip remained as unyielding as ever.  "So, got any more threats?"

 

Nah, I got 'im.  In fact, bring 'em down to the basement morgue, I can ferry us all back to th' Lodge in one go.

 

And that's exactly what he did.

Edited by Dr Archeville
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Mister Strix

 

Good plan. Wait, you can do that? Nevermind, not now, no time. Dammit! The cop! I forgot the cop. I'll check on him, gather up the infected people, and meet you down there.

 

The man in white sprinted through the hospital, from one end to the other. He reached the operating rooms, where, as he'd predicted, Officer Thomas Molloy was being prepared for surgery. He caught a glimpse of Doctor Aparo washing her hands. He considered interrupting her, but he stopped himself. Two more days. If he's like the others, then she gets him for two more days. Then, he's mine.

 

He raced back down to the ambulance bay, gave new orders to the enthralled nurse and orderly, and followed them down to the basement, with a stretcher under each arm.

 

Are you still in contact with the dog? Have him lead Horus back to the clubhouse.

 

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Yeah, yeah, once things settle you an' I can play show an' tell.  Bring 'em all down, I should be able t'move that much mass at once.  An' his name is Mutt.

 

He contacted Mutt, asked about Esteban, then filled him in on what he'd seen and what Strix had told him.  So ya say there's someone else there with Lady Horus?  Great!  Leave th' kid with her, you an' Lady H c'mon down to th' Lodge, we'll see what there is t'do 'bout these folks.

 

--

 

Mutt was on the bed, at Esteban's feet.  He perked up suddenly, turned to Esperanza, "Where's Lady Horus?  Need to take her.  To Lodge.  For meeting.  About vampires."

 

--

 

"So, Hernandez: what happened to ya, man?"  The headless body maintained its grip, "I know it weren't no animal what bit ya.  Who was it, what'd they look like?"

Edited by Dr Archeville
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Having been working at her workbench, Wadjet spun around and leveled her gun at the dog's face, biting back a scream of surprise when it spoke. She swore in Spanish, under her breath, trying not  to wake the kid up. "Ahh, better not," she said, "she's indisposed. You know how it is." She's probably asleep in front of $(I(ng Matlock again...wait a minute. She smiled at the dog, showing teeth, and grabbed her mask. "I'm Wadjet," she said, "the Lady's Serpent. Tell me where the Lodge is and I'll meet you there." She'd heard about the vampire attack when Anna had returned with their groceries. I'll leave a note, she thought, taking up a pad to do just that. 

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Mister Strix

 

As soon as his party teleported into the dungeon level deep below the Twilight Lodge, the man in white started barking orders at the zombie guards. This sense of urgency and lack of courtesy from him was as unprecedented as the burst of activity in what used to be the least-used part of the whole building. "You, take Mister Lee to one of the silver cells and help him secure that piece of trash he's hauling. Burt, there's a fridge full of blood in the kitchen if you want a carrot to go with your stick. You, grab whoever you want from upstairs, tell them to drop whatever they're doing and help you! Make sure two more of the silver cells have fresh bedding and washing tubs, and have food and drink brought down here! Something light! No alcohol! And let the upstairs crew know that I'm expecting another guest to arrive at any moment. Let her in and bring her to my office as soon as she arrives! Show her every courtesyYou, clear off that table! NOW!" He turned back to the nurse and orderly he'd brought with him from the hospital, speaking in calm, even tones. "You're going to be my guests for a couple of days. Your patient, Ms. Delgado, had some kind of contagion, and she might have infected you. So we need to quarantine you. Public safety. This is a secure facility. We'll make you comfortable. Follow me." The two mortals both stared back at him with unfocused eyes and slack jaws and nodded slowly. He led them to the table the zombie had just cleared off, where he dumped the armful of medical supplies he'd carried with him. "Ms. Delgado's chart showed symptoms similar to the flu, so I'm going to set you up with a saline drip to keep you hydrated, and I'm going to give you every kind of post-exposure prophylaxis there is." He reassured them as he worked, injecting needles into their arms and connecting plastic tubing to bags of fluid he hung on wheeled metal racks. "Take them to their cells," he instructed the zombie guards. Once the prisoners were secured, he looked up at the ceiling, and growled, to no one in particular, "Unless they turn, these people are my guests. Leave them be." Then he whispered more orders to the guards. "I'll be back to check on them as often as I can, but keep eyes on them at all times. Task two of the incorporeals, and instruct them to remain unseen. Let me know if there's any change in their condition. If I'm not here, call me with the house line. Accommodate any requests you can - books, games, food, drink, anything to make them more comfortable. But no booze. Blood thinners are the last thing they need right now. And do not open those cells without my approval, under any circumstances. If the pattern holds, then in three days, either they'll stay alive, or they'll die, they'll get back up, and I'll have to put them back down again."

