Ghost Knight Ch. 01

"Hey, nice job!" chimed Brett, coming down the mound.

"Yeah, but what took you so long?" barked the girl. "I was getting cornered and you had to wait from me to tell you to do something before you even get up off the ground! What's wrong with you? I could've been ripped apart there, and you were just—"

"Frankie!" Brett held up the torn shreds of the hospital gown Elisa had been wearing just a moment ago. "I think she's new. She probably just didn't know what she was supposed to do." Elisa looked down at her armored body that had ripped the hospital gown off—and suddenly the armor vanished in a swirl of black mist. Elisa immediately wrapped her arms around herself, and snatched the torn gown from Brett and hugged it over her front.

"Oh," said the girl. "Sorry." As she said this, her own armor also vanished, leaving her dressed in casual street clothes. "Well, welcome aboard, I guess." She extended a hand to be shaken. "My name's Francesca. You can call me Frankie."

Elisa didn't accept her hand. "What the hell's going on?"

"I think we'd better calm her down a bit," said Brett. "She seems a little panicked."

"Look, Brett," sighed Frankie, "why don't you work on filling her in, I've got places to be tonight."

"What, you got a date or something?"

"Something like that."

"Frankie, you're not—"

"I know what the rules are, Brett, and I'm not breaking any of them, thank you very much. We're still allowed to have a good time now and then, which is what you called me away from in the middle of is all. Now if you'll excuse me, please." With that she turned and started walking away—and black mist and silver light began swirling around her, and then she was gone.

Brett sighed. "I'm beginning to understand why she never got laid when she was alive."

Elisa whirled her head to him. "What do you mean, when she was alive?"

Brett looked at her quizzically. "Okay, you are aware that you're dead, right?"

Elisa stared at him in bewilderment.

"Okay, you were not aware of that. Well do you at least have a name?"

"E-Elisa," she said hesitantly. "And can you please tell me what's going on? How am I up and moving around if I'm dead, who are you, and what the hell were those things just now?"

He took hold of her by the shoulders and looked at her with his warm, friendly eyes. "Okay, okay, calm down. In answer to the questions you just asked, you're a Ghost Knight, I'm Brett, and those were Hellhounds. And by the way, you did a fine job of killing it on your first night of demon-fighting."

"You're gonna have to do a lot better than that!" Elisa demanded. "I'm still trying to remember who I am... and what's a Ghost Knight?"

"Actually what you're still trying to remember is who you were. Your life's over; you're a Ghost Knight now, an undead slayer of demons. As am I. And Frankie."

Elisa tried hard to process this. "Well... well how did this happen? If I'm dead, then how'd I get brought back, and, and why?"

Brett sighed and let go of her shoulders. "I'm afraid I can't tell you that part, because I'm not the one who brought you back."

"No, that's not good enough!" Elisa shouted. "You can't just expect me to... fight demons!I don't even know who I am!"

No sooner had those words left her mouth than the black mist and silver lights began swirling around her once more. "Oh no, not again!" The junkyard faded from view, along with Brett... and when it cleared, Elisa found herself now standing in a cemetery. She looked around to see if anyone was here now, quickly finding herself alone—which made her a bit more comfortable with the fact that she was still naked, holding just the torn scraps of a hospital gown over her front. She began walking around, trying to find something that would indicate why she had been brought here—

She stopped in front of one headstone where the dirt appeared relatively fresh, as she observed the epitaph: "Elisa Saunders. 1988-2006. Her journey cut short, she walks now with God." There was a bouquet of flowers laid in front of it, along with a photograph, which she was surprised to find she could see clearly in the gloom of early morning. It was a face she recognized much better than the one she'd seen in the mirror at the hospital. It was a similar face in the photograph, though slightly less attractive. The girl in the photo wore glasses and had a little bit of acne, and was not nearly as movie-star slim as the girl she saw in the mirror before. She wasn't unattractive, but she wouldn't turn that many heads in a crowded room. This was a face she knew very well, from having seen it in mirrors countless times.

This was her grave.

Elisa knelt in front of the headstone, running her fingers over the engraved letters of her name. If she really was brought back from the dead, why did she wake up in an alley instead of clawing her way out of here? And why did she look different now than she had in life? She picked up the photograph—and she could remember it being taken. It was a school photograph from junior year, and she remembered being one of the many masses of students in her class who hated the way their photos turned out. Her mother, of course, had absolutely adored it.

