Draven looked over at the man that he attacked before. "No reason to get your panties in a knot, I just had a bad judgement call. I guess you just didn't smell like a demon at first, probably just good at hiding it," he shrugged and walked a little closer to him He began to sniff the air around the man. "Yeah there it is I can smell it now, guess I was just hungry. Hey no hard feelings all right," he stuck out his hand, waiting for the man to accept his apology.

Jake hesitated and looked at the vampires hand deciding if he can trust him or not, when he decided that he could trust him, he shook the vampires hand and said "i suppose people do weird things when their hungry. next time take your time because I'm only a new demon but others wont be as weak as me." then he stopped shaking his hand and turned and walked off into the mist

Draven shook Jake's hand and nodded. He watched him walk off. "Weird?," he commented to himself. He was a new demon, huh? That's why I couldn't smell him. I've really got to eat something., he shook his head and chuckled. He stopped sniffing the air around him. He looked over at the confused zombie that the witch left behind. "So buddy what's your story?," he paused wondering if he could even speak.

What was there to say? So much had happened to him in just this one night, but Dallas had no way of communicating that. Demons, vampires, witches, floating heads... a failed resurrection and then a failed beheading. He pursed his lips, then looked to the dark haired vampire and lifted his shoulders in a shrug, letting a soft groan pass from his mouth. It was sincere; he really didn't know what to make of his current situation.

Wearily, he lowered himself to the ground. He wondered where Draven was going to find a bite to eat. Since he now knew that decaying flesh was what sustained him, it made sense that Isabelle left him in a graveyard. But dead bodies did not have flowing blood, so the vampire would have to look elsewhere for his meal. Same with that floating head creature. At least that guaranteed him safety from their bloodlust; his vitals were all stagnant, coagulating. He grinned at the thought, crooked yellowed teeth gleaming in the moonlight.

Anisa watched as the vampire sprinted across the graveyard towards the man on the other side. He wasn't what I expected, I thought. She watched as they tumbled and were interrupted by a woman on a broom - she had to be a witch. She watched the ensuing argument and then watched as all but the quiet man left.

Anisa couldn't see the quiet man well, but he seemed the least threatening of the group. Curiously, she headed towards him.

When she got close enough to really see him, she gasped. It wasn't every day you saw a zombie.

He seems calm, so he probably already ate. Still, better to be safe...

"Hello? My name is Anisa. I'm not going to hurt you. Can I come closer without you attacking me?"

She figured it was best to be blunt.

Dallas almost didn't notice the raven-haired woman approaching until she was nearly upon him. He stumbled up on his feet as quickly as he could, brushing some of the caked on dirt from his pants. He was surprised she even wanted to be near him; he must look terrible, and smell even worse. Still, she was polite enough to talk to him... he liked that.

Trying to smile without showing too much teeth, Dallas nodded in response to her question. Was she a night creature, as well? She looked very pretty, but also very ordinary. Not like the others he had encountered thus far.

Anisa stepped closer to the decaying man. She wasn't really afraid of zombies, although she didn't have much experience with them. Most weren't dangerous unless they were hungry and it was easy to tell if they were.

She saw the gash in his throat and sighed.

"I wonder what happened to you. I thought all zombies could talk, but I'm no expert."

She kept talking, mostly because she didn't want to spook him.

"Zombies don't usually wander graveyards alone. You have to be raised don't you? And any respectable necromancer would put you back in the ground. Still, you don't seem evil, so there must be something different about you. I'm assuming you've already eaten."

She pondered what to do. For a zombie, he seemed very polite, but zombies aren't the greatest at self defense. They are supposed to be dead after all, with nothing to defend themselves against.

"I guess the witch is the one who raised you. Is she coming back for you?"

Dallas lightly touched the hole in his throat. He hadn't attempted to speak since the short witch had asked his name. He did want to try again, but the chances of any sound other than a hollow wheeze coming out seemed incredibly slim. He wondered if the witch came back, would she bring him some kind of tonic or potion that would help him out with that?

