Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 DEATH BECOMES HER by Invid Fan (c)2013

   Chapter 2



   It watched him.

   It had memory, now.  Hours of memory.  Had it ever had memory?  Did it
know what memory was?  Had it even existed, before coming to the man in the
snow?

   It couldn't remember.

   It stood, she stood, against the wall, watching the two talk.  Watching
HIM talk, sounds coming from his head.

   Sounds...  meanings...

   What was meaning?  She didn't know.  So much she didn't know.

   The furry creature frightened her.  Frightened as only something in this
strange world could.  She could no longer see the orange creatures that had
been eating her man, preparing him for her touch.  They were gone. 
Vanished.

   Or...  she just could not see them.

   Ve, white eyes wide, focused again on the beautiful man.  The beautiful,
alien man...

   ****

   "So, why were you out there?"

   His question surprised Menolly.  Wasn't that what she should be asking?
Did he think she looked too ill to be out by herself?

   "I was hunting down a dog who should have known better than to wander
off in a snowstorm." Canth licked her hand, as if in apology.  Then, as if
he had done his duty, the brown half lab stood and ambled over to where
Jeff sat on the couch.  She tried not to be jealous as the man petted her
friend.  "What about you?  What sane person travels alone in a storm?"

   He laughed.  Jeff was handsome when he laughed.  She had to admit that.
His short black hair and day's growth of beard did fit him.  Still being
shirtless helped, too.  Menolly liked her men topless.  And bottomless.

   "Something stupid, really.  I was supposed to go riding with a couple
buddies, bring our girls along.  You know, hit the trails, stop at some
small town bars.  That kind of thing.  Well, Stacy had to cancel, some
family thing, and it turns out I got the weekend wrong.  So, I show up, and
I'm the only one there.  After a few phone calls confirm my stupidity, I
decide to just ride anyway as long as I'm out here.  I was out in the
middle of nowhere when the storm really started, and using the GPS I
figured I could cut cross country to get to my truck."

   Menolly put a hand to her forehead.

   "They mark those trails for a reason."

   "Yeah, but cutting a few miles off the trip seemed like a good idea."

   "Shortcuts make long delays."

   He blinked at her.

   "What?"

   "Never mind." Menolly looked out the window.  "I think we can safely say
you'll be spending the night here.  Is anyone waiting for you?"

   He shook his head.  Canth, having decided the man had been graced with
his company long enough, moved back to Menolly.  Reaching her, he turned,
looking over towards the wall near the bedroom door.  She scratched his
head.

   "Is our friend staying put, Canth?"

   "She's just standing there," Jeff said.  "It's freaky."

   She was sure it was.  Ai freaked her, still, even after all these years.
The kids were OK.  Perhaps because they were only half...  well, half
whatever Ai was.  Maybe if she spent more time there, had a chance to
really get to know the blue skinned girl...

   She stood.  Canth stood as well, ready to follow.

   "I'm going to put the kettle on.  Do you want anything?"

   "Have any beer?"

   "No.  If you have a supply out on your machine, you're welcome to go get
it."

   "Water's fine, then."

   "If you find water a good replacement for your brand of beer, your taste
is worse than I suspected."

   Menolly smiled as she turned away.  The problem with going off to be by
yourself, she had found, was that you were by yourself.  The joys of
solitude eventually became boredom.  Having someone to mentally spar with,
even if they weren't all that well armed, was definitely refreshing. 
Maybe, when she went back, she'd go visit Ai.  Spend some time down there.
With the kids.  Violet had said something about them opening up a huge new
section.  There might be room for her to be alone, yet NOT be alone.  The
best of both worlds.

   She turned the stove on.  It was a camping stove, propane.  It looked
weird, on the counter next to the electric refrigerator.  That was her
brother, mixing whatever was practical with no regard for esthetics.  A
cast iron wood burning stove gave the cabin what heat it had, a small gas
generator giving her electricity for the lights and refrigerator.  Water
came from a well, the pump outside.

