Fan Fiction ❯ Vengeance Sweet ❯ Revival ( Chapter 1 )

Death….. It comes to us all. This is a truth that no one can deny, whether we like it or not. And I definitely don't like admitting I'm dead.

 

Yes, I'm dead. I died a year ago. My life was stolen from me. I was only eighteen, and so naïve. I thought I was ten feet tall and bullet proof. How wrong I was…. How tragic my death. I thought I had my entire life to live.

 

But death swept it all away. A cruel twist of fate, wrought by a single bullet. I was shot once, in the heart. And then again, and again. I would have died from the first, but they enjoyed inflicting pain.

 

I suppose I was a normal teenager. My appearance was a little offsetting, what with my long red hair. It was mid-thigh length, when I wore it down. I had silky smooth skin, almost flawless. My face was prominent, seemingly aristocratic. My favorite color was a deep crimson, the color of human blood. I suppose my most defining trait was my not being `straight'. I had faced so much hate because of that, but I stuck to what made me happy, and I didn't give a shit about what other people said about me. They could kiss my white ass. And yes, I am aware of just how rude and crass I sound.

 

But I will not rest...I can't. I want revenge…to say good-bye to those whom I loved so dearly. So much that I was unable to accomplish, because some twisted fucks decided I was a perfect target...and my lover as well.

 

I sit alone in a dark room in the middle of the night, thinking, more so brooding. I used to come here a lot, to be with friends. Especially my dearest friend, William Branch. He meant a lot to me… But that intensified when I died, I now feel like I let him down, like I disappointed him. I am not a good friend… Am I?

 

As I sit alone within the dark, unable to find the peace I should feel, I feel the air chill. It becomes so very cold… like the air is made of liquid nitrogen vapor. A presence makes itself known to me, and I know what it is to my very core. The dark shadow that is the dark angel of Death.

 

“Death…so you come to deliver me to the underworld?” I am dismally rude; I've great respect for this stealer of life, yet that does not mean I have to show it, especially if it comes to rob me of all I have left. Death only moves about the room.

 

“What business would you have with the likes of me? Just let me brood here.”

 

“You are alone… and so very heartbroken. You feel so much pain, pain that echoes still from life, a life that ended in tragedy…pain that will never be eased unless you are given life again…” Death has a dark voice, as ancient as the power it is itself.

 

Death wears a black flowing cloak, and hides its face. I'm not too keen on looking under the hood, either. I think there will be more than I ever wanted to see under there. “I can give you life again…life to ease your pain. Life to earn your peace, life to gather your revenge… and to avenge your dear Derrek Warren.” Death pauses. “Poor souls…. So sweet in nature and in love… To be torn apart like that… No creature deserves such agony…”

 

Horrible memories filter into my head. They play like a morbid movie, one that never truly ceases. “Agony… What would you know of the agony of love torn apart, of love ended in demise?” My anger shakes the room.

 

“I can give you life…will you take it? I offer this because I cannot stand to see you this way…unable to rest, unable to move on, all because of the heartbreak and misery and sorrow and guilt that you bear. I offer the chance to settle it, and at last have peace.”

 

“I…I… Yes!!! Give it to me!!!” I am suddenly on the brink of tears. “Let avenge myself and my love!!! Let me be able to see him on the other side… to feel his embrace once more!!!!”

 

“Then it shall be so.” Everything become a dark swirling mass of grays and blacks, whiling and churning all around me. I feel sudden warmth pulsating through me, and then the cold of my own corpse. I scream in panic and pain. I am trapped… in my own coffin. The pain is unbelievable as my flesh regenerates, the decay reversing, reforming flesh and muscle and tissue. I claw at my coffin lid, screaming in the stale, cold air, reeking of rotten remains. I can't breathe, I can't feel the air, and I can't live like this. I push with all my power against the lid, and I hear a splintering noise. The ground above my grave must be heaving, as I push up the coffin lid. Finally, it is open, and I break the surface, screaming still, as it rains. I choke on rain and mud as I crawl through the soggy earth. My entire body hurts, a deep, guttural, wrenching, throbbing pain that there is no escape from. It subsides after a seeming eternity. I have my body back, I realize….as though it were as close to life as it could become……

 

When my pain stops, it is still there, but only a dull ache. I move my head around, looking everywhere, and my vision comes to reside on my tombstone.

