Graveyard adventure 2

Graveyard adventures: Ghouls.

“You are SUCH a JERK.” The ghost said to me, literally in my ear. I wipe some ectoplasm off my ear. As it turns out, ms.zombie was spirited enough to, uh, spirit. And while zombies don’t like being undead (or if you use the politically enforced term: “Mortally Challenged”), ghosts have all the energy in the world. “True, but zombies stink up the place and upset the visitors.”
“And my skull splattering against the stones WOULDN’T?”
“Yes. It’s a bit of an odd thing, but people always assume that the remains of some zombie is not their favorite dead person without recognizing it. ‘Not my problem’-syndrome. ”
“That’s awful. How many people did you kill already?”
“I un-alived more ‘mortally challenged’ than I care to remember.” I perform air quotes around the mortally challenged bit. It causes the pale lady above me to turn a shade slightly more red (or cerulean, to be exact. She’s a bit blue).
“In case you didn’t notice, I made a game of it. I have 27 recorded cases of golf. Total amounts is… probably still in the double digits, but only barely.”
“That HURT, you know!”
“No it didn’t. Emotionally, maybe, but physically? Your brains fell out at least three times. I don’t think anything hurts if you don’t even notice it. Besides, on the picture you looked more insulted than in pain.”

The ghostly apperition is covering her face, though her see-through nature makes her blush appear even through her hands. It’s admittedly cute, though the glowing is getting annoying. I prefer my nights dark and calm.
“D-don’t talk about my noodles!”
“Why? You’re not using them anymore, you’re a ghost.”
“Y-you IDIOT! It’s… Nobody should see those!”
“And yet, out they fell.  You’re the naughty one, in a way.”
“That doesn’t make any sense! You didn’t exactly help!” She crosses her arms and huffs about two meters away, floating about two meters in the air. She likes looking down on me. I have decided against giving a shit. Ghosts have short attention spans and tend to go haunt their old houses or siblings. This one, however, has been around for a whole day, apparently too angry at me for improving my golf game. She was a new record, too, a whole foot higher than last time. Soon I’ll be able to knock them over the wall…
That’d be a pain in the ass.

“Are you going to keep haunting me?”
“Of course I am! I’m a revenant, you know!”
“You’re a ghost. Revenants have bodies.”
“What do you know!? W-what are you, p-president of the undead club?”
“I run a graveyard. I kind of am. “
“No you’re not! Who voted on you?”
I decided to make a point there. I stood on a local upcropping of rock, and yell to the graves, hand raised.

“ALL AGAINST MY REIGN!?” I yelled.
The graveyard was silent, apart from my echoes. No more hands or zombies, she was the only one this week. It’s been calm, mostly because the moon is barely visible at the moment. After a few more moments, I turn to the ghost.
“Seems nobody minds. Looks like I keep my position.”
“T-that’s not- I… UGH!”
She leaves in a huff, disappearing through the ground. Her heap pops up again just a few meters further. She can’t see anything, after all. She stick out her tongue at me, though, and then continues moving out of sight like a really dumb submarine.

Fucking ghosts. It takes ages for them to leave. Who the hell ever heard of a zombie and a ghost coming from the same body? Bah. Still, I really am glad she didn’t return as a revenant. That happened once, and the fight took so long the local paladin came in. I mean, it was awesome to see the guy dropkick the undead monster, sure, but the fear of death has this way of making anything less cool. He also suggested I join the paladin order, considering I managed to fight the revenant off with a shovel, but I don’t like the clanky curmudgeons. Even though I think most monster girls could do with some re-education on general decency, considering my mom’s a drider I’m not in a position to say no. My dad being a fallen paladin also turned me off from going paladin, but I don’t really care what my old man did back in his day. He and mom made sure I grew up alright, so it’s all good. It’s a boon to enjoy working.

Speaking of, I figure it’s about time for the monthly cleaning of the mausuleums. This graveyard is pretty massive, after all, and I’m only the main gravetender since about two months ago (rest in peace, mister Henderson. You were crazy as fuck but you loved your work). Might as well shoot for the moon on quality. Also it keeps me busy. My internet is down and Monster TV sucks. Unless you like porn, in which case it’s awesome. I just miss wrestling that doesn’t involve a bed. Never saw it on TV, mind, but historical entertainment is fun.