   All the luxuries of home.

   Opening the refrigerator, she pulled out the jug of water, filling a
large cup.  Still a lot left.  That was good.  Still, as long as she had a
hunky man here, maybe he could go out back and work the pump...

   "Menolly..."

   His voice was weak.

   Shit.

   ****

   Jeff, slowly, lowered himself onto the couch.  He felt tired.  Numb.  It
had come suddenly.  A strange feeling, one which brought back hazy memories
of childhood illnesses.  The couch, so much like one half remembered, made
him question the reality of this.

   Again.

   "Hope you don't mind," he said, letting go a sigh as his head hit the
pillow.  His eyes were already closed.

   "Nope.  The couch is yours." He heard the humor in the strange woman's
voice.  There was concern there, yes, but more humor.  Resentment, too, at
this intrusion into her life, but with the acceptance that this wasn't his
fault.  "Hell," she added, "now I don't have to worry about how to kick you
out of my bed without looking like a bitch."

   "I never stay in a bed where I'm not wanted." Now that he was
horizontal, fatigue overwhelmed him.  His feet were still on the ground,
the effort to raise them seemingly too much.  Reality was fading.

   "Good." A blanket fell on top of him.  A hand, warm, caring, touched his
forehead.  He smiled.  Mom was there...

   ****

   Menolly slowly made her way into the kitchen, Canth padding along beside
her.  Opening the cupboard, she pulled down a pack of instant cocoa.

   She hoped he didn't die now.

   It would be the inconvenience of the thing.  A dead man outside, OK, she
could just leave him there, call the police, have them deal with it.  Now,
though, she was involved.  Had "nursed" him back to health, by basically
standing back in confusion.  If he died now, how would she explain?  "Yes,
officer.  I dragged his drained body up here, causing unknowable damage,
gave him a sandwich when he woke up, then let him die on my couch.  No, I
have no medical training, and never tried to go get help.  Why do you ask?"

   She looked back into the living room.  She couldn't see him.  Maybe he
wasn't there anymore.  Did the drugs cause delusions?  Probably.  They
caused everything else.

   The irony of it sometimes got to her.  Maybe it was irony.  The exact
definition sometimes escaped her, not helped by everyone using the word
wrong to begin with.  Menolly didn't do drugs.  Didn't drink.  Dad hadn't,
and while her moms had not had the same aversion to alcohol as Dad, the
children had definitely picked it up.  Even Jaxom hadn't gotten into that,
and the gods knew he had gotten into tons of trouble.  Not that that he was
bad.  Just...  reckless.  He had been ready to marry that Jenny girl he
knocked up, before the miscarriage had them both rethink it.

   Menolly's eyes returned to the back of the couch.  Cynthia told the
story of how, as a child, she saw the Red Thing come, cause the miscarriage
of some Aunt.  Saw another kill her Grandfather.

   Saw her sanity vanish before her eyes.

   Well, drugs or not, Menolly as yet could not see the thing the man said
was there.  That was good.  Better the death you can not see, than the one
slowly walking towards you.

   She was tired.  Time to sit again.  Pouring hot water into her mug, she
turned off the stove, gave her hot chocolate a quick stir, and took her
drink back over to the table.  Now that he wasn't sitting there, she felt
more comfortable being here.

   Canth came over, head sitting on her lap.

   "I haven't fed you yet, have I?" Her free hand went to his head.  "I
haven't fed myself, either.  What do you think?  Can of stew for me, a bowl
of dry dog food for you?  That seem fair?  Or maybe that frozen pizza.  If
I'm going to be going home, the power is going to be turned off again. 
Might as well eat it."

   He wagged his tail.

   "Pizza it is, then.  He can have some if he wakes up."

   Menolly looked out the window.  Still snowing.  She could see the trees,
though.  That was good...

   A person moved across the length of the picture window, towards the
front door.

