Charity turned towards the voice that seemed to come among the thick curtains. She grabbed the fabric swiftly and pulled the curtains apart, ready to punch whatever was there. Besides the pale light of outdoors, Charity saw nothing.
“W-who’s speaking??”
“Can’t you bloody see me?” the voice seemed to be right in front of her so Charity screamed a little and tried to slap the voice. Her hand felt no resistance but her skin received a thin coat of something wet on it.
“Ew.” Charity tried to shake the glue-like stuff off her hand. “Who are you?? Why can’t I see you?”
“That’s not very nice, innit?” the voice said as a faint face started to materialize in front of Charity. The face was plump and looked like the dust particles in the air were forming it. “I’m Lisa, and ye are very rude.”
“I-You... Prudence's friend?” Charity tried to wipe her hand discreetly to the sheets but Lisa’s expression told her it was everything but.
“Aye. I thought ye could see me.”
“Well, I could not,” after a little thought she added. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it, lass. Happens to the best of us. You fledglings mostly tho,” Lisa said and disappeared for a moment.
“What is ‘Fledgeling’?”
“Ye. Ye are a fledgling. A new dead.”
“What are you then?”
“I am a senior, of sorts. Ready to go to the other side,” Lisa’s voice hovered around the window. “Took me a long time enough, so I thought I’d come and say hello before I go and give you a piece of advice.”
“Advice?”
“Be good. Like real good and selfless and you will be free, eventually. More good ye do here, more flesh you get to keep ‘till you can let it go and head away from this shit ‘ole of a place,” her face moved towards the doorway.
“But-I am good.”
Lisa scoffed. “If ye were good, you wouldn’t be here.”
“But-”
“At least ye came at Christmas time, lassie. You can do plenty of good deeds to prove ye self in a short time. People are more likely to need help... we might not have beating hearts, or feel cold, but the chill of Winter can freeze much more than ye bones... mark me words. And good luck!” Lisa seemed to stop her pacing for a moment and her voice turned oddly solemn. “I think... I can smell me mom’s pastries... ain’t that a funny-” then a loud pop echoed in the air like someone would have pulled a cork out of a bottle.
“Lisa?”
Nobody answered.
“Hey?”
She had left.
Something struck Charity and she placed her hand on her chest again, pressing hard over where her heart was. She listened carefully, held her breath for a long time before she had her proof. Her heart had stopped, she did not need to breathe, and it was Christmas. Despite all the turmoil she felt in her mind, somehow knowing that it was Christmas calmed her down.
TWO FLOORS DOWN THERE was a less existential crisis and more just crisis. The usual residents were all preparing for the holidays in their own ways while trying to hold back Em, the embodiment of the 80s skater gal with her sweatbands and bracelets, frizzy hair on small tight curls and hoop earrings, from going to see the newcomer again. She had been very excited to see someone who was not from the “past” and really wanted to know if they ever did make more Indiana Jones movies.
Nefera, who was uninterested in the shenanigans others called “Christmas”, had wrapped two of her mummy wraps around Em and sat down calmly on the floor writing something on a thick scroll. She was unbothered by the constant tugging of the fabric or Em’s pleading that she absolutely had to speak with the fledgling. It was a matter of death and Harrison Ford’s smoldering eyes, nothing less. Nefera squinted at the hieroglyphs and wondered whether she had just written the word V or W (the small chick with claws or no claws).
Atenea, who understood as little of who this Ford was as everyone in the room, had placed her half skeleton-half person body to block her way. She tried to rationalize with her and ask her to calm down. All she did was to keep her in place and make her explain everything she knew of the fabled hero who wielded a whip and had a magnificent chest hair. The vivid descriptions of Em’s obsession made Atenea blink her only remaining eye slowly. She was only half of a woman but she still remembered what it felt like seeing a man oiled and ready for the Olympics. Had she had some blood still streaming to her half of a cheek, she would have blushed.
Taka sat on the big wooden table smack in the middle of the room by the lit fireplace and laughed at the three women. She adjusted her bone mask-hat and enjoyed the show. For her, this time of the year was rather enjoyable. People, these in particular, all had very different views of the long dark days that were the “Winter” in the underworld. As the bone snow fell, they all went a bit nuts. Prudence began cooking food no-one really could eat and went to her place of worship to talk to some withering skeletons; Em decorated everything from doors to stuffed mice; Atenea began singing strange chants while herding many children that had died in her time... and Taka enjoyed the show.
That was also the scene that made Charity wish she had not walked so fast to the downstairs or that she would have just walked past the room and to the front door. She tried just that but Em was quick to notice her and screeched “FORD!” before toppling over Atenea and making Nefera spew very effective curses at her. Half of them had no effect whatsoever, as Em was already dead and you cannot curse someone to be any deader than they already were, but she grew a third eye for solid two minutes and lost a chunk of her hair to an unholy fire.
Taka looked at Charity’s eyes that made her look like prey and felt sorry for her. With a grand leap she, with her short posture and blue frozen skin, placed herself between Em and Charity and silenced the blubbering corpse.
