Last Living Souls

There was something about churches that reminded him vaguely of a tomb.

With this one in particular, it probably had something to do with the interior. Cold, gray stone looped above him in graceful arcs, towering to heights that he couldn't help but find impressive. Morning sunlight filtered in through stained glass windows, the light still not quite able to choke away the cobwebs and shadows in the corners. Glittering chandeliers hung from the ceiling, unable to take away from the sort of strange brilliance that came from the gleaming cross at the front of the sanctuary.

Perhaps it was this, or perhaps it was the air of the church itself. He wasn't entirely sure what to call it, really. There was a sense of melancholy to the place, an air of things forgotten, of remembered funerals and the sobs of those broken at the alter. At the same time, however, there was also an air of joy, a sense of freedom that perhaps represented peace. Regardless of what it was, it was interesting at least.

He has no idea what had compelled him to come. All he knew was he'd been on one of his many late night walks when he'd stumbled upon the church. He'd passed the building before, but that night something had compelled him to step up to the doors. Amazingly, said doors had been open, and thus he found himself wandering inside and glancing around before settling into the very last pew in the back.  It was here that he stayed, simply thinking, and before he knew it time had passed him by.  The undead man hadn't even realized it was Sunday, though he supposed Hanna had probably mentioned the day of the week somewhere along the line. Regardless, the day of the week hit him as he spotted people filtering in through the double doors. He had considered leaving at that point, but then an old lady had put a hand on his shoulder and warmly welcomed him to stay, and he hadn't had the heart to argue. It was fairly early and he was certain he had a few hours before Hanna woke up, and thus he'd ended up staying for the service.

So there he sat, the farthest corner of the very back pew, shoulders hunched forward as he sat with his gloved hands clasped in his lap. Orange eyes stared unblinkingly forward as the words from the pulpit washed over him, whispers of things that sounded almost familiar echoing through the sanctuary. He sat, he listened and he mused. Lost in his own thoughts and the echoing words, he felt a strange sense of peace.

He should have known it wouldn't last.

"Hey, Abraham! There you are!"

Hanna's voice was characteristically loud in spite of the setting, and the undead man glanced over to spot the energetic twenty-four year old standing at the end of the pew with his typical grin. He blinked in surprise, then moved as if to rise, only to be stopped as Hanna shook his head and quickly walked over to flop down next to him. "I didn't know you were religious, seeing how you're... you know," The redhead's voice dropped in pitch as he cupped a hand over his mouth, his expression somewhat nervous.

He nearly laughed at Hanna's quieter tone. The redhead lacked tact regarding just about anything else, but when it came to his status as a zombie Hanna was surprisingly discreet. Granted, he was only discreet by Hanna standards, which really wasn't discreet at all, but the undead man appreciated the concern. "I can't really say whether I am. Perhaps I was once, but I'm not sure what effect dying and coming back has on all that. However, I do find religion interesting, so I suppose that's why I'm here," He said as he glanced around, absently noting that the less-than-subtle stares he'd been receiving were growing in number thanks to his friend. "I'm more surprised to see you here, actually. I thought you wouldn't be up for a few hours."

"Oh... haa, yeah, it's true. Normally I'd be up a lot later, but this place has free brunch every second Sunday of the month," Hanna admitted as he reached up to scratch the back of his head.

"Ah," He couldn't help but crack a small smile at that as he looked back to the front of the church. Of course it would be the offer of free pancakes and scrambled eggs that got Hanna out of bed. "So I take it you're not really religious then?" He asked after a moment of silence. Ordinarily he wouldn't have been so talkative, but he was admittedly curious.

"Hm?" The paranormal investigator blinked, then frowned thoughtfully as he leaned back in the pew. "I dunno. I mean... er... I came with friends and family on Christmas and Easter sometimes, that was about it. I dunno if I'd consider myself really religious or anything. Then again... I've seen stuff like ghosts and vampires and all sorts of crazy awesome things!" Hanna let out a small laugh as he shook his head, fiddling absently with the pamphlet he'd been handed when he walked through the door.  "I have to figure if stuff like that is possible... who am I to say God's not around either, y'know?" His gaze was somewhat distant as he spoke, words tinged with a sort of hope that left his companion wondering just what it was that Hanna was hoping for.

