A twitching corpse lurched forward, its flesh bloated and sloughing from the bones, a five-day-old mess of congealed gore and decay. But it moved, jerkily, and unnaturally under the will of Gegee.
Controlling a body that wasn't hers was no easy feat. Each step was uneven, as if the corpse still resisted its puppeteer. But Gegee was adapting and evolving in the heat of battle, every moment of using the body honing her control.
Her ragged boots slammed into the soil as she staggered into the fray, slipping between Lilian and Sylvia, who were now locked in a savage brawl like two rabid dogs tearing at each other's throats.
"Will you two knock it off?! We're being tricked! Something is—"
Before Gegee could finish, a fist came flying.
Crack.
The punch slammed into the side of her undead face, snapping the neck grotesquely sideways. The corpse collapsed to the ground with a sickening squelch. Lilian stood over her, breathing heavily, rage still brimming in her wide, bloodshot eyes.