   She stood, chair scraping against the floor.  Canth looked up at her,
surprised.  The knock on the door had him bounding across the room.  He
didn't bark, which she took comfort in.  That probably was a real man, not
some otherworldly creature.  She also thought she had seen a police
uniform, or at least a winter coat which looked police-like.  Moving at a
reasonable pace, not wanting the visitor to knock again, yet not wanting to
make herself dizzy, she reached the door.  Pausing for a moment, composing
herself, she opened it.

   A woman stood on the dirt porch, snowmobile helmet held under her left
arm.  She was definitely a cop.  Even without the patches on her thick
jacket, the blue shirt just visible beneath it, her bearing was that of
authority.

   Menolly was too tired for authority.

   "You're here about the missing snowmobiler, I take it."

   The woman blinked.

   "The what?"

   Menolly sighed.  So it was going to go like that.  She opened the door
wider, motioning with her arm.

   "Come in, please.  I don't have central heating."

   The woman stepped in, warily, eyes taking in the cabin interior as
Menolly closed the door.  Canth set himself before her, looking up with
eyes that said his mistress never fed or pet him, so could the stranger
please do all that right now?  Menolly moved in front of the officer again,
hand giving Canth's head a quick rub to remind him who bought his food.

   "I'm Menolly Hunt.  This is my brother's cabin.  How can I help you?"

   "I'm Officer Zane." Menolly nodded to her.  It was obvious both women
were nearing the end of a long day.  Zane's face was pretty, if a touch
plain.  A tomboy if ever Menolly had seen one, not unusual for one who
decided to live out this fantasy into adulthood.  A little makeup, though,
and she'd turn heads.  Her black hair was cut short.  If not for the
obvious need for the woman to wear a helmet at work it could be considered
a butch look.  Still could be.  Menolly was not one to think there was
something wrong with that, but the thought still crossed her mind.

   "I found an abandoned truck down the road, half buried.  I wanted to
know if it was yours, or if you knew what happened to the owner."

   "It's probably his," Menolly told her, indicating the unmoving lump on
the couch.  She could see the Officer grimace slightly, berating herself
for not noticing the sleeping person as she entered.  "Canth here found him
next to an overturned snowmobile, and we brought him back.  Can't get any
cell phone reception, so I haven't been able to call anyone.  Not that they
could get here."

   "Is he OK?" Officer Zane moved over to the couch, kneeling down to pull
the blanket back a bit.  Her eyes widened a bit as Jeff's face came into
view.

   "He was up earlier, ate a sandwich," Menolly said.  "I'm not a doctor so
can just say he's still breathing."

   "That's good.  The paperwork for dead people is a bitch."

   "My thought exactly.  Especially if you're expecting the dead person to
fill it out."

   The woman turned her head, regarding Menolly.  She had removed one
glove, hand touching Jeff's forehead.  Her eyes dropped to Menolly's
sweater for a moment.

   "You said your name is Menolly?"

   "Yes." She waited.  Few people got the reference.  Dad had said she
could use her name to help discover who would make a good friend. 
Surprisingly, it tended to work.

   "What are you doing with F'nor's dog, then?"

   "Ha!" Menolly couldn't help it.  She felt her face explode into a grin.
"My sister named him."

   "And what's your patient's name?"

   "Jeff." Menolly walked over to a small end table, picking up and opening
a leather wallet.  "Jeff Trumain.  He didn't seem like he was in any great
hurry to tell anyone he was OK, but then he is male."

   The woman nodded.  Not in a way that showed a disinterest in men, but
more a general agreement about their failings.  Standing, she took out a
small pad of paper.

   "Jeff...  Trumain." She wrote it down.  "An ambulance isn't going to get
out here, and transporting him on my machine wouldn't be easy, or probably
safe.  I'll radio it in, maybe get some paramedics out here either tonight
or tomorrow.  He seems to be OK for now, so that puts him low on the
priority list."

   "Thanks."

   "You going to be OK?"

   There was real concern in the woman's eyes.  Menolly did not want
concern.  She nodded.

   "I'll be fine.  I plan on heading home as soon as the road is clear."

