Dilbo looked at the demon through sunken eyes. "Are you sure this will work?" he said. "I have to point out that this stings to buggery."
"I told you," said the demon. "I've never tried to extend the life of a zombie before. Usually I'm more likely to stomp up and down on their heads. However, be that as it may, if anything's going to preserve your sight it's this." He picked up the jar of formaldehyde and gave it a shake, dislodging the bubbles from the cloudy eyeballs inside. Dilbo gripped the table with all nine digits.
"Whoa!" he said. "Careful, man. That gave me a dizzy spell."
"It did?" Jasfoup estimated the distance between the zombie and his eyes to be a good ten feet. "That's very interesting. I had no idea you had a psychic connection to your body parts."
"Oh yeah." Dilbo nodded. "While they still exist, I do. I could feel my finger for ages, right up to the point where Mr. Whitlow incinerated it. I could feel it pulling, you know? Wanting me to come and find it. It's the same with my eyes. Even blindfolded I could still find them. They want to be back in my skull."
"Interesting," Jasfoup said again. "Were you Christian in your former... er... life?"
Dilbo shrugged, several pieces of skin dropping from his tatterdemalion face. He really shouldn't have bothered having a bath. He wouldn't have done if his ex-girlfriend hadn't intimated he smelled. Jenny had broken up with him when he became an ex-Dilbo. "My parents were Anglican," he said. "Does that count?"
"Not really." Jasfoup filled a syringe with a viscous brown fluid and advanced. "I wondered for a moment if zombies were God's way of saving people for the Rapture."
Dilbo sucked his lip to think, though not so hard that it might come off. "I dunno," he said, as Jasfoup injected the first decilitre of preservative into his arm. "It would explain a lot about the Jehovah's Witnesses."