Death After Death 19-20 (Patreon)

Ch. 19 - Eye of the Storm

Thinking fast, Simon rushed across the room and brained the two that were trying to struggle their way through the gap in the boards. They just flopped there, like the world’s most disgusting cork, and their dead weight mostly kept the rest of them from coming through. He looked around and grabbed the closest trestle table, knocking it over to make a crude barrier. Then he started shoving it towards the breach. It was heavier than it looked though, and going was slow. By the time he was halfway there he had to take a break, pick up his mace, and go for the new one that was trying to climb its way over the top of the other two lifeless corpses who had already breached the window.

“Can I get a little help over here,” he called out in annoyance as he smashed the latest corpse three times before it finally stopped twitching. Though at least it seemed like none of the other boards were breaking under the strain, so if he could block this gap off it would probably hold for a while.

“Yeah. Right,”  the woman said, finally stirring herself to action as she finally did something besides pointing her knife at anything that moved. She joined Simon as he put his back into it, and seconds later the table slammed against the wall, crushing the zombie corpses with a wet crunch.

Simon stretched and took a look around the room after that. Looking for any other threats and finding none. The common room was completely trashed obviously, and a few dead bodies lay amongst the toppled tables and scattered crockery, but most of the furniture had been piled messily to block the front door.

“Not exactly the place to grab a pint and wait for this all to blow over, is it?” Simon asked with a laugh, but when he turned around to face the dark haired girl, she was just looking blankly at her hands, and the wall of dead just outside the window. It was the first time Simon noticed that she was splattered with blood.

“You okay over there sole survivor? You get bit or anything?” Simon asked.

“No, I - it’s not mine. It’s Brenna… she just… and then I-I—” the girl started crying then. She’d obviously had to do something terrible to survive this long, but Simon wasn’t terribly interested. Her tears were making him uncomfortable.

While she started to sob he turned around to give her some privacy and started searching the first floor of this building. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was looking for. More zombies? The next floor? Something to eat? It didn’t matter. Right now all that mattered was giving his mystery girl a chance to calm down so he could find out what had happened.

The first floor revealed a well stocked bar, a kitchen that had definitely seen some bloodshed, a set of stairs leading to the cellar, a second set that led up to rooms on the second floor, a looted pantry, and a random assortment of dead bodies scattered throughout. It was pretty gross honestly. Some of them had been dead longer than others and were really starting to smell.

Not ready to face the crying girl yet, Simon started upstairs. He supposed he should do something about that of course, but he wasn’t any good with those sorts of emotions. He just didn’t have much experience in that area. If Women were a category on his character sheet they would probably be rated at very poor along with spellcasting. The difference between the two of course was that Simon had some idea of how to get better at using magic, but women were still a complete mystery to him.

Upstairs wasn’t much different than downstairs, and as he went room to room, ready for a fight he found no new zombies. When he got to a room that faced the front of the end though all he could do was stop and stare as he got a good look out of an open window. For the first time in his life his jaw literally dropped as he looked at the horror this city had become.

From the common room all he could see were boards with glimpses of zombies struggling just beyond them, but the view from the second floor he could see just how much carnage there really was. He was in a medieval city, or at least the corpse of one, because whatever had happened here had definitely killed it. The living dead were crowding the streets in both directions as far as he could see in both directions, and here and there buildings were on fire. It was a complete mess.

Suddenly Simon was struck with a pang of remorse. He regretted his joke about the pub from that horror movie. This wasn’t a joke. They were real people. At least they were to the girl downstairs, and he should try to respect that. For a moment he thought about continuing his search to try to find the door to the next floor, but his remorse won out and he came back downstairs to see if the mystery girl had calmed down.

She had, and was sitting at a table when he got downstairs. She immediately picked up her knife again when she saw  him, but at least she refrained from pointing it at him when he raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Easy there, ummm Ma’am” he said, walking slowly over to the bar and digging around for a rag before he dampened it with a half empty mug of beer and set it down on the table in front of her.

