Once, when Sabina had been younger, she'd been traveling alone in a strange city. As evening settled, she walked down a narrow road filled with street people and vagrants. By the time she noticed everyone watching her, she'd gone too far to turn tail and find another route to her hotel. A young guy approached. He was blond wearing a leather jacket.

Through clenched teeth, he said, "Give me some money."

Sabina didn't want to stop. Didn't want to get the wallet out of her pocket and flash cash around. So, she said, "Sorry." And tried to keep walking with even strides that wouldn't betray her fear.

The thug stepped in front of her and they faced off nose to nose. "I said: give me some money."

Her heart thudded so hard it made her fingers numb, and the world beyond the face in front of her turned to a hazy gray.

Just then, a police car pulled along side them, and the thug melted back into the shadows.

My thrill at having an actual memory is dampened by the fact I'm in a very similar situation and I'm pretty sure there isn't going to be any police car coming to my rescue this time.

I try to keep all three assailants in view but it isn't easy with one behind me and two in front. To make matters worse, the other creatures are creeping nearer and everywhere shining red eyes peer out of the fog.

"I don't want any trouble," I say putting my hands out in the universal sign for calm down and stay where you are. "I'm just passing through."

"There is no through," the male says and takes a step closer. I really don't want that little, fireplug prick of his getting any closer to me, so I skitter a little closer to the women.

One of them laughs, and it puts me in mind of a hyena. She has a round face and matted green hair similar to the Spanish moss growing everywhere. "Sorry, to disappoint, but he's right. The gates are locked. What's a matter? Don't you like us?"

I simply have to ask, "What the hell are you?"

The other female, taller with a more lithe body and dark blue hair says, "We're ghouls." I must look confused because she adds, "You know, death harvesters. Tomb feasters. Corpse eaters. Ghouls."

O-kay. I was imagining some sort of violence but not being someone's meal. "You. Eat. Dead bodies?"

Blue-hair says, "Don't worry we take a pass on the undead. We're not a fan of our food squirming around."

"Oh, good I was worried you were going to eat me."

Round-face says, "Oh, honey, we might. If you ask nicely."

A clawed hand grabs my shoulder, and the male says, "Back off. I saw her first."

I'm small and frail under his grip, and I want nothing more than to get away and for him to stop touching me. I'm not even thinking when I whirl around and level a punch at his muzzle. The aim is off and there's little strength behind it, but the mass of rings against his cheek is enough to stagger him and put a little distance between us. Perhaps self-defense was the reason this girl wore so much jewelry on her fingers. Anyways, I'm no longer complaining about the weight of metal on my hands.

Round-face says, "Looks like she's not interested, Rip. Why don't you leave her to us."

He turns on her, ignoring me. "You've forgotten your place. Maybe you need another lesson."

There's a definite size difference between the sexes of these ghouls. The women are roughly my height, but Rip towers over us all and he's bulked up with thick, sinuous muscle. So, when he rushes Round-face and gets her on the ground, I don't expect much of a contest. However, she doesn't go down easily. Her teeth seek out his throat, and her claws move in a flurry raking his arms and chest.

Their skin is thicker than any humans because those fierce black talons should be shredding him but they're only leaving red welts. He gets his hands around her neck to choke her, but Blue-hair yanks him back. His back slaps against the crushed shells, and they they jump on top of him. Kicks and punches are thrown so fast I can't make out who has the upper hand. 

Suddenly, the women leap up and run toward me. Rip groans and seems to be trying to find the ground so he can lift himself up, but he's too dazed. 

They each grab one of my wrists. "Run," Round-face screams, and the three of us flee, leaving the path and dodging through a gap between two tombs. I don't know if I can trust them, but Rip has gained his feet and is in pursuit, so my options are limited. At least, the other ghouls are content to let this be a dispute between the four of us and don't get involved. I don't know what I'd do if I had  all of them fighting to get a hold of me.