As I was walking to the large, ancient buildings housing the corpses of the more well-off, and the ones housing the ashes of the cremated. Sure is easier to store. I was just a few meters away when I heard the unique gurgling scream that indicated a ghoul had spotted me. My groan reaches a tone that is only audible to specific breeds of dogs, and I start running to one of the shacks spread around here. Old Man Henderson, God rest his soul, made sure to always have some emergency tools on hand for every situation, and I only had my cleaning tools on me right this moment. Of course, the first ghoul was a little earlier than the first shack. No shovel, only a bucket filled with the soaps I was going to use and a rag. So, I had to take a moment to consider what I was going to do. It wasn’t a long moment, mind you. This particular ghoul was willing to put the hunger aside to try out for a new husband instead. They’re kind of like that. They come here for food, and then they see a guy. Loins win out of stomach.

It was only a single ghoul. She’s small, with a generally petite body structure. Her mouth is hanging open, and a long tongue is lolling out as she’s rushing me on all fours. Really, it’d be kind of cute if she wasn’t also pale, dressed in what looked like traditional funeral garb, had hands that looked to be soaked in blood (natural coloration, they don’t draw much blood from corpses), and teeth that can rend bone. Having decided what to do, I turn my bucket over and dump my cleaning supplies on the ground. Fortunately, it’s on a path rather than dirt. Easy to find again later.
You have to think ahead on these things.

I was busier trying to think of something to say than I was on the actual plan, but I knew ghouls enough that I could be pretty sure of what follows. I decided to go for an ancient one, but it’s all I could think of at the moment. It was for my own entertainment more than the ghoul, after all. With a running start (causing the ghoul to give a little yelp in delight) I put my legs to full use as I jump forward with the bucket still upside down in both hands. As I expected, the ghoul jumps up towards me as well, and only then does she realize what I was saying during my run up and jump.
“Come on and JAM, and welcome to the-“

Far louder than needed, I screamed the “SLAM” almost louder than the hollow metallic thunk of the bucket getting placed on the ghoul’s head. The metal bends slightly, and the ghoul goes down like a sack of potatoes. I keep on running as she tries to figure out what happened. I did notice she was giggling, though. Ghouls don’t feel much pain, though they can get a little befuddled by a bucket slamdunk. I think she got the reference, too, because she’s still smiling when the bucket is removed. That or it’s that type of grin intended to show teeth over a smile. Hard to tell at this distance.
I reach the shed, and pull the door open. All manner of shovels and spades are here, but I decide to go for the heavy spade. Reinforced handle and wider blade, mostly for picking up large amounts of loose dirt. In case a willing undead ends up buried while napping. Some zombies (mostly the ones that rose within a year) are more than willing to take the perks of monsterdom over being dead. It’s the late risers that you should put down.
When I step outside, I see the slamdunked ghoul has caught up already. She’s yelling something of her own. Mostly things referring to how she likes men that play rough. Running at full tilt, in a straight line, makes this almost too easy. I put myself at ease, square my shoulders, bend the knees, raise the shovel over my head and wait for a second. The ghoul does a fake-out before attacking, and I show her that I know that trick when another metal echo spreads across the graveyard. My arms shake from the force, and the ghoul drops to the ground with a comical splat. Groggy and confused, she starts getting up, but I know how to follow up on that one.

“Get OUT of my YARD.” I yell as I literally kick her ass. Pushed forward, face in the dirt, she starts turning around, hoping to pounce me. I respond by slapping her down with the shovel again, on her back. The weight of the swing is enough to push her down, though she clearly doesn’t feel enough pain to be down for long. I grab her by the scruff of her neck and start carrying her out of here. I keep the blade of the shovel right under my hand, so I could slap her down if her struggling switches from “playful” to “active escape attempt”. She’s REALLY into this, but I sure as shit wasn’t. After about ten minutes of dragging, slamming and at one point grappling (I should have kept my fucking mouth shut about wanting some classic wrestling). I barely avoided getting bitten, so when she’s out of the graveyard and the gate is closed, she decides to go away, but not before shaking her body in alluring ways. I’m sweating, panting, and trying to ignore that multiple ghouls are still in the yard, so it’s about as erotic as a wet noodle for me. And I don’t connect with thots.

 Of course, not galvanizing them with slam jams and buckets to the head should make it easier to just run them off with the shovel. I grip the shovel tightly, and take a detour to my new house to put on a tough overall. Some corpses are going to have some nibbles on them, but the commotion of my dragging the masochist out should have stopped them for at least a few moments.
Overall on, steel-tipped boots, tough gloves… I’d put on Henderson’s helmet if I could, but the tough old bastard would be liable to rise from the grave to beat my ass if I did. And really, you never know with the paladins. Former or otherwise. Before I go, however, I decide to pick up my favorite shovel. I open up the storage closet, and who else would be there than Ghost Girl. She yells when she sees me, and pushes her dress down in an embarrassed manner.