He watched the redhead for a moment, then nodded. "I suppose I can agree with that," The undead man said, then looked back to the front. They sat in silence for a bit, simply listening to the sermon for a bit. The quiet didn't last, however, as Hanna ended up speaking again.

"Man, people would be kinda weirded out to see us here, now that I think about it!" He snickered, small feet kicking out excitedly as he spoke. "I mean, we hang out with vampires and werewolves on a regular basis, I use magic, and you're kind of dead."

The last part was said a bit too loudly, drawing a number of disapproving stares, as well as a few less-than subtle exclamations ("Mommy, what's that boy talking about? And  that man is green!") from several of the children. Hanna's undead friend very nearly laughed again, though he held himself in check. "Hanna, we're in a church," He reminded tactfully, meeting the glare of stuffy-looking man with an expression that he hoped seemed apologetic.

"Oh, sorry!" Hanna flashed a guilty grin, shoulders hunching as he squirmed in his seat and brought his voice down into what had to be the loudest "whisper" his companion had ever heard.

Again the two sat in silence for a moment, just listening to the sermon. After another minute or so, Hanna spoke up.

"Say, Amadeus," The redhead began, his blue eyes thoughtful as he gazed up at the crucifix at the alter. "This might sound kind of dumb, but... I dunno, you don't think everyone here thinks we're damned or anything, do you? I mean, it sounds ridiculous, but I use magic and I turned Connie into a vampire and you're... and... well, yeah. I mean, I guess that's pretty stupid, but once when I went to this other place when I was a kid some lady said... er... yeah, you know." He fidgeted in his seat, brow furrowing slightly. Again there was that strange weight there, a sort of sadness that looked wrong on the redhead's face. What concerned him more was the question Hanna didn't ask, though it was so very clear it was there.

'...Do you think I'm damned?'

Orange eyes went to Hanna's and the undead man frowned as he considered the question. Admittedly he'd found himself pondering this himself from time to time. He had no idea how he'd come into his state of undeath, and this did leave him pondering over the state of his soul, if he even could be considered to have one. Now, though, he looked to Hanna and he considered the words.

"...No. Absolutely not." He finally said after a moment, his tone of voice leaving no room for argument. Hanna looked to him with a quirked eyebrow and the zombie just shook his head.

He'd spent ten years pondering over things like life and his state of undeath. He had plenty of thoughts on the subject, on the concept of things like a soul and the afterlife, of what it all meant. He had thoughts and theories and probably so many philosophical thoughts that others would have teased him for it, but it was rare that he had any definitive answers. When it came to Hanna, however, he just knew.

A world where a person like Hanna Falk Cross could ever be considered damned just couldn't exist.

The redhead blinked at him for a moment, then grinned. "Yeah, you're probably right. I can't see you as the damned type anyway, you're way too cool for hell!" He declared brightly, all semblance of that strange distance gone from his voice and expression. His undead friend quirked a brow at this, which only made Hanna grin wider as he tapped his chin thoughtfully. "As for everyone else, hm... I dunno. Would any of us be considered damned? Huh... Connie's way too nice of a guy, and Toni's practically an angel! An angel who is very angry sometimes, but that's not the point! Veser... hm... well, he's a good kid... huh... what do you think? Do you think any of us are done for?" Blue eyes met orange for a moment.

He cocked his head to the side as he considered this, folding his arms across his chest. Then he gave a small smirk. "Maybe Worth."

Hanna burst out laughing at this. "Ahaha! Oh man that's so true! He--"

There was a chorus of "shush!" as what seemed to be the entire church congregation turned and glared daggers at them. Hanna immediately ducked down in his seat, giggling like mad, whereas his zombie friend beside him actually almost cringed. The two sat in silence for a bit, then Hanna's head poked up again. "You're so right, I bet he's got a devil with a handbasket assigned just for him, ahaha!" The paranormal investigator snickered, still failing miserably at whispering.

And so the sermon continued, with Hanna constantly interjecting with random comments as his undead friend tried to focus on what was actually being preached and listen at the same time. Of course they drew far more stares than was necessary and several more hushes, but that was to be expected. There was also the fact that he found by the end of the sermon all he could really remember was something about how Paul was an asshole (actually he was pretty sure Hanna had said that) but that didn't really matter either. What did matter was that they still had the life that they were given, whether or not it was actually given and whether or not it was given a second time, and they were going to use it to the fullest.

And if others wanted to stare and damn them... well, he didn't really mind at all.