She just kept staring at him suspiciously, so he finally said, “For your hands,” before he sat down at the table on the opposite side. She looked like she needed a whole lot of space right now, and he was much happier to give that to her than to be stabbed.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, wiping off one hand. Once it was clean though she just stared at both her hands. One clean, one caked in dried blood, before she finally looked up at Simon with a hint of panic in her eyes. “I had to, you understand? I didn’t want to hurt Brenna, but then she…” The woman trailed off into silence after that, making the whole situation that much more awkward for Simon.

“Hey, don’t worry about that,” he said, trying to sound sympathetic, even if it was really strange finally talking to someone new again. His life had finally come unpaused, and this woman would do for now. Maybe there were other people he could meet on other levels too. “You did what you had to do. Anyone could see that. This is a nightmare, and you can figure out what was right and what was wrong after you wake up from it.”

“Really,” she asked, tears in her eyes. “You understand?”

“I do. Killing someone is hard,” he lied. Dying was hard, but killing the other guy before they killed you - that had become the easiest thing in the world for Simon. “You’ll get through this, and then it won’t seem so bad… Now what’s your name?”

“It-it’s Freya,” she stammered.

“That’s a very pretty name,” Simon said, even though it seemed out of place anywhere but a viking movie. Who knew though, maybe this fantasy kingdom had some kind of viking subculture. “I’m Simon. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Si-mon?” she asked, mispronouncing the letters of the unfamiliar word, but that didn’t bother him. “You’ve got a strange accent Simon. Where are you from? Why are you in Schwarzenbruck?”

“Ummm… I got lost on my way north,” he fumbled for an answer. “Before everything had gotten crazy. Do you know what happened here?”

“I don’t. Not really. I don’t think anyone does,” she shook her head. “One moment it was just a normal spring day, and the next - well the next the gods had abandoned us to evil.”

“I mean - was there some necromancer, or maybe an evil army of the dead attacked the city?” Simon tried again, trying to get a better handle on what was happening. “Where did all these zombies come from?”

“I don’t know,” Freya said, finally starting to clean off her other hand as her mind switched on after hours of shock and denial. “Mr Olggen, the owner. He said that they’d barred the gates when the adventurers had come back complaining about a plague of death, but somehow they got inside anyway.”

Not likely Simon thought. These zombies didn’t seem particularly fast or strong. One of those adventurers must have gotten themselves bit, and then a few hours later turn on their fellows, spreading the disease. That’s how it would have happened in a movie anyway. It gave him something to think about at least, as he studied Freya looking for any sign that she was bitten, but finding nothing. She was a lovely girl. Under all the dirt and signs of crying, with dark hair and a cute, if not particularly well endowed body. She wasn’t his type, but he was sure she’d make someone happy someday if she survived this.

“Do you suppose there’s still enough food left in this place for you to make us something to eat?” Simon asked as he saw her start to tear up again. “I’m going to check all the other rooms to make sure that there’s nothing in here that can hurt us, and then I’m going to get rid of these bodies before they attract vermin.”

“Get rid of the bodies?” she asked numbly. “How?”

“From one of the windows on the second floor. I know its not the kindest thing to do,” he added quickly as he saw a look of shock bloom across her face, “but if we leave them here we’ll be sick in no time. You don’t want that, do you?”

“No, but—” she started to say.

“Well then you make us some lunch Freya, while I go work up an appetite,” he said, standing. She obviously didn’t agree with the decision, but she didn’t protest it either, so Simon got started. He checked the basement first, and found plenty of beer, but thankfully no dead bodies. After that he dragged all nine bodies on the first floor up to the second with frequent breaks, because it was exhausting. The third floor held only a single room on one side of the building, that must have belonged to the owner because it was nicer than the rest, and storage on the other side. That was where they would sleep tonight, he decided, because it seemed the most defensible. So once he was done with the bodies he dragged a couple mattresses upstairs so that Freya would have a place to sleep too.

