Blake walks through the chilly autumn night as his filthy bare feet rub against the cold pavement while he limps. His feet are decorated in dirt and blood and behind him is a trail of bloody footprints. The feet themselves are pale just like the rest of his body.

All of his skin is paper white with the exception of beneath his eyes which are purple and very puffy. And the eyes themselves are sickly looking and seem lifeless. The only thing that indicates any sign of consciousness in them are his bright blue pupils which were once noted by many as the most attractive part of his body.

Blake's face, along with the rest of his body, is very dead looking. Aside from the pale skin and dead eyes, the thing that makes him seem the most dead is his blank expression. Everything about his face is emotionless. His mouth closed and isn't frowning, smiling, or scowling. It is just there.

Aside from these slight deformities, his face is clearly supposed to be that of a seventeen year old, albeit a very sickly one.

His two ears are mostly intact. The right one is fine, the left one, however, was snagged on something sharp a while back and so now part of the side of it was torn off. This has made hearing with it very difficult obviously. The mutilated ear is now covered in dried up blood and it to like the mouth is there just to be there.

The upper part of his face is covered in black hair which seeps down in front of his eyes. The eyes are still visible though, due to his bangs being thin. Dirt and blood lies all over his hair which reeks of corpses.

On Blake's body are his filthy clothes. He is shirtless with only a raggedy blazer on the top and black skinny jeans on the bottom. His arms hang by his side.

Blake stands at the average height of 6ft. His BMI was once normal with him weighing close to 2001bs but due to recent events he has lost a considerable amount of weight and so he is now 90lbs.

He being terminally underweight is clearly visible, with his arms, legs, and fingers bony and his rib cage visible most people would come to the conclusion that he is dying. They would be half right.

At Blake's side is his dog, Max or at least what is left of him, Max, like his master is very deformed, more so than Blake actually. All that is left of him is a deformed dog skeleton. Only, it is transparent and not a solid.

So there walk the two undead loners, with no one to confide in but themselves, cursed to roam the earth with no one but the other.

The two who are now in a neighborhood, stop at a curb.

"Why are we stopping?" Max asks.

Blake, ignoring him, sits down.

"Aw… is Blakey, wakey a bit tired?" Max taunts him, getting up onto the grass which touches the curb. He sits down right beside Blake.

Blake curls his legs up to the rest of his body. He stares out into the distance, at the big full moon.

"Why are you ignoring me?" Max asks, confused.

"Stupid mutt," Blake murmurs, not looking away from the moon.

"Well," Max says, hurt. He then lays his head down and also stares at the moon.

"What do you think of destiny?" Blake suddenly asks after a long period of silence.

"I'm a dog, I wouldn't know," Max answers, dryly.

"I don't either," Blake says, completely disregarding Max's response, "But sometimes I wonder. The irony of life is amusing…"

"Whatever…" Max mutters.

"I guess when I said we would be best friends forever, it was somehow true," Blake declares, still not looking away from the moon.

Before they both died… actually long before. Back when Blake was four, his mom brought him to the mall with her. It was his birthday and it was time to get him his present. There was only one thing he wanted that year and the one thing that he wanted more than anything.

That one thing of course was a dog. Or a puppy as Blake used to put it. His mom brought him into the pound and walked over to one of the employees to receive help in picking out one. But before the employee could even begin, Blake noticed a puppy sitting by himself in his cage.

Blake walked over to the cage and watched the puppy as he scratched himself. It was love at first sight from then on out.

"Blake," Max says, causing him to break his stare.

"What is it, Max?" he asks.

"What are we going to do?" Max asks.

"What we have to," Blake simply answers.

"Have to do what? I don't understand. Why did you awaken me?" Max questions, sitting up.

"Because I can't do this on my own," Blake answers, ignoring the first part of his question.

"Do what?" Max says, annoyed, standing up.

"I don't have time to explain. You're a dog so be one and follow me," Blake says, dodging the question even more.

"I'm a dog so I must follow you, as in without question? I find that to be very insulting, especially since I'm dead because I did that in the first place. You owe me big time for what happened. So you can start making it up to me by giving me answers. If you don't then I'll leave. I don't have to be here," Max retorts, angrily, snarling at his undead master.

Blake sighs and prepares to answer but before he can loud sobbing is heard. The crying interrupts Blake before he can speak. And so he prepares to talk again but he is once more cut off by even louder crying.

"Shit…" Blake mutters before standing up and limping over towards a house where the crying is apparently coming from.

Max stands there for a few seconds after Blake left. He considers on what he should do. "Oh what the hell?" the undead dog sighs, before trotting behind his owner.

Max quickly catches up with Blake who has now reached the middle of the front lawn. Blake stops and listens some more for where the crying is coming from. Blake pinpoints the direction and aims his good ear towards it.

From there he discovers that the crying is coming from the house's fence so he limps over to it. When he reaches the fence he presses his right ear against it and hears for the crying. With the lack of hearing in one ear, his right ear's ability has been enhanced so he can tell the crying is not on the other side of the fence.

Keeping, his ear against the wall, Blake slides down to the left of the fence. He reaches its corner and moves down to the side, ear still on fence. At the side of the fence and right in front of him is a young boy, back turned to him, kneeling on the ground; head buried in hands, visibly still weeping.

Beside the boy is a girl, whose hands are placed on his shoulder in a comforting manner. Although the girl's back is also turned to Blake, she is clearly older, standing at, at least two feet taller than the boy.

Perhaps she is his sister, Blake thinks to himself.

The girl has pale blond hair and wears a brown jacket with a red scarf around her neck which blows in the cold wind.

Blake pulls away from the fence and turns to Max who stands beside him.

"So what are we going to do now? You do realize that we're going to give this person a heart attack right?" Max whispers.

Blake motions for him to follow him back to the corner of the fence. They move back to the front of the fence and stand at the edge of the corner. They peer over it and watch the girl and boy.