 

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GM

 

Mutt led Wadjet across the river to the southern shore of Bedlam, up the steep hills past the docks and warehouses of the Greely Point harbor and down to the southeast slopes, where the oak and elm trees loomed over Griswold Street, shading the 19th-century mansions where the oldest of Bedlam's old money slept. The house Mutt tried to lead her to was the largest one she could see, when she could see it. But it took her a few tries. The trees and grass near it were all grey, dried out and dead. That seemed like it should bother her, but it made a strange kind of sense. She kept losing track of Mutt, kept wandering toward one of the neighboring houses instead, before he'd run back in front of her and start herding her again. She kept forgetting where she was going. It was hard to look directly at the house for very long.

 

Once the ghost-dog practically dragged her to the front door, the light bulbs inside the twin glass paneled ironwrought lamps mounted on either side of the doors came on, and the double mahogany doors opened, seemingly by themselves. A raspy voice hissed, "Pleeeeease, come inssside. Weee've been expecting you."

 

 

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Dead Head, now fully recapitated, dragged the creature that had been Roberto Hernandez into one of the cells, and clapped his wrists and ankles in silvered manacles.  "There, that oughta holdja.  Now, just sit tight, I'll be back in a bit with-" he thought briefly about the fridge Strix had mentioned, pondered where it was getting blood from, and decided that was a topic for another time, "with somethin' ta tide ya over."

 

He turned to the zombie guard that had accompanied him.  "Captain" Hank Way, a racist & misogynist first lieutenant whose egomania and cowardice got his entire platoon killed during the first year of the Korean War, had managed to smuggle himself back into the States and became a bodyguard for one of the Lodge's former owners.  That position did not last long.  The demon's claws gouged out the left half of his face and throat; ragged strips of gray flesh clung weakly to his yellowed skull.  "I'm goin' up to th' library, got some things ta research.   Pass word along ta Strix, he'll wanna hear what I've found."  He sent Mutt a similar message, then headed on his way.

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Wadjet 

 

Esperanza considered this situation for a moment. "Is this a creepy sex cult thing?" Good thing I loaded up for vampire before we left. She'd slipped a crucifix inside her costume before she came out, but she wasn't at all sure how well that would work given that the last few years had taught her that the only god was an old lady who fell asleep at 10PM watching Matlock and who she'd had to tell to stop making Speedy Gonzales jokes before she got a bomb up the ass. She considered what she would do if it was, and what she would do if they came for her - and she smiled, her lip curling into a snarl. "Because I'm not into that, pendejos." She stepped into the house, gun at the ready.

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GM

 

Hernandez averted his eyes and growled when the silver bars of his cell came into view, and he started hissing and groaning and writhing in pain the second Dead Head clamped the silver manacles on his wrists, but the second the manacles went on his superhuman strength vanished. His flesh audibly sizzled under the silver, and the smell of burning flesh quickly filled the cell.

 

Quote

"Is this a creepy sex cult thing? Because I'm not into that, pendejos."

