2 Home

Trudging through the forested path, I clear a path with each swing of my scythe. Left and right, left and right. Grass flies around as I clear up the area as much as I can, wanting to make a clear passage to come to this spot again.

The forest I was going through was beautiful. Bright and healthy green leaves appear everywhere, outnumbering the many colour full flowers there.

Each step I take through the grass takes me even deeper into the thicket. The grass grows taller, and the flowers more sparse. The trail of the rays of sunlight mark my path back home. I follow the path tirelessly, my arms unaffected by the limitations of living flesh. My stench attracts a fair bit of attention from the local fauna.

Swarms of flies would come close to me, but I always dissuaded them from coming too near with liberal use of incenses. Scavengers and corpse cleaners would come across me, and they would observe me. By every right of biology, I should be dead, but I am not, and their hungry bodies always leads them to finding other sources of food.

Crossing deeper into the forest, there comes a point where everything darkens as if night claimed the forest, but wander a little bit further, and you'll leave that area, and enter a beautiful meadow, with a quaint house in the middle. I enter this meadow, and approach the house.

I rest my scythe back onto my shoulder, blade up. The ground I tread on was fertile soil, not the best, nor the worst, but was great for giving crops each season without trouble.

Currently, the ground was littered with the stalks and stems of various vegetables. I made my way to one of them, kneeled and felt the leaf of one of them, humming a small note for myself. I stand back up with a small grin, and continue moving towards the house.

If anybody were with him, their would most likely be confused with how a house in the meadow was so simple. Surely, nobody who lived here would be normal!

It was only a small house. Only three rooms in total. Opening the door, I was greeted with the living room. I had a small stove in one corner, coupled with a small cupboard near it to store spices. In the far end of the room was a small table with 1 chair to it, where I would eat my meals. I also had a small fireplace. Of course I had no need of it, but this was only for people who visited me, if they needed the warmth. I stepped into the storage room, filled with all the tools of my craft. Setting the scythe down, I move back into the living room.

Remember how I said there was 3 rooms? That was a technicality. My last room consisted of a bed and the coldest room in the house. A foldable screen was in the middle to quickly close it up if need be. I go into the room and sigh, watching my breath fog over, before going to sleep. I may be a zombie, but that doesn't mean sleep didn't serve a purpose.