Not much really to say here. Sam getting attacked by a corpse that wants to talk her into switching over to Team Sith. Let's see how it pans out. Oh and I'm really getting annoyed with Scratchpad mashing text lines together.
Sam's eyes snapped open and the first realization she had was the heel of somebody's hand pressed against her forehead. Next she noted she couldn't move. "I had hoped we could have a better understanding of where we each stood without me using such crude methods." Silken voice in the dark just to one side of her bed. It felt cold. Not the bone crushing cold of a brutal winter front. It was just enough to cause goosebumps to creep across her arms.
Can't do anything but keep him from gnawing at me. There was fear in the voice. Move!
I can't. Sam tried cycling through her options. Armor too busy on some metaphysical level to do anything for her and she couldn't move. Words and motions were not strictly needed for spellcraft, but these things along with rituals, burnt incense, robes, and the other trappings helped focus the mind.
She tried to center her mind. There wasn't much in way of distraction Just a slight chill. It should have been easy but every time her will gathered the cold intensified. Help me!
She started thinking of a song. Something forgettable and not even something she really liked save it was in the credits to Iron Savior and she loved that movie. The bell rang. It sounded muffled and distant. Somewhere flies buzzed.
Corpseguy's focus flickered just a little befoe he tried clamping down harder. His face tightened.
The bell rung again, clearer this time. A piano started playing. The cold didn't matter. The man who was now drawing a knife didn't seem to matter.
"Voltos." Word didn't sound right in her ears, but the word didn't matter except to let the mind shape otherwise untameable energies. An arch of electricity went from the nearest wall outlet and hit the intruder. He seemed more annoyed than hurt and other than it's movements getting a little more jerky there seemed to be no effect. After all with hte glamor stripped away he looked like nothing more than a dried out body so we'll forgive him if his senses are dulled.
Then the front of the corpse's head exploded outward with far less chunky matter and gooy bits than one might expect. Another hole appeared by the first one and this time Sam realized someone was in her doorway shooting the knife wielding zombie. Third shot was to the heart, but it was unnecessary because the corpse had slumped over. Whatever force was making it move before seemed gone.
"Is it dead?" David's voice was shaky as he walked closer, gun still aimed at the body.
Other than the fact it wasn't alive to begin with? Sure. The armor, voice in Sam's head, or whatever it really was that whispered to her seemed confident. Real embarrassing.
We're alive. That's what counts. Sam shoved the body off of her and made a face. "Peachy." Less than happy tone. "Got my head violated then it was going to cut my throat open since I turned the recruitment offer down. "Call the cops. I'm going to get cleaned up."
David looked at the body now dumped in Sam's bedroom floor that, by all appearances, had been dead a very long time. "Think we should do anything about that? You didn't get any on you?" His attention turned from the body to Sam.
Don't worry. It's not like the movies. You won't keel over, die, then gt reanimated. Just get him to put the gun down. I don't think I could block for you. Sam pulled the cover off her bed and threw it over the body. "I'm fine... I think Just leme clean up. We'll look me over."
"Yea." David shook his head and walked away. "Yea.... I'll... just go call..."
"Make sure you ask for Detective Hobbs. Wanted me to call if anything followed me home. He'll want a report." Just how I'm going to make them understand this mess is going to take doing.