   "Once the road is clear, the need to get you out of here will be gone."
Officer Zane looked around.  "It is a nice place."

   "Can I get you anything?  I just turned the kettle off before you
arrived." Menolly felt like she should be more friendly.  Besides, while
she didn't want to wake the man, keeping the officer here until he woke
would work just as well.  The woman shook her head.

   "Can't." Zipping her coat back up, she looked down at Jeff.  "I want to
hit a couple places further down the road.  I'll stop back here on the way
back, though, if it's not too late."

   "We'll be here."

   ****

   Ve walked farther into the room.

   The strange woman was gone.  The bald one, the one the furry one seemed
to follow, was in the other room.  She did things, things Ve did not
understand.  Or care about.

   The angry biting creature was with her.

   Ve was alone.  With Him.

   His eyes were closed.  They had closed before.  Why were they closed? 
But, then, why would eyes be open?  She didn't know.

   Ve came to a stop at the end of the couch.  Her head leaned over,
looking down at her man's face.

   What was he?  She didn't know.  Neither did she know what she was, but
that didn't concern her.  What she was, she was.  No.  It was him.  He...
drew her.  Drew her to him.  They were bound, by forces unknown,
unknowable. All was unknowable, when it is not possible for you to know. 
But, she did know things, now.  Some things.  Countless things, compared to
the emptiness before.

   Ve reached down.  She wanted to touch him.  Touch.  What was touch? 
Touch...  was...

   ****

   Fire burned in Jeff's mind.

   His eyes opened into instant wakefulness.  His mind took longer.  For a
long moment, still asleep, Jeff saw the red skinned girl leaning over him.
As before, her face was upside-down.  As before, her inhuman beauty defied
comprehension.  Her eyes drew him in.  Those white, pupil-less eyes...

   He felt her touch.  Felt red hot pain on his face.  Four fingertips
burning into...

   No.

   It did not burn.

   It was hot, yes.  Like a hot pad, placed on aching muscles, but
concentrated into four points.  Hot enough to cause pain.

   Yet it didn't.

   Fingers slid down his cheek.  Her palm, soft, scorching, touched his
stubbled cheek.  The head above him...  cocked to one side.  Her eyes... 
they were different.  Jeff could see them change.  He wet his lips.

   "Who are you?" he whispered.  Her other hand lowered.  Jeff found his
head cupped in the creatures hellish grip.  Fire flowed through him, moving
down his body, through his veins.  He tried to move.  Tried to raise his
arms, tried to...

   To what?

   "Jesus mother of Buddha!"

   The woman Menolly's curse cut through the haze.  Jeff's mind and body
awoke, both forcing him up into a sitting position before the last syllable
had been uttered.  The red girl jumped back, eyes wide in terror, as the
dog leapt forward, barking.  Canth placed himself between the couch and the
creature, tail up, fur bristling.

   Jeff couldn't think.  Couldn't process.  The thing...  the girl... 
it... she...

   "Are you OK, Jeff?  Did it hurt you?"

   Menolly's voice broke through some of the block.  He shook his head to
clear it.

   "Um, yeah.  Yeah.  I'm OK.  I'm fine." He blinked, turning to the bald
woman as she moved towards him, a pizza cutter in her hand.  "Wait, can you
see her?"

   "Yes," she said.  Her face was half terror, half determination.  "I see
the fucker.  Jesus Christ."

   "What is she?"

   "Death."

   He stood, slowly, blinking again.

   "Wait, what?"

   "Yes, I know, Death is supposed to be some cute British goth girl, but,
no.  Death is an army of red things which come and rip the life out of
you."

   "Goth girl..?"

   "Oh, for Christ's sake.  You've just ruined any chance of sharing my
bed, you know that?  I like them at least semi-smart."

   He looked at her for a long moment.  Her thin frame.  Those eyes full of
fire.  The pizza cutter held like a switchblade.

   He'd rather fuck the red ghost.

   ****

   to be continued...

   ****

   Edited by Packrat

   ****

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