*clang* *clang*
"Hmmm... annoying..."
Zombie, surrounded by complete darkness, clapped his hands together – but instead of producing, well, a clapping sound – and instead produced the noise that could only be described as metal clashing against metal.
That certainly wasn't how he remembered them.
"Zombie...! Zombie!"
"Oh...?"
Then, at first shy then much more cheerful and happy – a very familiar voice called out to him and the next thing he felt was someone's warm and alive body pressing itself against his cold dead flesh.
And since he did not feel immediately repulsed by the contact, there could be only one answer for the question about that soft someone's identity.
"Cranberry? Why does it feel like I'm not wearing any shirt? And what's with this..."
*clang* *clang*
"...kinky stuff...? Seriously, if I will take this stuff off and I'm in some BDSM basement – I'm going to be pissed."