As she held that photo in her hand, she found many of her memories returning to her. She could remember names of friends, and boys she'd dated, and trips she took with her family. She could remember her friends consoling her after her failed tryout for the cheerleading squad, and the relief she felt when she saw her score on the SAT, and the night of the last Winter Formal when she dropped her bracelet over the side of the boat. She had a life.

And it was gone now. She let the photograph drop, and felt a tear fall from her eye.

A set of fingers gently began caressing the front of her neck from behind, moving around under her jaw. The touch was electrifying, and she relaxed back into the hand of the figure behind her, already somehow knowing who it was. "Now you know," came the voice of the red-eyed stranger. "Your mortal body lies in the ground beneath you. I manifested your spirit into a new physical form for you. You are flesh once more, but no longer human."

As he said this, his hand slowly slid down from her neck to the curve of her breast. Her breath quivered, and her eyes shut as she leaned back against him. His other hand placed itself upon her waist. Almost involuntarily, she relaxed her hold of the torn hospital gown that covered her front, allowing his hand to slip under it. And when his fingertips touched her nipple, she gasped sharply.

"I have given you new flesh," he said. "And with it you are able to feel sensations such as this."

The hand he had holding her waist began moving as he tenderly stroked her nipple with the other. And slowly, it dawned on her as to where he was moving it to. It also dawned on her that she had never been touched there... but the further down his hand moved, the less she found she cared. His hands were exciting her immeasurably, and whatever he was doing to her, she wanted more of it. Finally his fingers made contact with her sacred place, and her back arched and she squealed with delight. Her arms came up and around behind her and curled around his neck. He continued to rub her in two places, and she writhed about in his grasp.

"You were taken from the mortal realm before you were ready," he whispered into her ear. "You had not yet known such pleasures as this. I have given you a second chance. You are now free to enjoy all the pleasures the mortal world has to offer."

She listened to what he said, and found she was grateful for what this man had done for her—especially now that she knew he was likely to drive her to an orgasm at any second. Then suddenly his hands moved away, and she whimpered in disappointment. She looked back over her shoulder at him, seeing him staring at her with those mysterious red eyes.

"However," he said, "in exchange for what I have given you, you must perform the duties and responsibilities of a Ghost Knight. You must battle the demons that have entered our world from the Dark Realm, so that the living may live in peace. You are free to decline, in which case I shall release your spirit from the mortal plane and you shall pass on in peace; or you may choose to stay in this world as a Ghost Knight, with all the pleasures and pains such entails. The choice is yours."

Elisa hesitated only a second to respond. She wasn't ready to have been taken from the world when she was, and she still wasn't ready to leave it. Besides, at the moment she desperately wanted him to resume what he had been doing. "I'll stay."

The second those words had passed her lips, than those lips were met by the tender touch of his. He took hold of her shoulder with one hand and her waist with the other and gently began to push, bending her down onto her hands and knees. She received a new rush of excitement as she realized what was about to happen, and closed her eyes in preparation for the touch of...it. This would be the first time she had ever been penetrated, and it was after she was already dead, and it was happening on top of her own grave. How ironic.

And then she felt it, teasing her outer lips, before it began sliding in. It was so... big! It felt like he was filling her entire being—and she wanted him to. She wanted all of him. He then began sliding back out, and suddenly pounded back in again. Slowly, steadily, his pace quickened, and his approach was driving her wild. In the blinding heat of this moment, nothing that had happened to her mattered. She felt more alive right now than she ever had in life.

With all the stimulation he'd given her beforehand, it didn't take her long to reach a powerful orgasm that sent her body into convulsive shivers. And still he continued to pound into her. It wasn't until he'd driven her to a second, ever stronger climax that she felt his seed released into her. With that done, she collapsed onto the ground in a heap, panting for breath. If her heart could beat, it probably would have been pounding. She looked up, seeing the red-eyed, silver-haired mystery man standing over her in his flowing black robes.

She finally asked the inevitable question: "Who are you?"

"I am a necromancer," he said. "My name is Jiro."

To Be Continued...