 

 

Born: March 21, 1986 - Died March 21, 2004

 

 

My memories come roaring back, all of them... including how I died. I am soon swamped in things that would rather be forgotten.

 

But, one person is the main focus. My lover… My sweet lover… My Derrek Warren.

 

I try to sort out my memories as I wander through the cemetery. It's huge, but I know it well. Its name is Swan's Grace Memorial Gardens, and I had a friend buried here before. I guess I never thought that I myself would be buried here. I stumble out the main gates, in torn and muddy clothes. Swans held by angels adorn the main gates, and I am surprised they are open. By this time, my pain has completely faded away, and I feel only the cold of my own corpse.

 

 

 

 

Alone and afraid, I wander toward what used to be my home. It is far, and thankfully it is around midnight when I set out to find it. Today will be the day I died… and found. I don't want to be around if my family visits my grave.

 

It is around three that I come to my house. I see no one is home; that it looks like the house has been neglected for a long time. The house itself is not large, and I look around the outside. It has had new siding put up, as well as new roofing. It's small, and I know there are only six rooms. There's a living room, a dining room with a bathroom to the side, my room -or what used to be- my sister's room, and then the attic.

 

Upon inspecting the front door, I see a note taped up.

 

 

Gone to Florida for medical reasons, will return on March 23

 

 

So they left to Florida… I guess it isn't my concern why. I did die, after all. I move to the side of the house and wash off all of the dirt I can from my clothes.

 

I suppose no one will mind if I head to a place where I once found solace in my loneliness. It takes me a surprisingly short time, I hitch hike. I make it there in an hour.

 

“Happy deathday to me…” I sing morbidly. “Happy deathday to me, happy deathday to me, happy death day dear Kristopher, Happy deathday to me.” I laugh at my morbid joke.

 

My place of solace is a museum. And I loved to go here, to be with friends. There's a place where they gathered clothes intended for the homeless and as gifts for people who worked there… I think I am in need of a change of wardrobe. Desperately.

 

I break into the museum, through a side door that was easy to jimmy open. There is no alarm; this door was disconnected because of faulty wiring. As I walk, I manage to avoid most of the security cameras. None of them could see my face anyway. I enter the room with all the clothes, and I sort through them. I am quite surprised that I find clothes to suit me here and now. What with my pale skin, I could pass as a Goth, provided I have the right attire. I see it as no wonder that I have pale skin; it has been a year since I last saw the sun, not that I liked it in the first place.

 

I find some fishnets, and I laugh due to the fact that they are in a reserve for the homeless. I find a black `wife-beater' shirt, and I put that on under the fishnet shirt, which is also black with long sleeves and a leather cuff. It's an awesome outfit I'm putting together. After piddling through some more clothes, I find a pair of extremely baggy black pants. I look through some jewelry in a box, and I find a studded leather collar. I pick up my clothes, and carry them outside with me.

 

I notice voices. They sound familiar, and I peek around a corner.

 

The voices belong to William Branch, and his boyfriend, Shane Mahoney. In life, Will was my dearest friend, aside from Derrek. I watch them carefully, and I spot an engagement ring on Will's finger. At this my heart sinks, like my heart had been broken. I sink down, around the corner, to sit on my ass, in a state of misery.

 

“Why…. Why was he killed? What did he do to deserve this???”

 

I lean around the corner again, Will is sobbing, on his knees. Shane tries to comfort him, by placing his arms around him. Will's sniffles can still be heard, and it is all I can do to not go tearing to them, to face them, to tell them I am alive again. I suppose if my heart were capable of beating, it would have been racing a mile a minute. A single tear falls down my cheek.

 

“Will, come on… We need to get home.”

 

I slump forward as Shane guides Will to what I assume is Will's car. They walk past me, but something calls Will to look back. I try to sneak a glance at him, but he notices that I'm looking. Something makes him stare at me. Shane nudges him, trying to make him move.

 

“You…seem familiar…” Will stares at me, trying to look at my face. The bangs of my red hair hang low, prohibiting him from seeing my eyes, also making it impossible for him to recognize me. His dark eyes search my body, eyeing it, and I think he wouldn't mind having it, except for the fact that I am so creepy. He was always easy to read.