“Thank you, Taka,” said Prudence behind Charity. “Em, please sit down, you don’t want to look foolish in front of our guest.” She was carrying a steaming pie that with closer inspection was charred and slightly smoking but no one mentioned it. Charity wanted to though, but she kept her mouth shut when Atenea gave her an eye that said ‘mention it and I will stab you’.
“Whatever...” muttered Em as she pushed herself back on her pink sneakers and help Atenea rise.
All the women went to sit on the chairs around the table. Em next to Nefera who reluctantly left her ruined scroll on the floor, Atenea next to Taka who liked to sit in a not very ladylike manner, and Prudence at the end of the table.
“Please, Charity, sit,” offered Prudence. She pointed at the seat at the other end of the table usually meant for the man of the house, or like today, a guest. Charity did not fight it, she sat on the worn ornamented chair and crossed her ankles the way she had been taught. Taka snorted at her awkward position and leaned her chin more on the table, determined to show off her hunched back and toned muscles to her. She knew who was the real boss in the room.
“Totally awesome looking pie you got there, Pru,” Em smiled and patted her hair to hide the new bald spot. “What’s the occasion?”
“Lisa has left us.”
Everyone fell silent.
“You know this is a happy moment,” Prudence continued. “She has found peace and wished that we will remember her, and all her teachings...” her voice sounded a little sad despite the gentle-spirited words. “After all, she saved us all and taught us so much. Would you like to repeat the lessons to our fledgling, Charity, as we eat the pie?”
No-one offered but Atenea took sharing the rock hard pie on small plates as her job. The clinking of the pie and the plates shattered the silence.
“I will start then,” Prudence insisted as she smashed her pie piece with a tiny fork. “Always be kind.”
“Always be selfless,” Em said with more wet voice than before.
“Always strive to be better than yesterday,” Atenea whispered.
“Always ‘look out’ for others,” Nefera said and shoved a pie piece under the brown
ed wraps around her face. The crunching noises could have been her ancient teeth breaking or the pie but she did not seem to care.
“Ugh,” nodded Taka with pie crumbs on her naked chest.
“I assume that means ‘and don’t be afraid to die again’,” Prudence translated while everyone else looked a lot like she must have made it up. No one really knew what Taka said, ever.
Charity looked at the crazy bunch and the pie with silent horror. In front of her was a mold-covered mummy eating a pie. She was terrified of the zombie that seemed to be in one piece just because she wore too many sweatbands around her rotting flesh. The naked, hairy woman kept leering at her as well and a half skeleton could have been doing the same with that empty eye socket. Prudence was the only one who looked near normal so she focused her eyes on her but then she said something that made her wish she hadn’t engaged in eye contact.
“Won’t you try your pie, Charity?”
So innocent question, so kind, and yet... Charity looked at the pie that was closer to a piece of coal that was oozing some strange wet gray matter from its gut. “I’m not hungry.”
“None of us is,” said Atena. “This is more of a ritual than anything. You won’t taste a thing, but it is VERY polite.” She gave Charity a dirty look with the socket and the eye.
“In that case... I’ll try it, of course.” All the eyes latched onto her as she took a deep breath, broke a piece of the assumed crust and the wet matter within and slowly put it between her lips.
The sensation was strange.
The mass tasted like nothing but felt like she had just bit into a crumbling sand castle and mud. Or an actual pie and the filling. Despite the horrible look, it also smelled like nothing and eating it was easy. Couple chews, a swallow, and in a minute the whole thing disappeared from her plate.
Everyone nodded to her in unison. Had Charity’s skin been alive, the view would have given her the goosebumps.
“Lisa would be proud,” said Em with a lopsided smile. It was like a melting candle grinning. Lots of teeth were showing and very little skin was intact.
“I actually met her,” Charity replied carefully.
“You did?” Prudence asked, eyes glowing. “What did she say?”
“She said that I need to do good things to get to keep my flesh and... to leave this place eventually. And that Christmas is a great time to do that.”
“She could not be more right,” Prudence said and clapped her hands together. “Christmas is a wonderful time to be more kind, selfless, better, and to look after each other.”
“So now really is Christmas?”
“Well, yes, can’t you see it?”
Charity tried very hard to see it. She looked around the room and connected a few dots. There was a fireplace, it was lit, even though the color of the fire seemed to sail between black, red, and occasional green, and there was an attempt of a Christmas tree in the corner with packages wrapped in newspapers around it. The tree was dead and the decorations on it looked like dead animals. She also saw some shiny forks and knives bent to shapes and a star that looked depressed with all the missing glitter. Her eyes met few red pieces of fabric in the room, like a tablecloth with a multitude of holes in it, the curtains that were wide open, and a single ribbon over the door she had came in from.
“It is... a work in progress,” Prudence said. “But when there will be my famous Christmas dinner in the table, it will feel like Christmas again.”
“I see... it. I see it,” Charity said and bit her lip. A piece of it chipped off and fell into her mouth. To hide it, she swallowed it quickly and felt grossed out by herself.
Em did not notice the obvious lie, so she beamed happily at the compliment. She had laid all the decorations this year and took great pride in being thrifty at making them.
