Entry tags:

!@event, !closed, azazel

Who: Azazel
What: Raising the zombies
When: Tonight at midnight
Where: Cemetery
Status: One-Shot Narrative; Complete

Why can't we ever get zombies? I'm good with zombies. Those words, typed so innocently by a teenage girl, had led Azazel to where he was now. As he'd said at the time, who was he to deny such a lovely young lady her request? He'd kept the thought in the back of his mind all during the past few weeks during which he and everyone else had been forced to speak honestly and openly about their feelings, a situation he had absolutely despised, but he'd adapted readily enough. And now, that things were 'back to normal', well....he couldn't let the people here grow complacent, now could he? Especially teenage girls who had a love for fighting zombies.

Oh, he was going to be careful, of course. Toe the line, and all that. No one would be permanently hurt from this little game of his - if they got bit, they'd die, become a zombie for a time - then be back to normal by the end, whenever he grew bored. But oh, how much fun it would be to see everyone's reaction when the savages began roaming the streets on the hunt for flesh and blood. He truly had to remember to thank the lovely Judith for her suggestion the first chance he got.

At the moment, he stood in the cemetery in the dead of night, breathing in the chilled, still air. It didn't really matter what time of day he did this - it could have worked just as well at high noon. But Azazel was nothing if not an appreciator of atmosphere - and you needed a certain kind of flare for raising the dead. Closing his eyes (one looking at him would still see the yellow gleam through his eyelids), he knelt in one smooth motion and lay an open palm upon the soil. He spoke the words in Latin because he was a traditionalist, though his tone was low and intimate.

"Voco vos, o mortuis semper sub terra
Exaudi vocant, resurges
Epulis carnis ossis et sanguinis vivi
Nunc tuum est et modo, donec tandem verbis te exaudi verba mea."

Beneath his hand, deep in the soil, he could feel the first stirrings, and he smiled slowly as his eyes opened. Standing, he dusted off his hands, then began to walk off, back towards the arch leading the way out, leaving the soon to be walking dead to drag themselves to the surface as they saw fit.