Chapter Text
You trekked through the starless night, weaving through streetlights into the small graveyard. You’d never thought one day you’d be this desperate for a meal, but here you were. Your large paws moved silently through the cemetery, sharp eyes skimming the dates on the headstones to be sure you didn’t just find bones.
You stopped, finally setting your sights on one fresh enough. Simon Henriksson. He’d just died a month ago, poor guy. The name seemed familiar, maybe he’d been in the news. Not that you ever read it. No one would even know what had happened to his body, the body you were about to devour. You set your claws to work on the soft, packed ground below his head stone.
You’d finally dug deep enough to reach his coffin, your ears twitching on high alert. The coffin wasn’t very sturdy looking, so you slammed your paw through it. You broke it, but the pain of punching straight through made you wince, but you reached your paw in and opened the coffin anyway. You leaned in further, inspecting the body of the man closer. He looked semi-edible, and not like he’d died of disease at the very least. It was as good of a corpse you’d get.
Suddenly, the man shot up, and let out a loud gasp. Your blood ran cold. You scrambled away from the grave, so startled you hadn’t realized you’d shifted back into a human. The man was lifting himself out of the hole, and looking at you.
“What the fuck! You’re alive?” You shouted, still sitting on the grass. The man shrugged. “Guess I am. What’s it to you?” He said, calmly. “What it is to me is I was about to fuckin’ eat you.” He touched his embalmed face, then reached a finger into his mouth to feel for something. “I didn’t think zombies were real.” You whispered to yourself. He laughed. “I didn’t think werewolves were real. Or whatever you are. You’re very pretty, by the way.”
You looked down, and realized you’d been talking to the man, not only human, but naked the whole time. You quickly brought yourself back into your wolf-self, and stood up. “Simon, is it? I came here for something to eat. Not to be oggled at.” You growled, flicking your tail in a sassy, annoyed manner.
“I’m not stopping you, come over here and eat me then.” He said, scratching at a small fungal growth on the side of his neck. You gagged at the thought now. “I'd rather starve.” You turned your snout up at him. “Seems like the maggots’ll have their way with you soon enough, anyhow.”
You turned to scurry out of the cemetery. “Wait! You’re not gonna help cover my grave?” Simon asked. You let out an annoyed huff and walked back over to Simon, who was now back laying in his coffin. He talked while you worked. “Do you know a girl named Sophie? She’s an old friend of mine.” He said. You rolled your eyes while you kicked up dirt. “I’m horrible with names. Describe her and I might.”
Simon continued, but his voice was starting to become muffled over the sounds of dirt on wood. “She has light brown hair, she’d be mostly around Stockholm?” You stopped kicking dirt into the hole to think. “Nope. Nobody I can think of. Why?” You asked. Simon paused, then continued. This time he sounded much more serious. “I need to find her.”
Dead people always have unfinished business, you suppose. “How would you do that? Don’t suppose a normal person would react calmly to their dead friend saying hi to ‘em.”
Simon said nothing, and for a second staring back into the open grave, you felt a chill as it set in you were talking to a dead man. “Would you help me?” He finally asked. “Help?” You swallowed thinking about the karma that awaits you if you don’t help. “Like how?”
“Can I stay with you?”