The Revenant's Kitchen: A Sorrowful Supper

The dim light of the kitchen cast eerie shadows, flickering over the surface of the worn wooden table. On the counter, a single, wilted zucchini lay, its skin now the color of dried blood, its seeds scattered like seeds of doom. It was a night that would change everything, a night where the boundaries between the living and the dead blurred, and love took on a monstrous form.

Eliza, the once vibrant domestic girlfriend, now a zombie, stood at the stove, her movements slow and deliberate. The kitchen was her domain, the place where she once prepared meals with joy and now, with a sorrowful heart. Today's dinner was for her, a post-dead supper, a final farewell to her mortal life, and a bittersweet beginning to her afterlife.

Next to her, Alex, the man she once loved, sat at the table, his face pale, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and longing. The sound of the clock ticking in the corner seemed to mock them, counting down the seconds until the end.

"I thought you would have preferred to eat elsewhere," Alex said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Eliza turned to face him, her eyes reflecting the flickering light. "This is where I belong, Alex. In this kitchen, by your side, even in death."

Alex reached across the table and gently took her hand. "But what if it's not enough? What if I can't accept you as you are?"

Eliza sighed, a sound that seemed to come from a place deep within her. "Then perhaps you never truly loved me, Alex. Love is about accepting the whole person, even when they are a creature of the night."

Alex's eyes softened. "I do love you, Eliza. But this... this is something else entirely."

Eliza nodded, her gaze never leaving his. "I know. And yet, I believe in love, Alex. In its power to transform, to transcend even the darkest of worlds."

As she spoke, Eliza began to prepare the meal, her movements almost ritualistic. She chopped the zucchini into perfect cubes, arranging them neatly on a plate, garnishing them with herbs and spices that seemed to bring a life to the once lifeless vegetable.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Alex asked, his voice trembling.

Eliza turned back to him, her expression serene. "It's my farewell to you, Alex. A final act of love. I want you to remember me, not as a zombie, but as the woman I once was, the woman I still am."

Alex watched as she set the plate in front of him, the light reflecting off the silverware. "You're beautiful, Eliza. Even now."

Eliza smiled, a ghost of a smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Thank you, Alex. For loving me."

With a trembling hand, Alex picked up his fork. "Let's eat," he said, his voice filled with emotion.

As they began to eat, the air in the room seemed to grow heavy with the weight of their shared secret. Each bite was a struggle, a reminder of the world they had left behind and the one they now inhabited.

When the meal was finished, Eliza pushed her chair back from the table. "It's time for me to go, Alex. To become the zombie you feared, the one you now love."

Alex stood, his hand reaching out to her. "Stay with me, Eliza. I'll protect you."

Eliza shook her head, her eyes brimming with tears. "You can't protect me, Alex. This is my path, and I must walk it alone."

With a final, lingering look, Alex released her hand. "Then go, Eliza. But know this: I will always love you, no matter what form you take."

Eliza nodded, her heart heavy with love and sorrow. She turned and walked to the door, her shadow stretching across the floor like a specter. With a final glance over her shoulder, she disappeared into the darkness.

Alex sat alone at the table, the remains of the meal untouched. The clock continued to tick, a relentless reminder of the time they had shared and the time that was to come. The kitchen, once a place of warmth and laughter, now held a silent, solemn presence, a testament to the enduring power of love, even in the face of the undead.

In the silence that followed, Alex looked at the zucchini on the counter, now reduced to a pile of discarded flesh. He knew that his life would never be the same, that the world had changed, and that love, in all its forms, would forever be a part of him.

And so, in the kitchen of the living and the dead, a sorrowful supper was served, a reminder that love can survive even the darkest of nights.