Title : Vengeance Of The Undead ( 2 / ? )

Author : Minky

Pairing : 1 + (2)

Warning : Deathfic, OOC, a pathetic attempt at a horror fic.

Disclaimers : I don’t own the GW characters. The fanfiction is written purely for entertainment only.


Lightning flashed across the sky while another crack of thunder was heard. It started raining after they left the cemetery and it rained for the whole day. Was Heaven mourning for Duo’s death as well? Heero had been sitting in the rocking chair since the afternoon, hugging Duo’s photo frame tightly to his chest.

He felt strange, uncomfortable but most of all, confused. He was unaccustomed to grief. He did felt sad for those who dead in the wars but this grief for Duo’s death was different. It was like thousands of spears stabbing at him, rendering him helpless. His heart was full of self reproach. “If only I hadn’t fight with him, if only I hadn’t hit him, if only…..” It went on and on, surrounding him, tormenting him.

Outside, the rain continued pouring, splattering noisily on the glass panes. A cold draft came through the open window, further chilling the room. Getting up from the chair, Heero walked to the window and was about the draw the curtains when something across the dark street caught his attention. His soldier instinct told him that there was something at that narrow passageway between a white frame house and an appliance store. He narrowed his eyes and stared at the darkness until the shadows began to take on indistinct shapes.

The headlights from a passing car lit the shadows briefly. In an instant, Heero saw a figure stood in the rain with a hood over its head. He couldn’t see the face but he saw an unmistakable long braid hanging down over its shoulder.

“Duo!” he gasped, rooted to the ground for a moment. The figure across the street withdrew into the shadows. Heero quickly ran to the door, out of the apartment and raced across the street. But the dark silhouette was gone. Totally drenched, he stood at that spot where the figure had been, his eyes sweeping around the area, looking for his Duo. But there was nothing, not a soul on that cold, wet street.

“Did I imagine that? Am I hallucinating?” he wondered as he continued to look around but found nothing. Finally, he gave up and dragged his soak self back to the apartment.


He didn’t remember when he actually fell asleep but the distant ringing of the phone brought him out of his troubled slumber. Dragging himself up, he reached for the phone.

“Hello?” his voice sounded hoarse. There was no response from the other side of the line.

“Hello?” he repeated. Again there was no response. Annoyed, Heero was about to hang up the phone when he heard a soft whisper over the receiver.


The Japanese held his breath. That…that sounds like Duo! Before he could gather his bewildered thoughts, the line went dead.

He stared at the phone in his hand for a long while. Could it be possible that…that Duo was still alive? Was that really Duo that he saw last night in the rain? He unconsciously replaced the receiver onto its cradle and the phone rang again. Startled, Heero quickly picked it up.

“He..hello?” he stammered.

“Heero? It’s me Wufei. Bad news, Duo’s body is missing from the grave. The cemetery caretaker found the coffin……hello? Hello, Heero?.....”

The phone dropped from the stand as the Japanese boy sank unconsciously to the ground.


He slowly woke up to bright lights and a pair of worried-looking faces. Blinking his eyes, he tried to focus his vision.

“Heero, how are you feeling? Are you all right?” Quatre asked.

Heero just nodded at him.

“What happened? Wufei said he was talking to you over the phone when he heard a crash. He went over to your place and found you out cold on the floor with a burning fever.”


“Yeah, we heard about it. Wufei said it could be the works of grave robbers. He is checking on it now.”

Heero shook his head vehemently. “No, Duo is not dead.”

Trowa and Quatre looked at him sympathetically.

“Now Heero, we know you are upset about Duo’s death but you have to accept that fact that he…..’

“No, I am telling you Duo is not dead!” Heero almost growled out. “I saw him last night…and I received a call from him this morning.”


Wufei studied the open grave with a deep frown. The center was collapsed into a long depression whose middle had been violently torn open. Chucks of mud and grass were lifted up and strewn all over the ground.

“Look out for anything unusual, check the whole cemetery ground,” Wufei instructed his subordinates. He moved cautiously to the edge of the grave and stared at the empty coffin. This was absolutely outrageous. Duo couldn’t have gotten out of the grave himself. Damn! What was he thinking? The boy was dead and people don’t come back from the dead.

The Chinese Preventers officer had just had an argument with the Japanese boy an hour ago at the hospital. Heero insisted that he saw the dead boy.

“You must be feeling delirious. You saw with your own eyes during the burial. Duo is already dead, six feet underground. You couldn’t have seen him last night or received his phone call this morning,” an exasperated Wufei almost yelled out.

“Then how do you explain the open grave and the disappearance of his body?”

“I told you, it could be grave robbers. People will do anything for money.”

“But the only valuable on Duo is his wedding ring. Why would the grave robbers took such trouble to move the whole body?”

Wufei threw up his hands in annoyance. “I don’t know but I intend to find out. But don’t expect me to believe such an absurd tale of the dead coming back to haunt those alive, there’s no such thing. And I thought you are the most rational person among us.”

As he was leaving the hospital, Wufei turned to Trowa and Quatre.

“Keep an eye on him. If he goes on like that, I’d have to commit him to an institution.”