The women know this place intimately, and we rush down paths and through narrow alleys between the stone buildings before I even see them. We're hauling-ass fast enough I should be gasping for air with a stitch in my side. So, one advantage of being reanimated is I don't tire. Or else, Sabina was a track star before she died. Although, her shoes were definitely not made for running. My feet hurt like hell. The stiff leather is chewing them up, and I'd probably collapse, but my guides keep me upright.

I'm completely disorientated and have no idea where we've gone, when Blue-hair yells, "There." They head for a tomb with two urns out front and steps leading up to the door.

They shove me inside, and we wait in silence. Muffled barks and howls come first from one direction, then another, but eventually stop. Just when I'm sure we lost Rip, he says from right outside the tomb, "Come out, come out, wherever you are." We all freeze. The Ghouls are holding there breath. The next thing we hear from Rip is a wail of "Bitches" from off in the distance.

Reasonably sure the coast is clear, they help me up from my cowardly crouch. Blue-hair says, "This is a safe place. We can wait here until things cool down."

Hanging out in a mausoleum doesn't appeal to me, but they tell me Rip won't give up easy and we're sure to run into him if we go out. It's hard to let my guard down, but they're friendly enough and even try to be hospitable showing me round the place even though it's just a single room with a large stone coffin in the center and nooks carved in the walls with decaying wooden caskets tucked inside them. The one I'd been thinking of as Blue-hair is named Eternal and round-face is Sorrow. These names sound pretty strange, but it turns out ghouls use inscriptions from graves to name their young. I tell them I'm Sabina because I have I still don't remember what I was called. So, in a way I'm doing the same as them.

Eternal says, "Are you hungry?"

I am. There's an emptiness in my stomach, a sense of hollowness. Even undead, this body has needs, and once the prospect of food has been mentioned, I'm very much aware nourishment is one of them.

But when Sorrow reaches into one of the nooks and pulls out a rotting arm, rancid with green mold, my appetite disappears and I decline. I also decline there invitation to join them in their after dinner festivities. So, when they climb up on the  sarcophagus in the middle of the room and begin making-out, I curl up in a corner with some tattered rags and divert my eyes. I busy myself by pulling the bits of dried leaves caught in the translucent black material of my tights, trying to pretend what is happening isn't happening.

I only look up when the sounds they make grow into a loud and obscene slurping. They've moved into the sixty-nine position and are nuzzling each others groins with vigor, there snouts burrowing into their gaping pussies. Long, pink tongues lick along the length of the slits and probe inside. Eternal is on the bottom reaching up to knead Sorrow's large, plump breasts with her monstrous hands. Sorrow grips onto her partner's butt cheeks with the determination of someone hanging off the edge of a cliff. But eventually, she slips her left hand into the crevice and drives a long, sharp claw into Eternal's tight backdoor. 

Another emptiness awakens in me. This one entirely new and deeply disturbing. My vagina twitches and cries out for attention.

It takes all my willpower to stop staring and to keep from reaching between my legs. As a distraction, I try to immerse myself in the memory I had earlier. Try and route out every detail even though many of the basic ones don't come to me. Like what city it was or what was I there. But the fear is clear. So is the stench of urban filth: exhaust fumes, urine, garbage baking in the heat. The stubble on the guys chin and the bead of spittle in the corner of his tight lips.

But something about the memory bothers me. In it, I'm a woman. There's the weight and sway of my breasts as I walk. The feel of a dozen rings when I clench my fists. The tilt of my feet in heels.

Is this my memory or Sabina's?

Eternal and Sorrow go at it for hours, and it gets harder to ignore the live sex show going on in front of me. By the time they're spent and finally go into cuddling mode, I'm grinding my thighs together to appease the deep wet itch inside of me. My fingers are yearning to explore, but I'm not ready yet to rub a dead girl's pussy even if it's mine.

What is happening to me? I've been in this body for only a few hours and I'm aching with lust for two nightmare creatures. What will happen if I stay here?

But how the hell am I going to escape this place and Rip?

It takes a long time to fall asleep.

DemonRose

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