Salem 2099UG "The Zombie's Prayer"

The figure crouched in the shadows underneath the glow of an old neon sign. He bit his lip at the frost, and the cold steady drizzle of rain, bounced off of his back. He pulled the cloak around him tighter and waited. He looked up at the sign which faintly read, "Jesus Saves."

Salem shuttered at this and shook his head. No, he thought, he
doesn't. He simply endures, just like the rest of us. Despite the
discomfort in his legs, he continued to sit perfectly still, only
allowing himself enough movement so as to not constrict his
breathing.

His hands slowly moved to his belt as the silent character that
he had been stalking came into view. There was something odd about this man, and if it was who Salem thought it was, he could be just as
dangerous. If this was the one who had snagged the front page in the
Herald, then Salem would be paying the city of New Haven a favor.
Something that this gothic city never repaid. His eyes narrowed and he
focused his energy on the scene bellow, allowing all the elements to
play out to his advantage, waiting for the right opportunity to
strike.

The man staggered through the alley as if he were drunk. He
acted as if it was a constant struggle to simply hold up his limbs. As
he got ever closer to the body of the young woman lying in the alley
Salem prepared himself. The man finally knocked over a garbage can,
alerting the woman of his presence. But as she looked up to see what
was going on he grabbed her. But to no avail, she did not smell the
alcohol on his breath that would have explained his odd behavior. But
what she did she was terrifying for the man looked more like a zombie
than someone from the living. And it was this that caught Salem's
attention. As the zombie began to choke the woman she tried to cry out, but he only squeezed harder. Salem had seen enough.

The zombie didn't see Salem leap from the rooftop, while he
grasped his cloak in a mad free-fall toward the hard, unforgiving
ground. As he approached the surface of the alley floor, Salem shifted
his weight to land on his side. Upon landing he rolled to his right,
while he hand flew to his belt at a blinding speed. The zombie only had time to look before Salem managed to propel a small disk with uncanny aim, knocking out the only light that allowed one to see in the alley. The zombie was caught unaware in the dark as Salem launched a full frontal attack. He leaped forward at the zombie, kicking him in the face, therefore knocking him away from the woman. Salem only spared a second to utter a warning to the poor girl.

"Run."

Having at least a small bit of common sense, or fear, she
managed to comply as she fled the scene leaving the zombie at Salem's
mercy. Salem slowly kneeled before the recovering creature, watching
his every movement figuring out his best course of action in taking his
opponent down. After all, he wanted to have something to research when
he was done. Something about this creature's behavior made Salem doubt
that he was a true member of the undead. He reached around his back and pulled out the Staff. He kneeled there, holding the Staff, as he waited for the creature's next move.

Finally, the creature pounced at Salem. He stood still waiting
for the precise moment to attack. He had learned that combat, as
anything else, was a concise science. At the best possible moment
Salem, brought the Staff upward in a powerful arc, knocking the air from the creature's lungs. When the zombie landed on his back Salem leaped upon him and held the Staff across his throat, pinning him down on the ground until the creature lost consciousness.

As the zombie battled the temptation to slip into the void, he
looked up at Salem and whispered, "Help me."

Salem pressed harder collapsing his throat, not allowing him one
brief hint of oxygen. Finally, the creature laid still. Salem sat
there listening. He knew it was still alive, for he could here it's
heart beat from where he sat. One of the advantages of being a devil's
son, he thought. Then he pulled out the Staff, and began to move it in
the familiar circular pattern, producing a doorway of light and energy
which would lead him into another dimension from which he could enter
his apartment, his asylum. As he stood up to enter, he leaned down and
scooped the zombie up over his shoulder and slowly disappeared into the
nothingness of the cold New Haven night. No one was around to tell whatthey had saw, no one was foolish enough to mess with New Haven's would be hero. At least not tonight. . .