“What the fuck are you… Nevermind.” I decide that the ghouls are a more pressing problem than a ghost in my closet. I take my shovel, and try to ignore the ectoplasm on the handle. I wipe it off, happy to be wearing gloves, as I run to the mausoleum. The ghouls always prefer those, because it’s dry and warm in comparison, and there’s less digging. When I enter, I only see a single ghoul, a younger one. Couldn’t be older than 16. Her age doesn’t matter to me as much as the fact that she’s eating the hand of one of the best-paying permanent residents.
“HEY! DROP IT AND GIT!” I shout, wielding my shovel like a baseball bat. She stares at me like a deer in the headlights, and I come closer to her while making sure to leave a large hole for her to escape past me. She eats another finger before dropping the shrivelled hand and then makes a run for it to the stairs. Breathing in rapid, shallow breaths, she’s clearly scared of me. Excellent, she’ll be easier to scare off in the future. As I turn to her, though, I suddenly see that, hanging on the roof, is the other ghoul.

She’s considerably older than the little one, and her body shows it. Her dress only barely manages to keep her from being indecent. Her massive mammeries are hanging down, the typical torn ghoul dress (where do they all get these? Is there a store for it?) leaving a massive amount of cleavage. Then she speaks as she drops down in front of the stairs, her body jiggling in the breeze
“Ara ara~, who this strapping young man scaring my poor kid?”
“One who’s about to kick your fucking ass if you don’t get out of my god-damned yard!”
“Aww” She says, pouting and putting her finger on her soft lips. “Aren’t you energetic… Come now, give momma a hug.” She opens her arms, clearly beckoning me with her body.
Yep. That’s enough.

I take a deep breath, and place my shovel behind my back, hand close to my shoulder. I double-check to see if the ceiling is high enough, and nod quietly to myself. I breathe out again, close one eye at the beckoning ghoul, and use my shoulder as leverage as I toss the shovel. I hear a gasp from the ghoul, and she only barely manages to catch the shovel with her large, blood-stained hands. Meaning I succeed at my attempt, and distract her enough that my dropkick forces the flat of the shovel against her face anyway. I don’t land right, and I hurt myself a little bit, but the fact that the ghoul is stumbling back leaves me with the opportunity to grab her ankle and throw her down. Then, I take my shovel, smack her over the head again, and start yelling
“God dang it, get OUT of my yard, now! NOOOW!” I end up kicking her up the stairs as she tries to get her bearings again, smearing my overalls with some of the blood on her arms (seriously, how?) and at one point forcing me to headbutt her as she tries to go in for a kiss.  (or a bite). I’d feel a lot better about if she wasn’t moaning so much as I did it.

Her daughter was a lot more skittish about it, though, and got out of the way.
“Get out.” I said again, punctuating it with another kick. Channelling my inner Hank Hill, I eventually manage to chase the mother out of here, with the daughter following close behind. A momma’s girl, evidently. Eventually, I reach the closest gate, throw her out as well, and leave it open long enough for the daughter to follow.
“If I see you again I’m bringing in my fucking paladin gear, you hear me!” A bluff, of course. I don't have paladin gear.
“Ooohhh~, you’re threatening me with a good tiiime~.”
“You keep talking like that and I’m coming out there and kicking your ass.”
“Please do.”
“I mean it, do not-“
“Come ooon~” she says, shaking her ass at me and wavering her voice again.
With a completely neutral face, apart from a furrowed brow,  I move to the side of the gate and pick up a pot of holy water from one of the (former) flower pots.

Like I said, Henderson was a prepared son of a bitch. As she looked at the bottle of the stuff, her tone quickly changes.
“P-please. There’s no need for THAT!”
I open the bottle, and spill it over my shoes. My socks end up a little soggy, but it’s worth it. She’s visibly relieved at me ‘spilling’ it.
“I said I was going to kick your ass, and by heck, Imma do it.”
I kick open the gate and rush at her. The kick works a lot better now that her undead toughness is neutralized. She yells in pain as her buttocks take the brunt of my godly wrath, and I end up kicking her out of the street as she crawls away on all fours, having rapidly learnt her lesson. Then I look at the daughter, who has not ran away yet. She’s looking at me, blush very visible on her grey, pale skin. God dang it. I do NOT need a ghoul crush.

“Git.”
“Yes sir!” She squeaks out, and she runs off in the direction of her mother.
When I get back, I get my cleaning supplies, and get to cleaning the mausoleums. It takes me a while. Then I head back to the house and shitpost on /paladin/.
Today was a good day. Even if I later realize that ghost girl is still haunting my house.
Fucking undead.