He turned his attention back to the dark haired girl in front of him, and again raised his thin shoulders in a shrug. It was all too much for his rotten brain to process. It was Isabelle's responsibility to put him back in his grave, like the woman had said, but she'd lost her nerve at the last minute. Had she abandoned him here in the graveyard? Or was she planning on returning for him tomorrow? Who could say? So he left his answer at that; a shrug.

The following morning, or what one would call morning in the world of darkness, Isabelle returned to the graveyard. A maroonish light had shown through the clouds. That was the morning light of the dark world. A world where no sunlight exists. Only dead skies which has it's own sense of "light".

Isabelle was on her trusted broom hovering over the trees. As she was homing into the place which she left poor Dallas, she felt the right side of her face which had a scorch mark on it. Her eye, changed forever, will be a reminder of her disobedience to her mentor. The mark will eventually heal, Isabelle was immortal after all, but she will always see things in a different way. Her right eye, no longer bright green, had a lifeless shade of blue to it almost as if she were blind.

The zombie was sitting on the ground and seemed in a daze. "I guess he wouldn't be sleeping." Isabelle murmured to herself as she homed in on Dallas's location. As she made it to the ground, Isabelle walked up to the zombie and shook his shoulders in order to get his attention. "Hey there, are you alright?"

The world was bathed in a dark purple haze. A light coating of dew clung to the scattered patches of grass growing around the graves. Dallas stared into the cloudy sky, hoping for a friendly visitor; whether it was the sun or the small witch, either would be a comfort to him. Lost in his thoughts, time passed until he felt someone shaking him.

Snapped out of his daze, he turned and rose up on one bony knee. It was the witch from the previous night! He felt a toothy grin split across his face, and he barely managed to restrain himself from hugging her. His smile faded quickly however, as he noticed a fresh wound on her face. He tilted his head slightly, his face mottled with concern. Reaching out with a thin finger, he pointed at her eye, questioning.

At first, Isabelle didn't know what the zombie was getting at. Why is he pointing at me, she thought to herself until she realized what the zombie was referring to. Isabelle lifted her hand to feel the mark around her eye. "Oh this? Let's just say that Madame wasn't pleased that I couldn't carry out an order. Said you were a potential danger, but I see otherwise." Isabelle said calmly. She then gained a fierce gleam in her eyes. "I'm through with that place, though. I'm set out to live my own life my way." The tips of her hair rose up as if like little horns.

Taking her mind off of the stress of running away, she focused some of her attention at the speechless zombie. "I see you're still having a hard time communicating. I figured if I gave you some time, you would eventually get it." Isabelle said as the wind had blown her sandy blond hair left and right. She thought to herself for a moment. "Hmm, I think I have a solution. I have a spell that gives a voice to animals, maybe it will work on you too." Kneeling down, Isabelle placed her hands in the air and began to chant, "Ohjiarhet omnifoise, magic please, give it voice!" A bright purple light began to form around Dallas. At least this was a sign that the spell was recognizing the zombie. As Isabelle's hymning began to dye down, so did the light and the girl's hands. Isabelle looked up at Dallas, "Well...let's see if it worked. Say something."

Dallas chewed his already torn lower lip nervously; his throat felt warm, soothed in a way, like he'd just had a hot drink. He pursed his lips, then opened his mouth and tried to speak. At first, he just groaned again. His brows knitted together in concentration, and he made a second attempt.

"Uhhh..." he moaned, then after a small coughing fit, he managed, "hello?" Grinning with surprise, he looked up at the witch gratefully. "T-thank you, I uhh... I needed that." He smiled crookedly, rising to his full height. "My... name is Dallas, I think. I never caught yours?"

