A Body to Call My Own Pt.4

The modern part of this world seemed to disappear as we watched a typical crowd with torches and pitchforks arriving at the cemetery. I was Viktor Frankenstein, and Tadashi embodied the monster I had created — as an avid reader, I’m afraid to spoil that neither side is a pleasant place to be.

The closer they got, the more frightened I became.

These eyes must be rotten, it can't be... Are they holding lightsabers?

Tadashi's dead eyes did not deceive him — among the lights, several were sabers and not torches.

Old men with rifles, ladies with brooms on fire at the tips, there was even a dog holding a knife in its mouth — the population of that small town showed its most aggressive side.

There was no room for explanation or argument, the thieves had us in check.

“With lead and fire, we will purge the curses that plague this cemetery!” shouted a lady.

Time to get out of here, Shi-nii!

Nothing against the corpse we had rented, but I don't think it was worth a fight against a crowd. We're already working with somewhat questionable morals, even if we win the fight, I think it will be difficult for the reader to feel comfortable after beating up a bunch of old people and children who live in the middle of nowhere.

Let's just get out and...

Get out!

...No? 

Calm down, I can do it: G-E-T O-U-T!

Okay, we were trapped.

I KNEW SOMETHING WAS GOING TO GO WRONG!

No matter how hard I tried to leave the body, it pulled me back. Unlike the villain's body, the corpse had developed a clear parasitic dependence on our soul in the few hours we remained there. The body didn't want to let go of its new source of spiritual energy.

A curse had locked us inside that body. I didn’t know how it was possible, but figuring it out would take longer than we had.

The crowd passed through the wide-open iron gate, moving almost like it was a parade. I can’t blame them much — small towns suck, there’s never anything to do. At least I gave them some Sunday night entertainment.

We're going to get crushed by them, and you're happy to entertain them?

Just trying to be positive. But, don’t worry, young grasshopper, I have a plan! We’ll just have to take on the roles of teacher and student. I need you to follow my instructions precisely.

Now you want to teach me something? You didn't even want to teach me how to fly a few hours ago!

For a bird to fly, it must first learn to sneeze... three times at the same time.

Did that make... sense? Like, I was even following your line of thinking, until the part about sneezing.

I don’t know how much you remember, but the software our soul is running was updated by Grayer. If, in our changing world, nothing has changed in its version, then there is a way for the soul to leave the body — a bug, so to speak.

Sneezing in the early forms of life caused souls to leave through the jolt, but that was before the patches they applied. Still, they left this bug in the rare triple sneeze.

I know we shouldn't waste time and words on this, but for the love of God, explain what a triple sneeze is.

Sneezing is a response to an irritation, with the response being inhalation and then sneezation (the technical term for entities).

During the first sneeze attempt, as a lot of air containing other stimulating content must be inhaled, triggering a second sneeze before the first one even completes — that’s when the real magic happens. If aided by the right gravity, body position, and a little luck, a third stimulus can be created milliseconds after the second.

The triple sneeze is so paradoxical in its multiple virtuality that it produces a shock that not even angels could predict. The result? The soul flies away along with the usual load of the sneeze!

But, Shi-nii, the question remains: we don’t have lungs, we’re undead… how are we supposed to sneeze?

Leave it to me, the master of spirit-physiological connections is here. I just need you to do one thing for me: BUY TIME!

The state of concentration I will enter is so extreme that... I will let you narrate it.

Huh…Not only were our lives in my hands, but I was back to being the narrator.

Fighting is not an option, I cannot accept such bloodshed. I have to show my peaceful intentions, but words cannot impact such a crowd; my voice is weak and my argument will be too weak to stop them.

I needed to convey a clear and complete message of peace with my body and soul.

Among the crowd, a chubby guy carries a speaker — 120 BPM, playing some easy-going dance music.

Even though I wasn't in my original body, a memory from my childhood came to mind:

NO, TADASHI, I HATE FLASHBACKS—

A long time ago, my sister had a dream of becoming a great Broadway dancer.

One day, my mother came home from work and said she had enrolled us in tap and jazz dance classes to fulfill my sister's dream.

I was quite shocked by the “us” in that sentence. Apparently, she had gotten a big discount if she also enrolled a boy — they were short on men for the choreography. 

I was shy, but when it came to money, my mom could be fierce. I’d rather wound my pride than provoke my mom into punishing me.

I took several classes from age 10 to about 14. Every time there were duets that required a boy, they’d line the girls up, and I had to repeat the same dance like ten times. 

Another issue was English. Every time I had to sing in English, it was a disaster. My English was so bad that it sounded like I was talking with my mouth full of marbles.

It was exhausting, but little by little I actually started to enjoy it.

“Women love a good dancer. You’re going to be a hit at parties!” my dad would say on the rides back from dance practice, trying to cheer me up.

Everything was fine until one day a word hit me like an arrow.

“Your nickname among the girls is Skinny Legs. They’re not even that skinny, but your knees are so big that they create an optical illusion that makes them look even skinnier,” my sister said, laughing.

“MY LEGS ARE SKINNY AND UGLY!?”

I was already there out of obligation, so it didn’t take much for me to quit. 

I think my sister was getting upset that I was dancing better than her — but that wasn’t even my fault; I had to do everything 200 times for being the only boy. Being humiliated was one thing, but by a bunch of girls, that’s where I drew the line.

All the stars were misaligned for my forced dancing career. After I left, my sister lost interest too.

It would be strange to say, but I actually kind of missed it.

Amid all that despair in that new world, in my decayed mind echoed the words of my dance teacher:

"There is no greater expression of peace than dance."