“So, what is your plan?” Atenea asked as she rose from her chair too.
“My plan?” Charity asked.
“What will you do to keep your flesh?”
“I, um... will be kind?”
“She does not know yet, Atenea. How could she? She just arrived,” Prudence smiled at her and to Charity she said. “How about you come with me and I will show you around? I am due to visit the church anyway to drop in a pie and maybe a prayer too.”
“Gladly,” Charity said when she thought the alternatives.
“Good. I’ll just grab the food and we are good to go!”
Charity waited for Prudence in the hallway for no longer than a minute when she already appeared with a big basket with tons of food. It all looked like maimed dumpster sludge Prudence had kneaded into pastries and then set ablaze. Charity smiled hollowly and let Prudence lead the way.
When the door closed behind them, she stopped smiling and froze.
The world opening in front of her was like someone would have taken all the world’s history, all the cities, towns, cathedrals, and huts, and smashed them together into Megapolis of dead. Everything seemed like nobody really looked after the infrastructure and often houses had pieces missing, paint cracking away, or full-on roofs that were nothing but open spaces.
“It all might be overwhelming...” she heard Prudence say, but it was like an echo in her head as she noticed all the people in the streets. It was like looking at Times Square but everyone was in different stages of decay. She saw missing heads, skeletons, ghosts, dried up husks, rotten things that crawled, and only some of them really cared to put clothes on anymore.
It took her precisely five seconds to faint again.
PRUDENCE SIGHED, GRABBED Charity from her arms and slowly pulled her back indoors onto the dusty hallway mat she had meant to clean up for decades now. Looking at the fledgling laying on it she also realized that it had lots of tears and holes in it, so maybe it had been more than a few. She sat on the floor next to Charity to wait for her to wake up and measured all the other things she now felt had been unkept for too long. Chipped white paint ran along the huge double staircase, the door to the casual living room was still long gone, the checkered floors were dirty and covered in dust. Going through that list in her head she left out one thing; the grand entrance beneath the staircase that led into the ballroom. It had been nailed shut almost as long as she had been dead for and she liked to pretend it wasn’t there. It was easy to do with all the stuff she had piled up in front of it.
She was not ready to face that room in her history in this mockup of the house that she had grown up in.
Charity moaned a little and came to her senses.
“Are you alright? Should I get you a glass of water?”
“I’m not thirsty, thank you,” Charity rubbed her head from muscle memory even though she did not feel any pain.
“Would you like to try that again?”
Outside the world was still a mess but this time Charity held onto Prudence like she was a life preserver and Charity was the one drowning to the ocean of undead. Prudence patted her hand gently whenever she felt Charity squeezing her arm tighter and kept greeting the people on the street. She said hello to the sad-looking Butcher who missed working with real meat, not just rats, the Baker who cried constantly because he no longer could smell or eat his creations, the Flower girl who gave out dried flowers to everyone from a basket that never seemed to empty, and almost every merchant on the street. Her presence seemed to cheer people up and it did not go unnoticed by Charity. She looked at how Prudence, in almost full flesh, made hope gleam light on the rotten faces.
“They remember that this is not forever if we work hard,” Prudence whispered to her ear. “We can regain our flesh and then leave it behind.”
“Is that what you did?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I’ll show you.”
Charity agreed to that and watched Prudence greet some children that looked like dried plums and give them a pie that they graciously took curtsying a little. Then they turned away from the crowded street and the aimless dead doing whatever they did every day, to a very s
ilent one. At the end of it loomed a shape of a dilapidated church and on both sides of the streets grew trees without a single leaf.
“At least there is snow,” Charity commented and looked how the little amount of snow collected on the branches brought up the look of the dreary place.
“It is bone dust.”
“It is what?”
“We like to call it snow though.”
“Why?”
“Snow sounds nicer than ‘those who turned into dust because they refused to reform themselves in here’, don’t you think?”
Charity tried to walk lighter on the soft bone snow the rest of the way.
At the church, they stopped to look at the view before Prudence led them inside. Charity had a good time to take in the church's carcass and the massive half-broken glass window that had once had a cross in it. The whole building was still imposing even though only the central part of it stood tall and there were more holes on the roof than in fishnet stockings.
Inside, Prudence let go off Charity and walked straight to the altar and an almost fleshy preacher polishing it with a rag.
“Father Olivan!” Prudence hugged him tight and handed him the basket with goodies.
“Heavens, Prudence, don’t kill me again,” the priest said with a warm tone. “I do not think it is my time to go yet.”
Prudence let go of him and turned him to look at Charity who stood further away awkwardly. “This is Charity, she is a fledgling and could use your kind words. I will go look at the old ones in the crypt meanwhile. Have fun!” She gave Charity a gentle pat on the shoulder before going wherever the crypt was despite Charity’s attempt to slow her down and stay with her in this strange place. There was only empty benches, shadows, and a strange light filtering through the tall windows, and the priest, but she was still terrified.
“Hello Charity,” the priest said and called her closer. “You seem to be in good flesh still. You haven’t had time to sin, have you?”
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