Viktor huffed as he threw the last bale of hay onto the pile with the others. Even since he got there, his brittle bones were popping and creaking, his skin tearing at the seams, and his face dry. Now, he felt like his whole body was going to come apart.

When he died, he didn’t feel or see anything until he was brought back to life against his will. In reality, he would’ve liked to stay in limbo for eternity, but he appreciated Franky's amateur efforts to make him live again. After all, the only person either of them had was each other. Without Viktor, Franky was without a mother, without a father, without brothers or sisters or aunts or uncles or cousins. If he felt the same way about the rest of Viktor’s family, they wouldn’t be so alone--but it seemed Franky felt really passionate about Viktor, so much as to electrocute his body into sentience again, defying the laws of life and physics just to hold him again.

Years ago, Viktor had died in a house fire along with his mother and siblings. His father had been out of the picture by then, never allowed to visit his children again--Viktor had never met him. But Franky had been in contact with a man called Care, who, well, cared for him, as his father was a living dead man who breathed but didn’t move. When Care heard the news, and met Viktor when he was already a Frankenstein-style zombified monster, he started to care for him as well. He gave him a job at his farm, cleaned him up and fixed his rotting body when it broke. He had been so kind as to give him opportunities he wouldn’t be able to get anywhere else, and here Viktor was, breathing with no lungs and injured in every place when all he had to do was one thing.

Care was standing behind him, a hat shielding his brown eyes from the rising sun. He was smiling at Viktor, but Viktor couldn’t tell what he was so happy about. He should have been annoyed at Viktor’s constant struggle to do mundane tasks, but, to Viktor’s surprise, he just wasn’t. Maybe he was just faking it to avoid hurting his feelings.

“Good job, buddy,” he said, confidently putting his hands on his hips. “How about you get inside and cool down? Or you can give the cats some breakfast.”

“I’ll feed the cats!” Viktor said, frantic not to let Care down another time. He skipped into the house to mix a can of tuna with milk, to feed the barn cats Care kept to kill the mice. He liked the cats--they were friendly and fun to pet and play with, but he worried Care would be upset with him if he goofed around too long…even though Viktor knew Care never got upset, let alone with him around.

He went out to the barn and set the bowl in front of the cats, who were impatiently meowing at him. “Okay, okay,” he said, as the cats pawed at his hands. They struggled for space against their friends who tried to get as much as they could. Viktor sat and watched them, until they quickly finished their meal, and went back to him yelling for more. He took a piece of hay from the barn floor and held it above their heads, and they jumped up to try and catch it. He smiled, but then sighed and held his head in his hand. As much as he wanted a break, even if all he did was hold the kitties for a little while, he couldn’t disappoint Care, who was standing behind, watching.

He startled Viktor for a moment with his voice, which was deep and rich, yet he had a hard time controlling his volume. “Are you doing okay?” he asked. Viktor quickly stood, dusting off his ripped jeans.

“Yeah, I’m fine! Just…watching the cats. What should I do next?” he asked. Care’s expression faltered.

“Well, I think you should go into the house and rest for a little while,” he said. “Maybe make sure you’re not…you know, breaking or anything.”

“I’m not! I…I just looked. Franky fixed me up yesterday.”

“I know, but you worked really hard. You should at least sit down in the air conditioning. You--”

“What, do I smell?” Viktor smelled the rotting flesh of his arm, which, unsurprisingly, smelled like death and despair. He almost gagged at it, until he realized he smelled like that all the time, and had already become blind to it. Although, Care probably hadn’t. “Should I wash myself off? Or put on different clothes? Or--”

“No! No, Viktor, you’re fine. All I want you to do is take a break. You deserve it.”

Care placed a hand on Viktor’s back and gently guided him out of the barn. Viktor wanted to object, but if Care wanted it so badly, then he knew he should just go. If he wasn’t performing as well, or if Care was getting sick of his corpse scent, then he had to fix it.