Tap-tap — my feet tapped to the music. I didn’t know how much I still remembered, or even if the muscle memory had somehow carried over to my soul, but it didn’t matter.

I don't want to spoil your fun, but this dead calf isn't one of the prettiest…Not just your leg, but your whole body is kind of disgusting now. Are you sure you want to do this?

Be quiet and keep doing your job, man.

The moment the crowd saw me, I picked up my arm that was on the floor, using it as a cane.

“It's showtime!” I said, getting into position.

BOOM.

I did a double somersault just to impress.

They stopped to watch me.

Following the music, I started tap dancing at top speed:

First a classic style leaning more towards jazz, with a hip swing, then starting to spin, using my separated right arm as an extension of my moves.

Second, modern tap dancing, performing every possible acrobatic move, tapping along the branches of a dark wooden tree that I had leapt onto in a single jump.

Third, Irish tap dancing, cut to Scottish style, in a triple cut for Russian folk dance.

Before you say I didn't do anything: Using mana, I gave Tadashi's legs an extra push to increase the sound of the taping, reverberating the sound.

Unbelievably, Tadashi's plan was working:

“Holy shit...” one of the villagers couldn't believe what he was seeing.

I reached a point where I no longer knew if I was following the music or vice versa. Even though I was unsure, it didn't matter, as the music and I became one, impressing everyone.

Doing a split, I felt like I’d shattered a few bones in my pelvis on the stage, but in the end I raised my arm and tossed my cane

…Yikes, my arm went far.

Anyway, it was beautiful.

“We can't kill this monster, he's an artist!” said a voice from the crowd.

Everyone applauded, the bandits gaping in disbelief.

There, for the first time, despite my malnourished and dying body, I received a shower of applause.

Finally, the chains that held me back from dancing in public fell to the ground.

You created a problem, developed it, and solved it in the same chapter. See, Tadashi, that's why I don't let you guide the story! Not to mention that with that same effort, we could have just run away and left them eating dirt.

But that’s okay, since it worked… Still, I need a few minutes to reset the receptors. Does your show have a second act?

Hmm… No.

I could sing, but this throat isn’t going to help me much.

Let’s get some dialogue going then!

“People, I...” I started a beautiful speech, discussing what it meant to be dead and alive.

The music continued, none of them listening to anything.

“Hey, turn that down,” said one of them, flicking the owner of the speaker.

The volume promptly went down, and everyone paid attention.

“…That’s all I have to say.”

“I couldn’t hear a thing, son,” said an old man in the corner.

Damn it… you know what? I’m going to scare the hell out of them.

“I am a dancing messenger of the dead, the first to return among all the bodies here. We are furious because...”

Why would I be furious?

….Oh, of course!

“Because these two delinquents stole from all the bodies here!” I said, pointing at the two thieves. 

A citizen, who appeared to be a giant, lifted the brave bandit, who began to struggle to be released.

“I believe this annoying guy would do that, but not Peterleluya! Why would he steal from a cemetery?” asked the giant, looking at the more timid thief.

Dejected, the thief took off his hood, tears streaming down his face:

“T-the zombie speaks the truth...”

“You were raised here in the city since you were a child, we all love you, why would you steal, Peterleluya?”

Peterleluya? It's an... exotic name, to say the least.

The weakest thief took a step forward — an almost psychological weight fell on that step.

I felt that, unfortunately, it seems it was a turning point for the boy.

“For all these years, the noble exploited us in the Nybhirium mines. Our people were forced to work there because there was no other employment. My own father died from inhaling the toxins of that damn place! The mines were depleted, and they left with all the wealth!”

Jumping on a rock, he turned to the crowd:

“For years we bowed down to the powerful. They even made a cemetery to bury the upper class. Now that they're gone, they've also abandoned their dead here. No one visits them! Meanwhile, my father is buried at the edge of the mine with the other miners."

OMG, he's destroying me.

“Everyone here knows my mother's condition. I need money to pay for healing potions. So, yes, I had to steal the crumbs they left behind to save her.”

....

A silence fell over the cemetery.

I have to do something:

"Where is the sheriff of the region? Arrest this man, he just confessed to a crime. Otherwise, the dead will consume the city."

A man took a step forward:

"I am the sheriff! And you — you miserable corpse standing there — are the only living… er, dead proof that our friend robbed this place… I WILL GRIND YOU DOWN AND SAVE PETERLELUYA! WHO’S WITH ME?!"

Everyone raised their weapons, even the damn dog:

“LET’S CATCH THIS ZOMBIE AND MAKE HIM DANCE FOR US EVERY SINGLE DAY! DEATH TO THE ELITE, LONG LIVE THE REVOLUTION!"

Things escalated faster than I thought...

Sniff...

Don't worry, kid, I came with the big guns. Now I need dust for the second stimulus.

Before they could attack, Tadashi punched the ground hard, creating a sudden cloud of dust. A small particle of dust landed on our noses, which I ended up making work by direct connection.

Sniff...

WE GOT THE SECOND ONE NOW DO WHAT I SAY!

Tadashi, in the midst of the dust storm he created, jumped and did a triple somersault, crossing his legs at the exact moment his body was upside down at a 90-degree angle to the ground. Coldly calculated movements, as expected from the great dancer that he was!

THANKS MAN, I'M GONNA CRY...

Sn... Sni... Sniff... Sn... Sniffff... SNIFFFF... sniffsniffsniffsniffsniff—Achoo-choo-CHOOO!

For the first time, this new world saw that marvel.

A triple sneeze!

We were thrown out of the body with such force that we couldn't even guess where we would land.