 

The front doors to the mansion closed themselves behind Wadjet, just as they had opened themselves for her. She stood in an antechamber with mahogany paneled walls and a marble floor covered by a large Persian rug. Several smaller mats lined the walls, and the antechamber was flanked with closets on both sides. Another set of double-doors waited at the other end of the antechamber. 

 

A large man with yellow-tinted and bloodshot eyes peeking out from under dark bushy eyeybrows stood behind one of the doors. He wore a suit that looked like something she'd seen in movies about Jack The Ripper or Sherlock Holmes, with a white shirt and matching bow tie and gloves, framed by a black jacket, vest, and trousers. A couple different colors of fluid had leaked through the suit in a few places, forming dark spots. The flesh on his head was grey with a greenish tint to it, and in total, roughly one-third of it was missing (including one of his ears), exposing the skull underneath in a dozen different spots.

 

He chuckled. "I think youuu...willlll find the stahhhfff here...woooeeefully unnnderrrr-equipped...for such ahhhctiiivitiesss. Ssshhhaaahhhlll I...take your coat? Pleeease, follow meee."

 

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Wadjet stepped inside, smirked - and suddenly the situation changed as she felt invisible fingers seeming to poke and prod their way through her mind.

 

She racked the slide on her gun and pointed it not her host but at the floor at their feet. "Que te jodan, hijo de puta! You bring me Strix right now!" If she'd been daring the zombie at the door to start a fight before, she was promising one now. It wasn't too late to hit her bugout alert to Lady Horus and have her enter through the  roof while she was at it. She didn't like being angry and afraid and she knew the best way to handle that was to hurt things until she felt better. 

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GM

 

The zombie butler's yellowed and bloodshot eyes widened and he leaned back on his feet when Wadjet chambered the round in her rifle. He raised a fist to cover his mouth and cleared his throat.

 

"Begging your paaahhhrrrdon, Miss, but that would beee mossst improper. Our employer gave spessscific instructionsss to essscort you to hisss office immeeediately upon your arrival. Weee bring guesssts to him, if he chooooossses to receive them. We do not drag him away from hisss affairsss and demand that he attend to the whimsss of othersss. He is the president of the Twilight Lodge, the cussstodian of our fates, not some guttersnipe to be thrown a half-penny and sssent on an errand. If it would make you feeeeelllll more comfortable, then by all meansss, keep your weapon at the ready. With none of the mortal membersss of the Lodge currently in rezzzsidence, you will harm no one sssave for yourssself. Now, shall you accompany me, or shall I relay the messsssage to my employer that his guest has left the premissses?"

 

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"Holdjer horses, Monty," a new -- though equally raspy -- voice rang out.

 

Out of a shadowy corner, twin pinpoints of blue-green flame appeared, in the eyesockets of another corpse that shambled out.  This one bore no obvious injuries, though its entire body was the angry purple of a day-old bruise.  It had long, unkempt light grey hair, and was clad in biker attire -- boots, black leather pants, a white tee shirt, and a leather jacket over that -- all very well-worn, with numerous holes and tears.  Another look revealed that the flames weren't in empty sockets, but covering intact eyeballs.

 

"Don't mind him none, ma'am," it said to Wadjet, "Monty's still sore on account'a all the wealth he 'cumulated in life couldn't buy his way to an easier afterlife, what with all the murder he'd done t'get it."  She realized it was a Southern drawl, and not its rictus grin, that affected its speech.  The new undead turned its head -- and only its head -- to face the doorman, "g'wan, now.  She's with Mutt, which means she's with me.  I got it from here."

 

The purple zombie's head rotated all the way around until it was facing Wadjet again, and looked her up and down.  "Hunh.  We was expectin' Lady Horus, but Mutt told me it was you was comin'.  Yer Wadjet, yeah?"  He extended his right hand, and its rictus grin grew a bit wider, "folks call me Dead Head.  Welcome to th' Twilight Lodge!"

Edited by Dr Archeville
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