Standing up quickly out of surprise, Isabelle got a slight head rush. After gaining control of her head, she shouted, "Yeah! I'm not such a failure after all! Take that Madame bitch!" as she made an 'up-yours' stance in Iden's direction. She turned back around at the bewildered zombie. "Oh uh...my name is Isabelle, but I prefer to be called Isa. It's shorter and easier, or at least I think so." Isabelle crouched back down and wrapped her arms around her bent knees. "So, Dallas is it? I've been there myself when I traveled to the other world, but I've never heard of anyone being named that." Isabelle gave a shrug. "Oh well, I'm not gonna judge. Not too many girls are named Isabelle these days. Say, I bet you must be hungry."

"Isa," he said softly, "Thank you for... uhh, coming back." The zombie smiled, enjoying his new ability. He didn't sound as awful as he was expecting, given the condition of his vocal chords; there was a slight twang to his accent, but overall it was a gentle rumble of a voice. The witch was speaking of his name as though it were also a place; perhaps he was remembering it incorrectly. It didn't really matter now; Dallas was what he preferred to be called.

He fiddled with the worn hem of his shirt; in the "morning" light, he could now clearly see the state his clothing was in. The collar of his shirt was all torn and streched, hanging off his pointed shoulders. There were maggot holes and tears all throughout it, as well as various dirt and blood stains. His pants were also decidedly tattered and filthy, though their dark color hid it better. And his shoes; well, they could hardly be called that, with the way they barely managed to cling to his feet. He felt almost embarrassed wearing them, although anything neater would only bring more attention to the various gashes and scrapes he had on his body.

He looked back in Isabelle's direction, and nodded. "Y-yes, I am feeling hungry," he agreed, grinning sheepishly. Hopefully he would be able to get his bearings soon, so the short witch wouldn't have to keep caring for him like a pet hamster.

The chill morning air was whipping across Lillith's organs. She had been detached from her body for too long, this was going to be a hell of a day. She would have to be exceedingly careful the next day when she went out to hunt, chase easy prey. Maybe sheep... Lillith arrived at the window she used to enter and exit her home in decapitated form only to find it closed. There was no way she could open it without her hands and she didn't want to injure herself further by ramming into it. Normally, she'd just mentally connect with her body and command it to open the window for her, but she was barely strong enough to keep afloat. Her only choice was to hunt the early birds. If the early bird catches the worm, she thought cynically. What does that make me? Lillith carefully drifted down to a flock of birds fighting over a morsel of corn or somesuch and, as quietly as she could manage, extended her tongue and plunged it into a crow's neck. The bird squirmed, causing the other birds around it to fly a few feet away, but the other birds remained undisturbed, although Lillith could swear they were giving her strange looks. Lillith repeated this process until her stomach stopped growling. She wasn't full by any stretch, but it would have to do until she could find substantial prey. Lillith pulled herself through the air back to the window got as close to the ledge as she could, in case she fell. Then she called out to her body. Come along, you ravishing thing. I need you to open the window, doll. That's it dearie, that's it. she found it was better to encourage her body than to rush it along. She felt less embarrassed when she reconnected. After many minutes' time, the body opened the window and reattached the head. "Aah, much better," she muttered. There was no time to sleep, Lillith realized, she had to follow those two that escaped. She couldn't resist the challenge, but even more... she felt as though the girl knew too much. Grabbing her blood red trench-coat off of a nail on the wall, Lillith briskly stalked out the door and began her walk back to the graveyard. It felt much more natural than flying.

Jake was walking towards the graveyard but stopped and remembered that he was almost vampires lunch, after a while he realized he was ready to fight if he had to and he walked into the graveyard he mumbled to himself "i hope the things from yesterday are not still here" then he walked off of the path and walked through the grass with his cloak drifting behind him.

