Bathroom Monologue: Ghouls, Ghouls!

The man wrapped his brown fingers around the bars of his cell. He slammed his body into them until they rattled.

"Ghouls, ghouls!” he yelled at them. “The dead are rising from shallow graves in an army that honors to debt made in life. High-born and casteless shamble together across the islands, eating the flesh of any who stray too close. They devour bird, buck and man alike. Any who survive their feast fall sick and rise like them. It is a plague of carrion that has already wiped out three of the islands. They do not stop, feel pain or drown. They walk off the edge of the island, plunging into the sea, not a single body floating. For days it seems like it is over, but they walk along the basin. Soon it is as though the ocean is afraid and alive with gooseflesh, a thousand scalps rising along the shoreline. They come dressed as their loved ones buried them, not listening to reason or threat.”

The man drew himself up, pinkshot eyes imploring at his jailers.

“If we don't stop them they'll finish the archipelago and come here!"

"That's fucking ridiculous," said the succubus. She returned the cell keys to her belt. "I eat dead souls. If there was a roving buffet I'd have gotten an invite."

She turned to the wraith deputy, who had no rational objections. They linked arms and walked out the cell block, leaving the man to rant about his ‘living dead.’