 

“Have we met?” I shrug in response. “Perhaps. I …could not help but over hear you. I apologize for not making myself known.”

 

“You knew Kris as well?” I nod. “So, maybe we did meet.” Will kneels, trying to get a better look at my face. The darkness all but hides the dirt on my body. I run my hand through my hair, and then shrug. “You… are Will? And Shane? Kris told me a lot about you two.”

 

“He did?” Will's hope sparkles. “Tell me about what he said!!!” Will is excited, I can tell. “Let me hear it!!”

 

“Let me get my car, and we can go somewhere and talk, okay?” I smile weakly, as so not to arouse any suspicions. “Sure. We'll be waiting.” Will replies.

 

I head out of sight, making sure they aren't following. I reach a nice red convertible, and I break the leathery top, tearing it with my abnormally sharp nails. They've always been sharp, but not this sharp. I suppose it is a side effect from coming back from the dead.

 

I look around, before hot-wiring the car. I put my hand at my throat absent mindedly, to play with a necklace that should be there. But, it was taken from me when I was kidnapped, as was all my jewelry. I knew the face that had taken them; I will get them back from that bastard.

 

I drive the car around, and I roll the window down. “Sorry I took so long, my car didn't want to start, and it was a short hike away. Where do you guys want to go?”

 

“Panache.” Shane replies. Perhaps it is just my imagination, but he seems to be slightly miffed at me. Perhaps he wanted to get laid tonight or something. No, impossible, that isn't what he's thinking. Shane's not like that. I am so mean… I am such an ass.

 

“I know where that is. I'll meet you there.” The two say good-bye and I feel that I am missing something. I dismiss it as an over active imagination.

 

 

 

I follow Will and Shane in my “new” car, and I wonder just what they are talking about. Will and Shane manage to get to Panache quickly, leaving me stuck in traffic. I guess I can't complain, after all, this isn't even my car. When I finally pull into the Panache parking lot, I spot Will and Shane oogling each other and dreamy eyed. I sigh, this makes me feel somewhat sad, and I am not sure why.

 

I come into the building, and I spot their hands intertwined. They see me making my way to them, and I see them separate their hands. They were always like that, even back then when I was alive.

 

Kind of makes me feel nostalgic.

 

I sit, and am hit by the first question, from Will. “So, what's your name?”

 

“Kris, and yes, I know of the ironic similarity.”

 

Shane eyes me in my fishnets, he'd never seen me wear something like them when I was alive, or I'd be worried that he might recognize me. Shane's blonde, highlighted hair seems to gleam in the soft light of the café, though; it is rather shaggy, as always.

 

Will's trying to see into my eyes, but I am purposely not letting him. I wonder what goes through his mind.

 

“I didn't see you at the funeral.”

 

“I was away on a business trip.” My lie makes me feel bad, but I can't come out and tell the truth.

 

Shane puts his arm around Will, his hand dangling down Will's side. I spot a matching engagement ring on Shane's finger.

 

“Congratulations.”

 

“Mn? What?” I see they are confused, until Will sees the ring in plain sight. “Oh… Thanks.” Shane huffs as Will blushes. “Did Kris ever tell you he had a crush on me?” Shane takes a deep breath, seemingly displeased with the conversation. I nod in response. “ Yes, he did. Kris told me a lot about the both of you. I think he didn't just like you.” I say to Will. “He liked you as well, Shane.” I close my eyes and sigh. “I believe he had something he wanted to give you, but was not able, due unforeseen circumstances.” I smile sadly, because I know it to be true. It was a gift to him that I had that I was never able to give to him. I so wish I could now.

 

“What was it?? Do you know?”

 

“Yes… I have it at his house. I know exactly where it was… though, I am not sure if it is still there. Nor do I wish to bother with it.”

 

“Oh. I see.” Will looks like he is about to cry. I change the subject. “I've been away for the past year. What's happened? I've been out of the world, so to speak, I've been over in … Sudan” I hesitate, wondering if I should elaborate. “I like helping those less fortunate.”

 

“No. After Kris died, I was depressed. Shane comforted me, and we soon were engaged.”

 

“I guess something positive came from Kris' death.”

 

“He was -is- a great guy. He had issues, but he was still very sweet, and good-natured. I guess if Shane and I had ever broken up, I would have wanted him to give me a hug.”