Draven sat in his favorite tree in the graveyard, satisfied as the 'morning' set in. He leaned against the thick trunk of the old tree, straddling a branch. He stretched and yawned, loving the feeling of the chilly morning air on his bare chest. He licked his lips, remembering the sweet little blonde human that he made his snack the other night. He stretched again, quietly watching the exchanged between the little witch and the zombie, he chuckled softly. He loved to observed, after living so many years, it's the only thing left that you had to do. He turned his attention to the road and saw his favorite pal Jake walking back towards the graveyard. I guess this morning is not going to be boring after all. He sprung out of the tree and landed graceful on the road in front of Jake. "Good morning, friend," he chuckled, flashing his fangs.

Jake stopped for a moment trying to get a grip after he saw Draven pop out of no where then he remembered who it was and said "oh, its.... i didn't get your name, and try not to attack me this time." then he chuckled and put his hand out to shake the vampires hand

"I'm Draven," he smiled grasping the Jake's hand. "I wasn't planning to attack you. I'm not hungry anymore," he chuckled, clasping the other man on the shoulder. "So tell me, how does one become a new demon?" He was really intrigued. He didn't know how the whole demon thing worked, it was really complicated because there was just so many kinds of demon classes, levels, ranks, species. It just made Draven's head hurt.

As soon as Draven landed on the ground to shake the demon's hand, Isabelle quickly turned her head in the direction she had heard it from. She was, initially, too busy thinking up ways to feed Dallas, but it quickly got interrupted at the noise which she heard. "Oh no...what if it's that flying head again.." Isabelle sighed to herself. She quietly called out, "Broom, I need you." but nothing happened. Frustrated at her broom's non-compliance, Isabelle's hair tips curled upwards and she shouted, "BROOM GET OVER HERE!" Within seconds the broom appeared from nothing. Isabelle wanted to stay quiet, but she was feeling brave. Isabelle pointed in the direction which she heard the noise and ordered, "Broom, that way!" and, just like that, the little witch was off. "I'll be baaack, Dallas!" Isabelle's voice said as it faded off into the distance. It was not the floating head that Isabelle heard, but that vampire from the previous night. And what's more, that demon too.

Draven turned away from Jake when he saw the little witch from the other night come by on her broom. "What's the rush?," he yelled at her, as she was coming toward him and the demon at top speed. "You know you left your zombie again, pitiful fellow he is," he attempted to offer his help, wondering if she was going to land.

Isabelle halted abruptly at Draven's words as if a car all of a sudden had its breaks slammed. She blinked a couple times and looked back in Dallas's direction. Isabelle, then, turned her head back to Draven. "You say it as if he's my property, vampire. I'm sure he'll be fine for a few minutes." the young witch said. Isabelle dropped, on her broom, to the point of barely a couple feet above the ground.

She examined Draven once again, but this time she couldn't help it. Her new eye was homing in on him. Then she saw it. Isabelle saw a vision of the vampire with a young, blond, girl. She didn't understand why, but then it flashed to Draven with his fangs lunged into the girl's neck. From anyone else's standpoint, Isabelle seemed appalled at nothing, but Isabelle had been, briefly, transported to another reality. Just when the vision had passed, Isabelle was calm but panting a little. When she lifted her head to Draven, she merely asked, "You didn't leave the poor girl to die, did you?"

Draven smiled, intrigued at Isabelle's ability to see what he had done. "No I did not leave her to die. She will awaken sore and weak, but with a little rest and mom's chicken noodle soup she will be just fine," he joked. "And just so your mind will be at ease, she was willing, more than willing," he chuckled, staring off as if he was remembering the nights events. "I meant no disrespect whe it comes to the zombie, I was just making an observation that he hung around with you a lot."

Isabelle had used up enough time with the vampire. She didn't want to leave Dallas unattended after all. "Well, I'm heading back over to where I was. I really just came here because I thought you might have been that floating head." Isabelle gave a reluctant salute to the vampire and ordered, "C'mon broom, let's head back." The broom levitated further up into the air and, within seconds, Isabelle went back where she came.

Jake looked at the witch then when she left Jake looked back at Draven a said"that question you asked me, the answer is.... i don't really know to be honest" he look down at the floor in shame "i have learned all that yet."