Intro to death barrier.
She lay down on the bed, cushioned with brittle roses, caressing each thorn in the crest of her skin, and she lay there believing the open sky was the canvas of the blank ceiling. A hint of a smile just bracing the corners of her lips. They told her she was a handsome girl, though she had never seen a mirror she felt it to be true, between the frozen scarlet of the roses ,a rotten bramble of kines hid the warm blood dripping from her wounds. Though her waxy figure tips held more life than her lonesome eyes, her curiosity in their meadow paint was unnatural, head fixed adjacent to them, hooked in an eternal glare; skin so marbled it was like dolls china, glaced a chalky pale, and a silent voice that no one heard coiled the smooth of her neck and lost its resonance through her throat.
The swirling vines enraptured in this deathly presents broke from their grip as she rose from the corroding sculptured rock beneath her. Her eyes watery and unblinking as though she had roused from the deepest slumber, each muscle in turn converged around her newly constructed form creaked from lack of use. And the collapsed veins limp of life,churned the ancient blood through these hollow vessels and those pale, malnourished fingers stretched out for the first ,after longing for encounter, felt the cold pang of the dreary, ivory malted wall. Quaking she reached to grip the haired leaves,dragging the body as though it were still a corpse up the frame, with heaving breath, detached the covering of the tomb, emerging from the shadow into the lucid light of a distant moon, sinking into her skin as though they were of the same manifestation.
A girl alone in the cemetery,the only living soul, escaping from a dark ,empty grave, breathed in the cool bitterness of the night and shed a solitary tear, but her soul which was indeed as vacant as when she had been dead , now was slowly filled with overbearing desire; deadly and seductive is the path of the living it thought, a girl reduced to her primal instinct, enraptured in the taste of life itself ;absorbing the moisture of the grass and the smell of fresh dirt. It pressed the mud against its face like an animal in the wide and tore across the weathered stones in extasy of its new found life. Each agonising tremble of muscle a blessing and every tearing breath against the lungs, a miracle. When the beast became inanimate. The eyes widened like a rabbit in headlights and the figure distorted in its motionless form jerked to attention.
"come to me",a cry deep within the misted graves, pulling its every fibre to hear each word and the mind so freed became narrow in thinking and was condemned to a silent pace toward a willow tree draped over a lonely grave off to the east of the gates , the creature came to that place and bowed before the master of the house ,of the cemetery.
"My name is nero, i am necromancer.." despite herself and the words, blatant before her and with all the world to stay awake for , she fell into a trance like slumber.And hit the ground, grinding the weeds with her dead weight.