She tossed and turned, unsettled where she lay. A pulling sensation kept her from her peaceful dreams. Aggrivated, she fought it, burying her face into her pillow in an attempt to go back to sleep. Pulse. Pulse. Pulse. It pulled and tugged at her. Impossible to ignore. Frustrated she let go. She let the pulse pull her. Pull her up from her resting place, up through the gritty soil into the cold dark of the night. Standing ragged and unsteady she wavered, blinking the dirt from her eyelashes. Some of the dirt stuck to the surface of her eye, and she lifted a finger to try and brush it away, the absense of tears just made it burn more. Frustration welled up in her chest. She just wanted to sleep. The pulse was stronger now, forcing her body to turn to where it was the strongest. Calling her, pulling at her, waking an unholy hunger in her belly and mouth that just made her more and more angry. She should be sleeping. Tired she stumbled forward to the beacon, thoughts of her hands around someone's throat feeling more and more comfortable in her mind as she shuffled forward. Her feet were weary and did not want to move. Resigned she closed her eyes and followed the pulse. The very ground seemed to suck at her as if to say "back, back to bed, it's where you belong". ' I would if i could, she thought, raising her voice to say so, but all that came out was a low groan. I'm too tired for this. she thought. A tree root seemed to reach out of nowhere and it tripped her, sending her down towards the embrace of the soil, she ignored the screaming of her limbs at hard slap of it, nestling her cheek against the cold dirt, wishing only to go back to sleep. Pulse. Pulse. Pulse. Damn that beacon. She would gladly rip the lips off her summoner. She cursed the magic that allowed them to disturb her, the thinning barrier between the living and dead that made it seem like some was calling the dead to wake every other day. She crawled forward on her stomach for a bit, filling her dress with the cold earthen smell of sleep. But the pulse demanded, forcing her to struggle to her feet once more. Rising up she offhandedly noticed she'd lost a shoe, it made her shambling, shuffling walk, an uneven hobble. Her lips parted and she bellowed out in anger and frustration at the indecency of it. It fueled her to go faster. Faster towards that invasive pull. Faster, towards the summoner. Her muddled thoughts gathered around violent images all directed at the owner of that annoying voice. As she got closer to where-ever it was they were going, more angry fellows stumbled and shambled along-side her, all moving towards the same goal. Her temper was momentarily eased when she saw that not only did some of the others not have their shoes.. they were lucky if they had their Feet. A feeling much like idignation moved through her, waking her malevelant nature once more. She joined her fellow walkers, as they tried to blink against the light of their callers protective circle. Standing in the center of the circle made of salt and blood, stood a fleshy male who wreaked of things to hunger for. The empty shell of an animal lay in the circle with him, it's lifeblood gathered in a large silver bowl. The male fleshy's hands were stained with that same blood, he held his hands out in the air as he chanted at them, called them flecking little droplets of blood outward. The scent of all that blood, called out the hunger of the woken. They groaned and weaved and pressed against that invisible barrier like a hideous group of mimes. Some pushed and pressed against the circle attempting to break it, to free the goodies inside. The flesh's voice grew louder and more demanding, as he tried to control them, with the promises of blood. The power behind his words, forced them to stand and stare at him with their undead eyes. His voice strained as they fought against him, angry to have been woken from their slumber, his words suddenly squeaking and cracking with the strain of having to chant so furiously, the panic raising in his living eyes at the realization he may have been too ambitious. They all sensed it, and used their anger to push against him, until suddenly there was no pulse, no circle of power, just a rush of broken tired bodies hoping for a bite... She shuffled back to her place, tired but sated. Her belly filled and happy, she would sleep even better, now. At least until the next ambitious fleshy decided to wake them. "I'm a little cranky when I first get up." she thought as she sunk back down into the tattered silk of her bed. Her lips pulled back in a grimace of a smile. " just a little" 847 words Surprisingly, I'm very anti zombie normally. I don't care for movies about zombies, I dislike reading about them generally- probably because they're something that really kind of freaks me out. But when I saw the theme of this contest I was like.. Hm. I was trying to think of ideas to do for the picture portion, when I thought.. well, what is life like, from the zombie's perspective? And that's basically what caused this. :)