 

Shane smiles, a tell tale sign he is thinking of me. “Yeah, I remember how he was. So unsure of himself, unless he was stoked on some prescription drug, and he was harking on something about humans being pathetic. He was always depressed or preoccupied as well. He told me what he thought of me one time, and I must say, it's nice to know someone so brutally honest. Better than a blatant liar, I suppose. He as good as said he wanted me in bed.”

 

“Did he?” I smile, remembering. “I bet that was fun hearing.”

 

“Yeah. It was something else, having him grab my ass as he told me. We were joking around, it was fun.”

 

Will seems quiet. I try to look in his face. “Something on the mind?” Will does not meet my eyes. “Hey…” He starts. He has both of our attention, but I am certain I know why he hesitates. “Can…I… Would you two like to…”

 

I sigh. “Spit it out, bub. You want to know if we want to visit his grave.” Will looks at me as if he's seen a ghost. “You remind me a lot of Kris… I don't know why... I do know you act a lot like him. It's weird.”

 

I shrug, trying to pass his comments off. “Eh, I did look a lot like him.”

 

“Oh… I see. He was a sweet guy… A treasured friend.”

 

I smile, “I know he'd be happy to hear that.”

 

 

 

 

We are soon at the cemetery, and I admit, I feel a little creeped out. We are going to my grave, after all. I park my car a few rows down, and get out of the car, waking down to Will's. I know they didn't see me pulling in.

 

“Hey… do you mind leading the way? It's been a long time since I was last here.” I say. “It's embarrassing, but I can't remember where it is.”

 

“Mn. Yeah, sure.” Will says, taking the lead. I follow, making no noises. Will looks behind him to make sure I am still there.

 

“How often do you come here? I wouldn't think you'd come here too often, though you know your way around pretty well.”

 

“You… talk like Kris.” Will says, before looking at me funny. I make my move. “I guess it's just having him so close… his memory affecting me…”

 

“I guess.” Will leads the way to my grave. I wonder, what will he do upon discovering my empty coffin? I smile cruelly in anticipation. We are silent as we walk to my grave, my melancholy companions deep in thought, presumably about me. I admit, I'm slightly scared.

 

We come to the grave, the dirt up heaved, the lid open, and the once shiny satin dingy and rotting. I leap into a tree over shadowing the grave; happy my strength has drastically improved. My friends stare into the open hole, flabbergasted. “What the hell?!” Shock sets in, and they only stare, speechless, into what should be my final resting place.

 

“So it seems I can't even follow my own advice.”

 

Will responds, his mind echoing the words he speaks, his voice tiny, and almost inaudible. “What advice?” he asks, but doesn't even look, he still stares into the hole. I leap silently into a towering oak tree.

 

“It does not do to dwell on the past, nor does it do to dwell on dreams. I believe I once told you this… When I was alive, of course.”

 

Will whirls in recognition of my words, but I am seemingly gone. The cemetery mausoleum and clock tower chime the hour five.

 

“Kris?” Will starts. Shane looks like he is going to wet himself… or cry. Whichever. I really didn't care at the moment. “Will…. I'm scared… Let's go, please…. That guy wasn't normal… and it couldn't be Kris… Kris died. No one can come back from the dead.” Shane sounds as if he's trying to coax himself that this was true.

 

Will and Shane leave, and I stalk them to the car. I remain out of sight, not wanting to ruin this new mood. It felt very dramatic to me, and I liked drama. In life I was a proverbial drama queen. Will breaks down and starts crying, and I leave, seeing Shane leaning over, tears in his eyes as well.

 

 

Hours pass, and I find myself at a burger joint. I scavenge around, picking up three quarters and a five-dollar bill. I admit, I was stared at as I walked around the store, my weird fashion statement attracting more than enough attention. I eat a burger, some fries, and a soda, though I am not hungry. It feels like lead in my stomach.

 

I wonder, should I make further contact with Will and Shane? My heart so longs to do so… and I can't resist it, my heart is too pained to see the face of a guy whom I cared for so dearly, other than my own boyfriend.