When he finally got downstairs she’d reheated some mystery stew that looked a little suspect, but tasted delicious. Simon didn’t even care that his next death would probably be from food poisoning. He was just glad that it was neither bread nor cheese for once. That alone made it almost as good as his last real meal of fast food nuggies and extra dipping sauce.

They talked through lunch and after, and slowly Freya opened up more and more. Apparently there had been a necromancer, but he’d been defeated years ago, and no one had paid much attention to this backwater after that. Other than the occasional goblin raid it had been a nice place to grow up, until the dead had risen up and killed everyone she’d ever known anyway. Every time Freya started to get sad, Simon tried to change the topic, but fortunately they ran out of daylight before they ran out of topics.

“Don’t even think of trying anything,” Freya warned him as she slipped into bed fully clothed. “I’m sleeping with this knife. Just so you know.”

“The last thing a hero like me would do is take advantage of a woman,” Simon assured her, offended by the suggestion. This world obviously had a lot more problems with toxic masculinity than his did, but he could forgive her for the accusation. The world was a pretty crazy place right now.

Simon had already taken his armor off during dinner, but he stacked it up neatly after he barred the door and hung his weapons in easy reach in case something went bump in the night. After that he crawled into bed and stripped down to his smallclothes. This mattress was filled with something besides straw so it was actually a lot more comfortable than the one he’d grown used to in the cabin. Even with that it felt pretty strange to be sleeping anywhere but the bed he’d grown so used to the past few weeks.

Weeks? Days? He wasn’t really sure how much time had passed in the pit. He had no way to keep track of that sort of thing. The only measure he had was how many times he died, and this life was one of his longest so far. Simon tried to puzzle it out anyway, but fell asleep before he could come up with a conclusive answer.

Ch. 20 - Keeping her Safe

Sometime in the middle of the night Simon was awoken. Not by the sound of zombies overrunning the place like he’d expected though, but by Freya crawling into bed with him.

“I had a nightmare,” she whispered. “Do you think that I could… maybe…”

“Sure, fine,” Simon answered, yawning. “Don’t worry. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” He scooted over as much as he could on the narrow twin bed, and Freya crawled under the two raggedy quilts he was sleeping under along with a burst of cold air. There was no way he could not touch her, but Simon rolled over to avoid any misunderstandings, and promptly fell back asleep.

He was somewhat surprised when he woke up later in the night and found her clinging to him while she slept like a drowning victim. It was both adorable and creepy, and Simon lay awake for almost an hour appreciating it. It had been a long time since he’d hugged anyone but his parents, and he hadn’t been in a bed with a girl this pretty since his freshman year in college. He’d forgotten how soft and warm they could be, as well as how good they could smell.

Simon fell asleep again sometime before dawn, and when he woke up she was gone. That realization made him bolt upright protectively, but as soon as he smelled the familiar scents of breakfast, he calmed down.

“Everything is fine,” he told himself. “Helades probably just hasn’t found the time to fuck you over yet.” It was funny, he reflected as he got dressed and came down stairs. He’d had one tiny little taste of normalcy and a brief human connection, and suddenly he was worried it was all going to get jerked away from him.

Breakfast was fried potatoes and sausages. “I’m sorry that we’re out of eggs,” Freya apologized. “We ran out of those a few days ago.” That statement sparked a conversation that lasted longer than breakfast. She’d been trapped in here longer than he’d thought. Over a week now, and though they’d been ten at first, and four a few days ago, it was just her now. It sounded like there was a lot to that story, but Simon didn’t want to pry.

After breakfast Simon busied himself methodically searching the inn from top to bottom as he opened every door and cupboard one at a time. This led to some strange looks from Freya, though Simon ignored them until she finally asked, “What is it you are doing?” Freya demanded. “If you need something I can show you where—”

“I’m looking for a way out to the next floor.” he said simply, not bothering to stop what he was doing.

“Way out? Next floor?” She asked again. “There is no way out. We’re trapped here until the king raises an army to slay the dead.”

