* * *

The sky was ominously overcast as the sun set, its rays blood red and tinging the landscape as if the clouds had been murdered. It was going to be a cold night, and already the guards were wrapping up warmly. Two of them led their captive into the building ahead, it's door dark and empty, like a waiting mouth. Behind them, another two guards held their captive, at least until, with surprising strength, she jerked out of their grasp and ran forward.

Michele grabbed hold of the leading guard's shoulder, instinctively he pointed a pistol at the young rabbit. His gaze was contemptuous and unmerciful.

"Where are you taking him?"
"You don't expect two terrorist suspects would be held in the same cell, or even the same building do you? Where you can plot and plan a cover story, or even perform some sort of suicide pact? Say goodbye to your friend here, you won't be seeing him in a long, long time."

Michelle gasped and dashed forward. Out of surprise the guard let off a round that grazed her shoulder and knocked her off balance. In a flash she was up again, but this time the gun was pointed at Tony. A hand fell across her shoulder and she turned to see another guard grasping her firmly and shaking her head. This one wore a different uniform and looked rather unkempt, a young white fox, whose perfect, pointed teeth showed when she smiled. She gently grabbed Michelle's hands and led her away, across the compound and towards the forest. Michelle twisted her head around as far as she could, her last glimpse of Tony being his pained face as a guard kicked him in the shint o hurry him along.

"There's nothing you can do my dear. Just come with me; there's been an arrangement."
"Where are we going?"
"You'll see. Now strap this on; it'll block anyone tracking us, electronically or by magic."

The fox hurried along at a surprising speed, they were well into the forest now, surrounded by nothing but the quiet organic sounds of the trees. Michelle almost struggled to keep up, still finding it strange she wasn't panting from the exertion. The device the fox had handed her resembled a small bracelet, silver, but with strange black markings on it that seemed to be strangely indistinct, as if they were shadows trapped in the metal. However, once it had clicked onto her wrist, it wouldn't come off, no matter how hard it was tugged. All of a sudden the fox stopped dead, turned, stared at her with deep blue eyes and handed her a small black box, with a silver disk embedded in its top.

"This is a copy of a book known as the Chronicles of Bruhn; one of quite a few me and my comrades made without our... leader's knowledge. Of course, we should probably call them the Chronicles of Parker by now.
"I don't understand, what has this got to do with anything?"

Michelle was completely confused, nothing was making sense. The box was strangely warm in her grasp, and heavy, as if it were packed with ead. The fox tapped the box on it's upper face; it shimmered and a holograph of a page flickered into view. The fox swiped her finger along it a few times, and the page shimmered, other texts popping past until it showed what she wanted. The text was strange, it looked not so much like writing, but rather as if someone had placed a small razorblade at the end of a pencil, then repeatedly slashed the page with it. It was nothing she'd ever seen before, and there were diagrams too, and tables, shimmering just above the box.

"You don't know what you are, you're an Arcania zombie, descended from the circle or Bruhn themselves. As far as I can tell, you're only two down from the line. Perhaps I should bow?"
"Bruhn, who's Bruhn? You keep mentioning him."
"Let's walk and talk, we have the time. He's the Big Guy. The Boss, the creator of all the undead races. Werewolves first, then vampires, and finally zombies. Each an improvement on the last apparently. Vampires are stronger than us, and zombies too, and harder to kill than anything. Mind you, Bruhn wasn't always successful..."

Michele listened as they moved further into the forest, as the sun set and the moon rose, walking in almost pitch black darkness. She heard about how the great Bruhn had taken prisoners, slaves and innocents and twisted their bodies, spawned the first of the undead, not just the pure races, but accidents, twisted creatures that begged for a death that never came. The stupid, moaning zombies that could still be found in wild areas were some of the less twisted results. In the end he'd transformed a circle of his greatest friends into an almost all-powerful cadre... and then what? Something had happened to end almost all of them. Michelle wasn't paying much attention; the dark held no fears for her now, but all the time she worried about Tony; what were they doing to him? What would they do to her?

