FicWad

Crackitus had been watching Blanche in an equally mesmerized and horrified haze as she bustled about the warehouse. With a broom in one hand, a wet rag in another and an eye on JR, she was the very image of the Victorian woman at her best. Multitasking, energetic, elegant and above all: fearsome. "Force of nature," he whispered to himself as he watched her scale an old and rusted machine only to balance at the top on one foot as she reached for the farthest pane in the window she was cleaning. The next window over, she had JR cleaning and chipping away at the filth. But even with this help, Crackitus knew she would need more. And so he supplied more help.

Blanche climbed down from the rusty old hunk of metal and gears and briefly leaned against it as she struggled to regain her balance. "Uh, Blanche," she heard a nervous voice behind her, "I'd like you to meet someone." Curious, she turned immediately to greet the new comer. "OH!"

"It's alright, Blanche. This is Zedidiah. Say 'hello', Zedidiah!"

"Grahnnnerllemennornnnn..."

"Crackitus... What's wrong with him?"

"Nothing! He's a perfectly healthy and normal domesticated zombie!"

"A ZOMBIE?"

"Now, Blanche, no need to get excited..."

"He's a zombie!"

"But he's trained!"

"To do what? Eat me?"

"No, to help with the housework. He's a butler!"

"Indeed!" She leaned back against the old machine behind her, not caring if rust got all over her clothes. With a shaky hand, she brushed the few strands of blonde hair away from her sweaty brow. Zedidiah was no easy sight for eyes and the suit and fez he wore did little to preserve a semblance of humanity in his appearance. He looked more dead than Brennan's corpse! He is Brendon, she thought, he is no longer Brennan. Just another thing to get used, along with the new city, messy warehouse, involvement with the supernatural, being unbetrothed... oh! And a zombie butler.

With a deep sigh of surrender she grabbed a nearby broom and shoved it into Crackitus' hands. "Have him sweep the warehouse, I'm going to go take a nap." She headed to the newly sectioned off side of the the warehouse. With a shocking supply of tarps and some ingenuity, she and JR had erected a series of walls to give some semblance of rooms. She walked to one of these makeshift rooms and pushed back the flap. With a huff of exhaustion she sat on her bed and unceremoniously plopped her body across it. "Ladies should not plop," she muttered into her pillow before she fell asleep.

-

Brendon pushed open the large wooden door at the front of the warehouse only to stop just inside the threshold. "Wow..." He stared in wonder at the place, it looked nothing like the dusty dump it was this morning. The whole place was filled with more light shining through the now clean windows, the floors were clear of debris and layers of dust, smaller pieces of old machinery had been pushed to the side and covered with sheets, new work benches had been laid out, and most curious of all was the canvas stalls that had been erected along the west wall.

He stood for a moment, regarding the changes in the warehouse. At first he was confused, how could so much get done in one day? No one was around to educate him but he was soon given two answers. One was a small glass jar holding a bundle of bright flowers that was set on a nearby table. He smiled at the thought of Blanche so speedily making this place into a home. The next answer he received was a not so pleasant a sight.

"Grennelbeghhnerghhhlnnn..."

Brendon turned in surprise to see the bloated and yellow form of Zedidiah holding a broom. The two silently regarded each other, one with an easy calm the other with undecided anxiety. Finally Brendon asked, "Who are you?" In reply the zombie offered a small card from one of his many pockets. It read:

Good day, Mr. (Ms.) _____,
Please do not be alarmed! My name is Zedidiah and I am a domesticated zombie under the ownership of the League of STEAM. I am here to serve and will not harm you. If I seem displaced, please return me to the below address.
Sincerely,
Zedidiah Esq.

Brendon perused the card before placing it in one of his vest's pockets. He had seen stranger things in his young life; occupational hazard if you will. "Nice to meet you! I am Brendon. Is it alright if I call you Zed?" He held out his hand to the undead butler. Zed, as he was now called, simply stared back at the young man.

Brendon awkwardly dropped his hand and remembered what he had been previously wondering. "Where is everyone?"

"Berrghelmmmenomennalemm...."

"Ah. Well... Um... Do you know where Blanche is?" Wordlessly, Zed pointed to the tent-like cluster. "Ah! Thank you!" At first, Brendon couldn't hear anything coming from the rooms but as he approached his sharp hearing could make out the shallow, even breathing of someone asleep.

Cautiously poking his head through the flap of one room he found a rustic but comfortably furnished room with a young woman fast asleep on a cot, another jar of flowers resting on a wooden crate nearby. Throughout the room he saw makeshift furniture made out of similar crates causing him to make a mental note to at least get a proper bed and table for her.

He watched her sleep for a moment before he pulled a blanket over her. She looked so exhausted, her blond curls were chaotic and several dust bunnies found a home in her hair. She hadn't even bother to take off her apron.

He stood in her room for but a moment more before he left to find some food and rest before Clarence would visit to talk about the recent murders.



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