“No,” he said dismissively. “Not a way out of the building. That would be suicide. I’m looking for a way out of this level and on to the next one. You could come with me if you want.”

“Level? You’re scaring me Simon. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” she answered. That’s what finally made him close the closet that held extra stools under the stairs and look at her. She hadn’t picked the knife back up yet, but the look in her eyes showed him that she wanted to.

That cold, confused look suddenly made him feel very small. There was no way an NPC could understand what he was talking about. Not that Freya was an NPC exactly, but the parallel was still a good one. There was no way she would understand. Not until he found what he was looking for and he showed her.

“It’s fine,” He said, trying to play it off. “I just wanted to see if maybe there were any old crawl spaces or gaps between the levels we might be able to use to get to the neighboring buildings to try to get more supplies.”

She nodded at that explanation, and claimed to believe him, she looked at him strangely for hours afterwards.

That night at bedtime she didn’t even try to get into her own med. She just looked at him expectantly until he reluctantly nodded and said “alright, come on.”

She still gave him a look as she crawled into bed and said, “Thank you… but that doesn't mean we’re doing anything besides sharing a little warmth. You keep your hands to yourself or you’ll regret it.”

Simon nodded. He knew the drill, but this time their cuddling was intentional, and he fell asleep with the smell of her hair, and the feeling of her body pressed against him as they spooned together while she started snoring softly next to him. It was a moment that was so perfect that it brought tears to his eyes as he reflected on how alone he’d felt for so long. Not just all the time he’d been in the pit either, but before that too. The games had filled the whole that the missing people had left in his life, at least he thought they had. He obviously hadn’t been entirely right about that, but he hadn’t known that until he held a beautiful woman like Freya in his arms.

Simon spent the next few days looking for a way out, but increasingly he was coming to the conclusion that it had to be in one of the nearby buildings. This zombie level would have been much too easy otherwise, he decided. Even if that made perfect sense for the goddess though, he wasn’t really interested in looking. Increasingly the best part of his day was waking up next to his barmaid and listening to her tell him stories about her strange world, and considering that even if he found the way to the next level, the only reward that waited him was some new awful way to die, he was in no hurry to find it. Not when they still had plenty of food to eat and beer to drink.

On the fifth night they got well and truly drunk the first time to celebrate the fact that they were out of bread. It started off with Simon trying to explain to her that beer was originally known by the ancient Sumerians as liquid bread, and it quickly went out of control from there.

“You're funny,” Freyia said, leaning uncomfortably close to him after he went off on another rant about places she’d never heard of. Simon found that distracting, but not as distracting as when they started kissing.

Simon hadn’t kissed a girl like this in years, and between the way she tasted, and the way she smiled at him, he would have been sure that he was in love from that first moment, if he believed in stupid things like that.

“What was that for,” he asked dumbly when the moment was over.

“Well you’re the hero, right?” She asked sweetly. “That’s what the hero is supposed to get in all the stories anyway.”

Simon's mind was racing as he tried to process all the unfamiliar emotions that were racing through his mind, and sat there like a deer in the headlights. A note of disappointment crept into Freya’s voice at that response. “Why didn’t you like—”

He was quick to stop her from finishing that thought at least, and kissed her back as hard as she’d kissed him. After that the rest of the night became a blur as they stumbled back to their dark room and their small bed. This time at least they didn’t go to bed fully clothed, but they didn’t have sex either. Simon knew it would be wrong to take advantage of Freya while she was intoxicated, as much as he might want to.

He feared that in the morning things might be weird, but she seemed as upbeat as ever. When he tried to bring up later that day once his hangover had cleared up, she dodged the question. “A girl’s gotta do whatever she has to, to keep you from talking about bread, all night, doesn’t she?”

Simon laughed at that, only mildly offended. She was probably right. He could get a bit lost in all of his useless trivia once he’d had a beer or two. Still, taking a little verbal abuse was worth getting to see her breasts last night, he decided, and he was happy to let her tease him the rest of the day while he followed her around like a puppy.