 

I think I will give Will some things he knew I had worn; I just need to sneak into my house. My car is almost out of gas though, I am unsure if it will make the trip. As I drive, I am perplexed by thought of emotions I feel when it comes to Will. I was never sure why I felt such things toward him, or why I felt such passion when I was with Derrek. I guess such things are irrelevant now…It's all ancient history…….

 

 

My car runs out of gas as expected, but it is only a two block walk to my house. As I step onto the porch, I hear barking. The dogs were awake, trying to ward me off. But I stop, and speak. “Kody bear… Benny Wenny…” I smile at the names I once called them.

 

The dogs stop barking, and begin to scratch at the door, wanting my attention. I am flattered; the dogs remember me. I pry the door open, somebody's been feeding them, and they're in good health. “Hi there, it's been awhile, hasn't it?” I pet the dogs, and they sniff me like crazy, and try to snuggle up into my lap. And these aren't some little itty-bitty lap dogs, these are big oversized lap dogs, or so they think. “I'm sorry, but I have to go.” I sigh, and walk to my room. There are things I wish to give Will, things that will let him know I am alive again.

 

Well, alive as somebody with issues with having a pulse can be….

 

As I reach what used to be my bedroom door, I pause, scared. What if all my stuff isn't there anymore? Where would it be? In a fearful rush, as well as a need to get it over with, I open the door. My stuff remains untouched, and I am not sure how I feel about that. It's kind of creepy; to see all my stuff covered in a year's worth of dust. My bedroom walls, once covered in pristine pictures that I had once drawn, were now yellowed with age and nicotine stains from smokers in my family. My huge wall mirror now stood neglected, and covered in dust and grime. A desk I'd had since I was eleven, with all my gothic makeup collecting dust.

 

“Now this isn't right…” I say, and collect my makeup. From what I could tell, my mother wouldn't notice. I dump it all into a bag, sitting on the floor, and then collect all of my gothic clothes, and dump them in the bag as well.

 

But, then I see it. My little black box. It houses all of my prized jewelry. I grab it, and open it. Inside are some really good drawings, an earring, bracelets, and some other stuff. “I guess it's time I let him know I'm back…I think he'll like these.”

 

I sigh, and smile. “Vengeance can wait. After all, I have the rest of eternity to collect it.” I smile, not the first time since my reawakening from death. Though, it is the first one full on malicious intent.

 

“This should be one hell of a shock to his system.” I laugh.

 

 

As I exit what used to be my home, in a flurry of emotion, I spot a telephone booth, but it strikes me as strange that it wasn't there when I was alive. But, there is no need for me to use it, I know where Will lives.

 

As I approach Will's home, I am taut between my feelings and my regrets. It is beyond any mortal's comprehension how I can be this way. And it's beyond mine as well. All in all, my trip is not a pleasant one.

 

Finally, I approach Will's home. I ring the doorbell, and a minute later, a pleasant looking woman answers. “Hello?”

 

“Hi. Um, I have some stuff for Will; will you give them to him?”

 

“Can I ask what this is about?” I shake my head. “No. It's a rather private matter. I'm sorry.” The woman nods. “Well, alright. I'll give it to him. Good-bye.”

 

“Good-bye.” I walk away, to steal some gothic clothing for our meeting later that night. I had stuck a note in with the objects I was going to give Will. I know he can't stay away. My note reads:

 

Will,

The objects held within this box should be recognizable, after all, they did once belong to me. I want you to have them now, as I am sorry I died. I held no choice in the matter, and I sincerely hope you'll forgive me. I wish to meet you alone. To see you, to tell you about my death. You deserve to know, being my dearest friend. I'll be waiting at the clock tower in the cemetery I was buried. I will not hide.

 

 

 

 

 

Later, that night, as I wanted, will shows up at the cemetery clock tower. The clock tower is actually a part of the mausoleum, separated only by a narrow stone passage. The clock tower was origionally created to commemorate the dead, though the gong it makes is oud enough to wake the dead. It is five minutes until midnight, and my black outfit conceals me from sight. It consists of a black cloak, and a black outfit similar to a priestess' attire. My dark mood fits in quite well. I hear a car, and seconds later a rather small car comes into view. The clock tower chimes midnight as Will approaches. “Kris…? Are you here?” I make no moves; I remain hidden in plain sight by the night. “I… got the box…..” He sighs, before snorting. “This is bullshit. Why am I even here?”

