On His Own

[Asila]

"Uh..." She couldn't find the words at first. It was frightening, how fast his arm was turning color. She had never seen anything like it, never even heard of such a thing. And this feeling...fear...was sharpening everything. For the first time in...well, she didn't know how long, but she could think clearly again for the first time in a very long time. She grimaced, hating this new state of mind. Ugh! How did sane people stay sane? She couldn't even guess. She felt Sparrow move up beside, clearly affected by her anxiety. The cougar studied Avon now with greater intensity since he seemed to be the cause of his mistress' anxiety. Still, for the time being, the cat would do no more than stare.

At some point during her silent mental struggle, Aileen discovered that she could speak again. Calmly, even. She was proud of herself. "Your arm is getting worse." She moved forward, reaching for the injured appendage as though she meant to take a closer look. Her main intention, however, was just to draw attention to it. Avon seemed so absorbed in the statuette and she wanted to make sure he heard her. She didn't like how quickly that wound was changing color and didn't want to waste even a moment in trying to get his attention.

[Rojo]

Avon looked down to his arm. It had turned a nasty grey now. He yelped and jumped back. He ripped off the arm of his robe, revealing the fleshy grey wound in its fullest. He gulped. Then he yelped again because there was something behind Aileen at the end of the corridoor.

The Osten-Zombie moaned...another followed, and another, and another, until the whole end of the corridoor was full of the living dead, all slowly creeping towards Aileen.

The Archaeologist lifted his right hand slowly, as if his arm was rusted. Then he pointed behind Aileen. He turned and ran, moving through the open doorway and into the ominously lit purple passages. The light made things hard to see, and at least three times, Avon almost hit walls. But eventually he ran into a half collapsed chamber, where fractions of the ceiling were letting in beams of moonlight.

Avon paused to catch his breath. Then something put its hand around his mouth...
His nostrils were suddenly bombarded by a horrible, rotting, disgusting smell.
He flailed, trying to get away, but he was dragged into the shadows...

[Asila]

Aileen froze when she heard something moan behind her, eyes wide. She could neither move nor breath for a few impossibly long seconds. Oh, she was really beginning to miss that vagueness of thought that kept such extreme emotions at bay!

When Avon lifted his hand slowly to point behind her, looking just as terrified as she felt, she didn't even look behind her. Just now, she didn't even want to know what lay behind her. But when her companion turned and ran...

Aileen swallowed, turned around slowly...and screamed before she could stop herself. Sparrow was already between her and the undead Osten mob, his fur bristling and his snarls quickly rising in intensity as he attempted the impossible and tried to stare the zombies down. Fortunately he wasn't forced to fight the undead as they shambled ever closer, for Aileen broke free of the paralysis that held her rooted to the spot and ran in the direction that Avon had taken. Away.

She too had a few close calls with the walls as the raced through the passageways and was surprised by a few sudden twists and turns. She felt as though she could have run forever if it meant she didn't have to face those things, but eventually she met with a dead end. The passageway soon opened up into a room that was empty save for one elaborately carved stone door that she could not open. Swallowing back her fear, she turned. She had half expected to find the entire collection of undead Osten just behind her, but there was nothing there save for Sparrow, who had turned to watch the doorway when Aileen came to a stop. Still, she didn't want to go back through those halls and try to find another way out when only the gods knew what was lurking beyond that doorway. And yet, waiting here for them to find her didn't seem like the best choice either.

She remembered being told once that when you became lost, it was best to wait where you were for someone to find you. Matris was here somewhere, so she may as well wait and hope that he would take care of this. In the meantime...

Aileen pulled out the only weapon the owned, a well-worn though very sharp hunting knife, and kept a close eye on the open doorway as she waited for someone, something, to come for her. She only hoped that she wouldn't have to use it, because with this new alertness she knew that there was only so much that a human with a knife and a cougar could do against such a daunting number of the undead.