The first thing Ray was aware of was darkness. That might not sound like much, but he hadn't been aware of anything a moment ago. So it was certainly a change. The next thing he was aware of was that he was lying on stone, with stone walls on either side of him. He'd bump into them if he tried to move even a little. And there was a stone wall above him.
That explained the darkness, but he wasn't thinking hard about that right now. He wasn't thinking about much of anything, except that he was trapped in a tiny dark space, and he needed to get out.
He shoved at the walls, kicked with his feet, slammed his palms against the ceiling. The ceiling was the only thing that gave, even a little, from his efforts. He slapped his palms against it again, pushed with all his might. He didn't even feel a strain on his muscles, so distracted by desperation. The lid rattled, slivers of light came through, but he couldn't open it enough to get it off.
Finally, he shifted himself so he could use both his hands and feet. His legs were stronger than his arms, and with some effort, the lid finally tipped back, and he heard it crash somewhere above his head.
He sat up. He was in a crypt.
Well. That explained some things.
Ray climbed out.
At least he hadn't been cremated. Or even buried. Then he would've had to try digging his way out of the earth, coming out covered in dirt and bugs.
He frowned, and looked down at himself. He was in his best suit, one he'd only worn once. He didn't have any dirt on him, or any injuries that he could see. On the other hand, his skin was very pale, in a way that didn't look healthy. And now that he was paying attention, he couldn't hear or feel a heartbeat. He tried putting his hand to his chest. Still nothing. He let his chest rise and fall, but it didn't seem to do anything. Just a body part he could move, like lifting his arms up and down. He tried not breathing for a while. Nothing. No strain. No change. And when was the last time he'd blinked?
. . .Ah. Maybe the reason he hadn't felt his muscles strain wasn't about the stress.
Ray decided to stride out, before someone else came in. He'd probably give them a heart attack.
He looked ahead. He was in a cemetery, of course. The sky was blue, a few clouds dotting it. Trees had orange, red, and brown leaves. They crunched under his feet. There was a breeze in the air. It felt a bit muffled, didn't make him cold like it should've. But he could smell the cool autumn air.
He considered his next move. Should he go to his family? Would they want to see him?
He'd heard about bodies rising from the grave. The most obvious example were zombies, mindless creatures that rouse from the dead, and shambled around with no goal except to make more zombies.
There was also the less common case of people who came back from the dead with some sort of mind and thoughts, usually through a ritual or something. They could speak, and solve puzzles, and do all the other things they'd been able to do when they were alive. But something was still off about them. They were different than when they were alive. Usually in an unsettling or outright evil way.
Ray stopped again, and looked down at himself. He still felt like himself. He cared about his younger brother. He cared about his parents too, but that was dulled by being an underachiever in their eyes. He liked to play card games with his friends. He didn't like his job, but he didn't hate it. It was worth the pay, and that was more than some people could say. He didn't have much he was truly passionate about, but he didn't go out of his way to be a heartless dick either.
But he'd only just climbed out of his grave. Would he know if he wasn't acting like himself? Would anyone? He'd certainly taken dying and being reanimated better than most people would. Probably. It didn't happen to most people, so hard to say for sure.
Ray lowered his hands, and looked around. He wasn't ready to go back to his family yet. Not when they might consider him a monster, and not when he wasn't confident enough to refute it.
***
His condo hadn't been sold yet. It was surprisingly easy to come and just, ask for it back.
Just standing inside was getting old though. His stuff had been taken out, his family probably still going through it. The place felt as dead as him. He headed out. There was a bar nearby.
***
So, new discovery. Eating and drinking might be a bad idea. He could taste what he put into his mouth. He could chew and swallow. But then the food just sort of sat there, in his defunct stomach. So. That was nasty.
He didn't sleep that first night either. Despite grabbing a sleeping bag on the way back, he just didn't feel tired. He'd stood and waited to get tired for a little while, tried lying down, tried closing his eyes, but he just didn't sleep. In fact, closing his eyes reminded him of being in the tomb, and he quickly opened them again.
He wasn't sure if he really couldn't sleep at all, or if he was just afraid. After all, the last time he'd closed his eyes had apparently been when he died. But either way, he was awake the whole night. He felt the seconds tick by, saw the gradual changes in the sky.
***
Ray looked at his hands again, wiggling his fingers. This whole being dead thing was a bit strange. He didn't age, dead and all. Any marks that appeared on his body stayed. The cells wouldn't regrow, the skin wouldn't knit itself back together. He'd gotten a knife swung at his arm at one point, and now there was a gouge there that he covered with his sleeves. The wound didn't bleed, he had no blood circulating, but it didn't heal either. There was also the thing about not eating or getting tired for similar reasons.
But if he worked completely like a corpse, how come his eyes were fine? They should've dried out. He was pretty sure a noticeable amount of dead skin should've flaked off too. Not that he wanted those things to happen, but clearly his situation wasn't as simple as a perfectly normal corpse that just happened to be animated.
He sighed. An odd sensation when you didn't need to breath. Magic.
***
Ray was standing outside, at the back of the condos, watching the sky. The sun would be rising soon. Standing out here and watching the sun climb steadily higher into the sky was a pretty amazing sight. Normally pretty peaceful too.
Tonight he'd been joined by a vampire, so less peaceful, but he didn't mind the company. It made things a little less boring. And reminded him he was not, in fact, in a bubble of isolation.
The vampire also watched the sky, smoking a cigarette. According to her, vampires couldn't taste much, outside the obvious, and that included cigarettes. But they could feel the burn that wouldn't give an immortal like them lung cancer, and they could smell it.
Ray thought the line between taste and smell was a bit blurry, but he admired the creativity. Maybe he'd try it sometimes. After all, since he couldn't eat, he'd taken to chewing gum if he wanted to taste something. You weren't supposed to eat that.
"Though with that logic, I might as well try mouthwash," Ray couldn't help but joke.
The vampire, Emily, hummed and puffed out some more smoke. "So, do you have a problem with being dead? Because you're giving me some mixed messages on that."
"I mean, if I'd just died for real and not come back-I'm glad I didn't do that. It's just, most people think the dead should stay dead. And that if you come back, coming back wrong is basically a prerequisite."
"Some people say similar things about vampires," Emily pointed out. "And since they've already decided that's how it works, they'll take anything you do and twist it in favor of their argument. If you don't like partying anymore, it's clearly because you came back wrong, and not because you can no longer drink." Emily sighed. "Those people aren't worth wasting time on."
"But you don't have things like zombies or people 'brought back' on a demon ritual circle who so clearly prove their point," Ray said.
Emily frowned, turning to look at him. "But you're not either of those. You're a revenant."
"A what now?"
"A revenant. You know, someone whose soul continues to inhabit its body even after the body is dead. You still have your mind and soul." It was quiet for a moment. She looked at him with a half-lidded, unimpressed expression. "You had no idea what a revenant was, did you?"
"No," Ray admitted.
Still. He found himself smiling. This was it, the explanation he was looking for. There was nothing evil lurking in the back of him. Or if there was, it had always been there. He was still Ray.
He turned back to the sky. It was getting lighter, the start of the sunrise.
"I should head back in," Emily said.
Right. Vampire. It would ruin the mood if she was set on fire right then and there.
Ray nodded, still watching the horizon. "Thank you."
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2 comments
A revenant, great idea! Thank you, I enjoyed reading. Write more, following you!
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Thanks. I try to only write if I already have an idea for one of the prompts, but that happens fairly often.
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