 

“I'm here. You think I wouldn't show up??” I step into the moonlight, my face still hidden by the shadow of my hooded cloak.

 

“Why are you messing with me like this?”

 

I cock my head. “You think I am not Kristopher?”

 

“HE'S DEAD!”

 

“Yes… and back. I was given the chance to come back. Allow me to prove that I am who I am.” I lift my cloak, to show my face. “Will. It's been a long time.” Will's eyes widen with shock and fear. “You're not him!!!!”

 

I toss my cloak away, showing off my scars and closed wounds. He falls to his knees. “Why…..why are you back? Are you mad at me? Jealous?”

 

I kneel beside him, looking into his brown eyes. His black hair is slightly messy, not like him at all. I smile sweetly, in sadness. “A little. But then, I always was just a little jealous. I'm mad, furious, that I was murdered. But never at you.”

 

“What?” I laugh. “You're happy now. Your happiness meant a lot to me in life, and it still does in death.”

 

He hiccups. “How… how horrid was your death?”

 

A dark fury possesses me. “It was beyond horrid. I can't even begin to explain the fear I had. Nor the anguish as I watched Derrek die.”

 

“Derrek? He was with you?”

 

I sigh, my anger leaving, replaced by a year of sorrow and anguish. “You remember. He picked me up from the museum. We were accosted after that... We were tortured for three days, before Derrek succumbed to hunger, thirst, and his wounds.” Tears, it seems, come to my eyes. “I couldn't even hold him as he died. And they let his body sit there, for at least another two days, until they decided to get rid of me. I was shot once through the heart, and, then, just for fun, I was shot until they ran out of ammo.”

 

“Such a horrible way to die…” Will states. I begin to cry. “I'm sorry I left the world… I let you down. I'm sorry I hurt you like that...” I am shocked when Will puts his arms around me. “It's alright. I never blamed you.” In pity for myself, as well as disgust for my sentimentality, I pull away. “I feel like a little kid in your arms.” I wipe my eyes. “In life, I had longed for such a thing. It's kind of funny….”

 

I stand, dressing, and sigh. “It was good to see you, and say good-bye.” I turn away. “Farewell.”

 

“Wait! Where will you go? Why did you come back?”

 

“My life was stolen from me. As was Derrek's from him. Why do you think Death gave me the chance to come back?”

 

Will breathes the word. “Vengeance….” I turn to him.

 

“You got it, honey. I'm sorry; I can't be a part of your life. You're alive, and I am not. As such, I truly don't belong here anymore. I no longer hold a place in this world.”

 

Behind me, I hear Will moving. “You're wrong. You do have a place. I can't stop you from walking away, and I won't stop you from killing whoever took your life away. I'd probably do the same things… But please, stay with me at my house. My parents are gone for a week, and…..” Will pauses. “It's better than being alone.”

 

I am bitter now. I swear, I have more mood swings than a pregnant woman… “Convince me. Convince me why I should. Convince me why it's better… convince me why I should have connections with the living. You have until I leave the cemetery.”

 

“Kris! Don't do this!!”

 

“Like I said. Convince me.”

 

“I don't want you to be alone. I have no idea what's going through your head, I probably never will. But, truly, I don't want you to be alone.”

 

I look back into his face. “Is that why?” I say, coldly. “Is that sufficient reason?”

 

“DAMNIT! YOU'RE MY FUCKING FRIEND! DO YOU KNOW THE PAIN I WENT THROUGH, LOSING YOU? YOU WANT TO PUT ME THROUGH THAT AGAIN?” I am surprised when he grabs me: shakes me.

 

I look at him, watching him. He sighs. “Look, Kris, I have no idea what's going through your head, and I never will. You're back, alone and all but friendless. What do you mean by, `is that sufficient'??”

 

I sigh. “I am sorry. I wasn't… I was being selfish and heartless. Yes, if you want, I will stay with you for a week. No longer.”

 

Will looks like the very earth he stood on had been blessed. “I knew you were easy. Now, I'll take you home with me.”

 

“EASY?! I AIN'T NO MUTHER FUCKING TRAMP!!!”

 

“It was a joke.”

 

“Oh…..” I smile weakly. I never did have much of a sense of humor. “Sorry…..heh heh.”

 

“Come on… let's go home.”