Headless Ghouls

Ever since Jon was a young boy he had heard stories of the headless ghouls that frequented the graves. It was the consummate indignity, to be severed from your body - and be so ultimately disfigured, that at the time of the holy rising these souls would have no chance at resurrection. “Oh dear God, I pray this not be so”, he spoke out loud as these fears of this escalated.

The heat was rising from the cracked mud road. Lizards were sunning their scales, and soon every dry branch seemed to grow legs, as the scalding sun made its way to his mind and his eyes blurred with dehydration. Only a few more miles to go, he thought hopefully, as the weight of his parcels increased intolerably.

Jon considered seriously about tossing the second head away, just to ease the ache in his arm - but no, there was a payment waiting that he much needed, for the retrieval and delivery of this Anglish runaway. He drew a deep breath, and straightened the pole across his shoulders from which the baskets swung from, and diligently kept going.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series