Dino Boy: Not Like the Cemetery

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 Rex could feel the death in the dirt. 

It wasn’t cemetery death, cemetery death was neat and ordered. Bones that belonged to the same bodies were buried together in chosen plots, in their own special places, arranged the same way they’d been arranged in life. 

The bones here weren’t like that, they hadn't been cared for. They 'd been jumbled up and mixed together and then rattled carelessly down into the ground like trash. And it wasn't just the bones here. He had always been able to feel the bones, to feel the last ruins of living bodies under the soil. He'd always been able to feel that. The blood was new. And dark. 

There was anger in the blood, wrongness, a rage that made it cling. And it bubbled. He could feel it coming up from the earth, screaming through his veins, boiling through his blood and into his brain in a raging, roiling blackness roaring injustice-

He gasped as his knees hit the dirt. 

He breathed in in deep, heaving gulps and pushed himself to his feet. The Necromancer had been here, and hopefully not long ago. 

Rex could poke around a little more later and see if he could figure out when exactly whatever had happened happened. But not now. He didn't want to be around the blood now.

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