And all of a sudden, there were there. The fox had slowed and was sniffing the air, evidently she was being guided by scent. They were deep in the woods now, who knew where, though there *was* a trail here; an ant would've ignored it, it was just a rough path through the clearings, covered in moss and split by bracken. And there was a large hole in it, right in the middle. Next to it was a large bulky mechanical craft, the dirt had been piled up neatly on a platform nearby, the mossy turf cut into neat squares. The fox stopped suddenly, confused, then ran over to the hole and peered at the bottom.
"Twofire!" she gasped.

Michelle became aware of several presences behind her, she'd been too caught up to pay attention to her 'life sense' There was a sharp flash and the fox whimpered and fell into the hole, right on top of the body of the wolf she'd presumably been waiting to meet.

"Ah, Fourfox, such a pretty girl, pity about the name, if there's one thing the Vyrrn clan couldn't do it was names. Smart though, far too smart it seems. Copying my little book behind my back, tut tut, you could have just asked to borrow it."

The voice was clipped, measured, and certainly quite different from when she'd heard it last, but Michelle recognized it long before she twirled around to face the speaker. Gary Parker was leaning idly against a tree, flanked by two strange rabbits, normal from what Michelle could tell, and that made sense.

"I don't know if I should thank you my dear, you did, after all remove a large number of those whose loyalty to me was wavering, and I have taken care of the rest. But I really must deal with you, I had a rather unpleasant time getting rid of the last lot, but we live and learn, or, in most cases at least one of them."
"You can't do anything to me, not like this."
"Oh but I can, it's all in the book you know. Only extreme fire will take care of you permanently of course, but I've always been more... inventive. Low calcium cement, about six tonnes; emphasis on the tonnes."

Gary Parker was grinning widely now, like a child who had just built their tallest block tower and wanted to show it off to their parents. He gave the slightest nod towards a shaded vehicle nearby that turned out, on closer inspection, to be a cement mixer. The two rabbits that had been standing idly by were now working the controls of the machinery nearby. Parker had taken a lot of trouble to dig the pit, the vehicles were all hoverers, which was the only way you'd get anything into forest this thick, the turf had been cut out nicely, and the hole was neat, six feet wide and six feet deep. But what-

There was a flash and Michelle felt herself split in two, saw her legs tumble after her into the pit, landing on the still-warm body of her former captor. Then something else hit her, it was cold and thick, like liquid stone.

"Out of courtesy, I saved you a meal for your stay, and believe me, that will be a long, long time. You will of course, go quite mad, I suggest you try and think of all those you left behind, it will keep you sane, for a few years at least, and I do so like to see a good struggle. And no, nobody is coming for you, nobody will find you, unless, oh, maybe in a few decades they'll plow the place up for apartments, not if I have anything to do with it though."

The cement bogged her down, Michelle struggled to pull herself up but the more that poured down, the more firmly it held her. She struggled and thrashed in the much, but it was no use, it poured down onto her like an avalanche of rock, pinning her arms, crushing her chest, filling into her mouth and nose, muffling her screams and struggles.

It wasn't long before the cement had buried the rabbit. Gary watched until the tank was completely emptied, the surface settling and bubbling gently. It would harden in less than half an hour, and get stronger for years afterward. His two contractors dumped another ton or two of earth on top, taking absolute care not to leave a single ounce misplaced. Finally they replaced the turf, neatly as it had been removed, so you could barely see where it had been disturbed. Finally, to top things off Gary planted a small seedling he'd removed from nearby; after all, it paid to have *some* marker of this place. Maybe he'd come back to watch its progress afterwards.

By the time the sun rose the next day there was very little trace of the night's activities; some scents, earth sprinkled where it shouldn't be, a ragged look to the bracken. But this place was popular, in a sense. Many lay buried under the turf here; Gary Parker had many enemies... once. It wasn't easy to control the undead, or the underworld. The next day a gentle rain smoothed out the newest, and most secure grave in the unofficial graveyard. By that time the two that knew its location were already sinking into the mud of the river carrotus with their own personal supply of cement.

A week later the silence was broken by a flock on hungry starlings scrapping over a large worm, but that was all that disturbed the small sapling as it settled its roots in for the slow but steady growth it had plans for in the long, long years ahead.


.