Death is Overrated

[deaths_heritor]

[The first thing she does when she wakes up is to check for attached limbs.
Yes.  Four of them.  All there.
The next thing is to listen to some of the calls that have been coming in.  Though she's missed most of the warnings, it's not difficult to tell that things have become progressively worse in her absence.  That, and the men in white were

Comments

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[decadenzas]

Ours was the last house to receive him, though he's thoroughly incapacitated now and we've decided it best to keep him moving.

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[deaths_heritor]

Was anyone close by when he arrived? Did they hear what he said?

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[decadenzas]

I'm afraid we didn't discover him till early this morning.

[a small, thoughtful pause] There wasn't a trace of blood anywhere outside of the area we found him at, however, which leads me to believe that he was unconscious upon arrival.

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[deaths_heritor]

[Susan clicks her tongue and mutters an epithet. This is unusual, for her.]

Damn.

He couldn't have waited another second to finish his sentence, really?

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[decadenzas]

The people here do seem to have miserable timing. Were you the house to have him before ours, then?

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[deaths_heritor]

. . .

May I come to speak to you in person?

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[decadenzas]

Ah, certainly. 767 Bunker Street. Are you fine travelling with the hazmats about?

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[deaths_heritor]

Unless they're empowered on the scale of the Smiths or Grady, I'm not concerned. I'll be there soon.

[There is a knock about ten minutes later.]

[decadenzas]

[and a tiny chiropteran answers it shortly after, motioning her inside after sparing a quick glance to the hazmats ambling about across the street.]

The one I talked to over the phone, yes?

[deaths_heritor]

Yes. My name is Susan Sto Helit.

[Not particularly caring how Charles looked, Susan enters the house with a nod and quickly closes the door behind her.]

I'll be quick. I'm here to ask where you sent him after his appearance here.

[decadenzas]

[a nod at the introduction] Mine is Charles.

We dropped him off with England at 1670 Nelson Street. I can't say whether or not he's still there, though. We urged him to pass on the body quickly and we're attempting to clue in as many people as possible so more houses will be open for passing.

[deaths_heritor]

. . . You've observed that he doesn't teleport when he's unconscious, then? It's a sensible plan.

[Susan pauses for a few moments before continuing.]

I must find him again. Wherever he is . . . he mustn't be allowed to die or to be lost before he finishes that sentence.

[decadenzas]

It's the best we can do for now.

[for a moment he looks like he'll leave it at that, but there's no harm in asking about this sentence she keeps mentioning.] What exactly had he been saying before he left your house?

[deaths_heritor]

. . .

"The man I speak of is named Zemekis. To me, he is a mystery as well. But I will tell you everything that I've learned over the course of my life . . .

Zemekis is -- "

[decadenzas]

...A grand time for him to leave off sentences, indeed.

This isn't the first time I've heard that name.

[deaths_heritor]

He would've told me everything if that poor excuse for a policeman hadn't come then. What a bother.

I've heard it, as well. From that one girl who had so much to say a few days ago, and a few others around town. Something to do with Westport.