“It was a…shockwave.” You don’t take more than a second to come to your decision. To tell him the truth. For better or worse, Dorian Hook is your partner now; tied deeper than any bonds of marriage, because neither of you are alive any longer, in the strictest sense.
Dorian kneels in front of you, hands resting on your shoulder, looking deep into your eyes. Like he can see through to your very soul.
Maybe he can. In all the years you’ve existed for, you’ve never found a partner to share eternity with until now. Mary was a companion, but a spirit under your protection until you could find the right people to save her. To change history. Something that’s been forbidden to you and your kind for a very long time.
Perhaps this is your punishment.
“It hurt you.” Dorian slides his hands down your shoulders, over your chest and stomach.
“I’m not hurt anymore.” You smile at him, answering honestly. Any lingering soreness is swept away in his touch. You want to snuggle in closer. To curl up in his arms and let yourself forget your responsibility. At least for a while.
“What was the shockwave caused by?”
The question breaks into your thoughts. You pause, head cocked to one side. Trying to figure out how to put into words something that’s unexplainable. “It was another guardian spirit.”
His hands tighten their grip. Enough for you to feel it, even though his touch doesn’t cause you any pain. “You were attacked?”
“No. It’s….” You hesitate. There are no words. Not really. You can describe, but to say exactly what’s happened? “You’ve seen wounds that have become infected.” He nods; not that you need his affirmation. You continue on. “Sometimes, it can happen to guardian spirits. Sometimes, they become…corrupted. Something other. No longer a guardian for those who need to pass on, but something twisted that holds the souls of the dead. Tortures and torments them into something twisted, instead of allowing them to move on through their journey.”
“Is that where the stories of ghosts come from?”
“And zombies,” you answer. “It hasn’t happened often. Enough for legends to be passed down through different cultures. Some ghosts linger because they’re not ready to move on. Or they have unfinished business. But the ones in this instance…they will turn hostile. Turn on the living. All of them, no matter how ‘good’ they were in life. This disease spreads to all of them.”
Dorian’s hands move to your legs, resting gently on them. He doesn’t break eye contact with you. “What do we do?”
You don’t question his use of the word ‘we’. You answer honestly and without hesitation. “We need to go to the source of the corruption.”