Seventeen – Falling, falling, falling
To my knowledge, I was already two levels below ground before being dragged down yet further by the cyclone of black rose petals. Judging by the height of the cavern above the synthetic sun and the ceiling of living cloud that stretched to the edge of the subterranean plains, we were probably a lot further down than my conservative estimate. How far this descent beneath the courtyard would take us, I had no idea.
Perveen had her arms wrapped around my back and waist, left hand wrapped firmly around the nape of my neck; her cheek was nuzzled into the indent between my collarbone and breast whilst her own breasts squashed into my torso and diaphragm, belly pressed flat against my pelvis and her own pubis rested on top of my thigh, adjacent to my groin; both of her legs wrapped around my right thigh. Tightly. The contours of her body married to mine in sleek perfection, the immediate thought being Yin and Yang.
My secondary thought, no doubt brought about by this unprecedented level of physical connection, was altogether more sexual; it involved a 6 and a 9, but I’m not sure how that worked in this afterlife. I wanted it (and my mid-section alerted me that it was primed and ready for action), but from what I’d learned as a human scholar of such things, intimacy between two Undead beings took effect on a totally different plain: either during the infusion of blood and/or in the expansive corridors of the mind, opened up beyond the grave in a manner humans would only find comparable if they had taken, at one time or another, a tab of LSD.
Rather than my abject disappointment at this realisation make my body despondent, it only served to strengthen my ardour. Perveen, with our closeness obviously aware of this fact, looked up at me with a smile that was hard to read. It neither confirmed nor refuted my speculation. I closed my eyes to will this sudden rise in passion away, but only found myself jiggling to make myself more comfortable. Which only compounded the issue.
Our descent was slowing noticeably, so I reasoned that we were almost at journey’s end. I could now make out the cylindrical walls of this tunnel that had otherwise zipped past in a blur, at first glance how I imagined the inside of a well to appear. What I actually saw horrified me.
Reaching to grab us was layer upon layer of hands, clawing at the air at our passing. They were caked, blackened, muddy, and rotten; some even possessed skeletal fingers, protruding from the very earth from just beneath the knuckle of the wrist. One just knew that the Undead bodies they belonged to were attached to the other ends of those writhing appendages, compacted in the earth for centuries, all orifices stuffed and suffocated with cloying earth, claustrophobia thankfully robbing sanity decades hence. How did I pray that they remained that way and suddenly did not find the strength to break free of their vice-like grave? It’s no wonder Perveen had held onto me in such a rapt way, gripping me as not to endanger myself at the hands of the protrusive hands, her eyes tucked into my chest so that she did not have to look at the horrors.
The wall’s circumference seemed to draw in more tightly as our pace slowed and the cracked, split fingernails gouged my ankles, hips and elbows, but we were still travelling too swiftly for them to gain any real purchase. Perveen suddenly let go, her flight stalled as if she had just opened a parachute. I continued to plummet on my own, panic and instinct taking over from logical and reasoned thought. Fortunately, I petrified perfectly vertically, like a fledgling vampire javelin, with arms pinned to my sides, toes pointing immediately down, head looking skywards to see my queen following me directly above.
Centrifugal force kept us as far away from the grasping hands as possible, equidistant from the wall; without warning, the tunnel opened wide again, like the bell of a tuba. Perveen swirled in a mist around me like a worm-dragon constricting its victim, wrapped her arms around me, this time tucking my cheek into her breast. Immediately, I felt safe and warm and wanted to cry, no longer caring if I lived or died…