After a couple days it practically became their routine. Sleep in late, relax during the day while they tried to ignore the fact that death was constantly waiting for them just on the other side of every door, and then get drunk and make out for a few hours. Simon could quite bring himself to go all the way, because he felt like he didn’t know her well enough for that, but that was fine. He was perfectly happy with the way things had blossomed between them, and didn’t want it to ever end. All he knew was that when he left this place for the next level he was going to take Freya with him. This was just the start of his party. It was one more advantage he was going to have over everyone else that had gone before him.

Simon didn’t even have a weapon on him as he heard the back door give way. They were just sitting in the common room while they waited for the last of the sausages to boil. Simon should have thought that was a problem, but they were running low on firewood, so he didn’t really care. Like he’d been doing all week, he was just enjoying Freyia’s company, falling for her a little more, when the sound of splintering wood ended the moment of peace. Thinking fast he grabbed Freya by the wrist and yanked her to her feet, as he ran towards the stairs.

Simon had checked the windows earlier, but he’d never thought that they might be able to bust down the backdoor itself. That was actually a real problem because it was closer to the stairwell than they were at the moment. It was only when they got to the hallway Simon could see that they were too late. There was no way he was getting past the half a dozen zombies that had already gotten inside without his armor and his mace.

“This way,” he said, reluctantly retreating towards the door that led to the basement.  In the long run it was a terrible position to be in. There would be no way out, but in the short run it was the sturdiest door that Simon could put between the two of them and certain death.

“How did they get it?” Freya asked, still trying to process what was happening.

“The back door gave way,” Simon said, making sure that the basement door shut behind him. That made it close to pitch black in here without a lantern. The only light came in through the cracks between the floorboards, but that was still better than the alternative. At least that’s what Simon thought at first. Once the dead started to fill up the tavern en masse. Not only did that blot out most of their remaining light, but the way that zombies milled about, and the creeks that the floor gave in protest were terrifying.

“Are we going to die now?” Freya whined, overwhelmed by fear and sadness, not that Simon could blame her.

“Why would we die?” he asked rhetorically. “They can’t get us down here, and while there isn't much food down here there’s plenty of beer. We can live for weeks off that, until someone rescues us.”

It was all technically true, but he considered it pretty unlikely. That just wasn’t the way that zombie movies ended. Pretty much every zombie movie he’d ever seen ended with everyone dying. Sometimes a couple would escape while the rest of the group perished, but he had neither a helicopter or a boat to get them to safety. He didn’t even have a horse or a window to climb out of. All he had was a beautiful woman to protect.

Which was one more thing than he usually had, he thought hopefully. No, Simon was sure he could figure a way out of this… at least until he started to smell smoke.

At first he hoped it was in his imagination, but when Freya added, “Something’s on fire,” he knew they were in trouble. Looking towards the kitchen he could see immediately what had happened. One of the zombies milling around the kitchen had knocked over the meat they were cooking and scattered hot coals across the floor.

Simon felt around for a keg that was actually tapped,  and then took off his shirt and wet it. “Put this over your mouth.” he said. “It will keep the smoke out.” With any luck the cook fire would just smolder for a little bit, and then go out on its own.

Luck wasn’t with them though, and minutes later the cellar was filling with smoke. The damp cloth was helping some, but not enough, and they were both coughing almost constantly now. At least they were until Freya passed out from smoke inhalation. “I’m so sorry Freya,” Simon whispered as he cradled her unconscious body in his arms. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you.”

Passing out from carbon monoxide poisoning was definitely less painful than most of the ways he’d died so far, but even if his life wasn’t precious, hers was, watching it slip away one slow heartbeat at a time was worse than anything that had happened to him so far.

(Author’s Note: I feel like maybe this chapter should be lengthened and split into two chapters, but I didn’t want to dwell on Simon’s love story too much. Let me know what you think. Does it need more?)