Tree Eater

It is said that it takes two to tango. How true is that? 

Joy looks at the creature in front of her, neither a beast nor man. There is a question stuck in her throat. Preventing death was the reason she showed up, but can she maintain her composure if it really is him? She thinks about it with a heavy heart.

"Are you … Tarik?"

Tarik, on the other hand, longs for a bloodbath. As long as he rises above all others, he'd do whatever it takes. Her sword is wavering, but his instincts are clear: she is not to be taken lightly.

"I see. My fame precedes me. I'm not currently signing." 

A chill from deep into her soul moves through her body, she starts gritting her teeth and frantically wagging her fingers. She can barely contain it inside, and as he grins at her, it doesn't get any easier. 

In a battlefield, your feelings should be already sorted out. That was what was taught to Tarik, that's how he has been trained. If you are only taught to feel rage and live by it, that is a simple task — the very basics.

The overwhelming feelings and the unwillingness to act upon them have shaken the girl. A beginner's mistake. Or so was what Tarik thought. 

After the leap, there is nothing a big cat can do. The strength of his jump and the weight of its body, which are normally his strengths, now are pushing her sword deeper into his chest. She let herself fall while holding her sword upwards.

Back in his human form, he can see her under his body and between his arms. His heart was impaled and the warm, welcoming, rain is washing over his back. He barely feels the pain, but she is tearing up. 

"I ..." She punches the floor on her side, "I forgive you."

She opens her eyes into the view of a very confused face.

 He gets up, and takes the weapon from his own chest.  

"You forgive me?" Stabs the floating droplet, "What exactly do you think is going on here?"

Her skill is immediately dispelled. 

She hesitates.

"You murdered my brother, but … I can see you had a hard life — we can move on. There is life to be had after. As long as you repent, you can be forgiven."

She barely stands up and doesn't move. Containing her anger and saying such words takes all she has.

"A hard life? That is precious." his smiles grows into a menacing grimace, "Do you think the world is made up of flowers? 'I forgive you'? 'We can move on'? Do you have any idea of what I have done? What that boy you saved has done?" 

"You know how I met Daniel?" he lunges and pins her down with his elbow on her throat, "It was my first mission as the commander of a platoon, I was 12. We got to a small village, not even outside our territory, just some starving locals. They barely had anything other than their life and their family, but that was fine — That was what I wanted anyway."

He places the tip of the sword right above her cheekbone.

"No need to become a leader to take some lives, is there? No, I told my fellow soldiers to kill the men, round up the mothers and bring me their children. Daniel was the youngest of the children, merely 5 years old, but already had a detached look, so promising. I still remember his small hands, barely holding on to the knife I put in his hands. " He starts pushing the tip into her skin while continuing, "Oh, his face before I told him 'Go ahead, just push it, and we'll feed you, train you, take care of you'. And his face after he has done it. There is no going back from that!"

She holds the blade with her bare hand, and it starts glowing in a deep dark blue, the moisture in the air once again moving, circling them.

[Tear from another world]

"Doesn't matter how much you can heal our skin, our tissues, or our organs! There are scars that are far deeper. You're a futile little girl."

As the ground starts rumbling, Joy remembers that city folk that she helped last week. He was stabbed in the bar, his wound wasn't lethal, and she treated the infection within the hour, but he still refuses to go out to this day. She visits him every day, and even a week later he is still not ready to go back to the world. How much time would Tarik and Daniel need? A deep sorrow floods her heart, It wouldn't be enough to have a new chance, they required a fresh start … 

She doesn't have much time to think about that, as hands come emerging from the ground, all over the place. 

They grab Tarik's knees, and he has to jump back and protect himself. 

They take Joy by the hands, the waist, and the legs. Last she sees is her vision being obstructed by the last one from the top of her head.

However, her body starts losing form, taking an ink-like black aspect, before taking a new form

[Words of acceptance]

A character in a book. Joy Jones. Tanned skin. Black Hair. Yellow Eyes. Happiness. Anger. Grief. Bargaining. Acceptance. etc. 

A bundle of words, without a definite shape. There was nothing a zombie could do against the word yellow or the word anger. They cannot feed on the very concept of happiness or hope. 

The words spread all over, but move in coordination, too abstract to be destroyed or fully grasped. When united they have a meaning, they have a form. They bundle above a nearby house and string into longer and longer phrases while taking the shape of a woman, of Joy. 

"That is not who you truly are. No kid is sitting at home and decides to massacre a Village! It is not your fault. It is not his fault!"

"It IS our fault! We DID what we did, and it won't change. Look all around you!" Tarik leaps with Jaguar legs, following her, "All over this city. People are being met with their loved ones, back from the dead to eat their flesh. Even if YOU forgive us, even if you could HEAL us. Will those people accept that? SHOULD they accept that?"

She looks down to the sea of walking corpses. Her breathing stops, before going full throttle, the tears fill her eyes. There are no doubts about it, José's undead body is there, walking aimlessly. The image of her brother's rotting flesh is too much for her, and she starts crying. 

At his point, the temple starts to spit fire from its bottom floor, and it is rising through the closer tower. Daniel can be seen jumping from the top window, and Sally follows suit. 

Tarik smiles, and lifts the borrowed sword, readying his blow, "Let the grown-ups deal with this. okay, little girl?" and swings downward towards the desolate Joy.

There is a sudden gush of air and a wooden bow appears out of nowhere, blocking the strike.