Rise at Twilight

by Kayla Krantz

  That it was all real.

  A shiver ran down her spine as she backed away from the mirror until her back hit the wall, and she was out of range to see any of her reflection. Swallowing, she tested the water again before hopping into it, glad that even in death, a warm shower was enough to relax her tensed muscles. She let it run through her raven hair as she studied the soaps and conditioners a bit closer. A set appeared unopened, and she guessed he had gotten them specifically for her.

  Did he buy that back in high school? she wondered, noticing the faintest hint of dust on the plastic, and sighed before turning her back on them as she continued her shower.

  “Short notice, my ass,” she muttered under her breath.

  Luna turned off the water and wrapped a fluffy towel around herself just as the door popped open. She froze, grasping the edge of the sink, and hated that there was no way to keep him out, no way to ensure she was alone. Chance watched her through apologetic blue eyes, and she wondered what for until his eyes came to rest on the wound on her throat, and she had her answer.

  “Hey,” he greeted, peering inside the room as if he wasn’t sure whether or not he wanted to come in at all.

  “Hi,” she replied stiffly, clutching her towel tight beneath her elbows as she reached up to drag her fingers through her tendrils of soaked hair. She focused on the blurry outline of her reflection because, for as terrible as it was, it was better than looking at him.

  “I want to apologize for earlier,” he said, pushing the door open the rest of the way. He clutched a rose in his hand, very much like the one he had given her years ago at Prom, and Luna felt her mouth go dry as she stared at it. “Let’s start out on a better foot…shall we?” he asked, extending it to her.

  Luna licked her lips, eyes darting between the rose and his face. A peace offering, it was a peace offering…how often had he tried giving her one of those?

  Never, she thought, studying every inch of his face for some sign of a lie, some sign that there was more to the gesture than he was willing to admit. She had seen many fake looks in his eyes, and in his features, over the years, but this time, he seemed sincere, perhaps the first time he ever had been.

  Her head screamed two different reactions at her, and she wasn’t sure which one to choose. After all, what was anger or acceptance when you were dead? Her shoulders slumped before she took the rose in her slender fingers.

  “We both said things; it was a heated moment,” she murmured and stared at the vibrant petals before she shrugged.

  Chance smiled, wrapping his fingers around Luna’s hand that clutched the rose. “So…do you accept my apology?” he inquired, tilting his head to the side. Even though adulthood had sculpted him with rugged handsomeness, there was still something so boyish about the way he asked the question.

  Luna nodded before she pulled her hand free, set the rose down on the sink, and clenched her towel tighter around herself, wondering if the moment felt as awkward to him as it did to her. “Do you have any clothes I can wear?”

  Chance reached up to scratch the back of his neck, eyes on his discarded shirt on the floor. “Honestly, all I have for you to wear would be mine…or a white gown, of course.”

  Luna vehemently shook her head. She wanted to forget the worst of her memories, not relive them.

  He held his hands out palms up. “Sorry. That’s all I’ve got. I didn’t have much time to make provisions.”

  Luna arched an eyebrow and had to put effort into not mentioning the soaps in the shower.

  “I’m sure I can find you something. Be back in a minute,” he said and turned to leave the room as if he sensed her biting thought.

  Luna let out a slow breath of air, calming her nerves as she twisted her fingers through her wet hair. Before she could torture herself with her reflection again, she picked up the rose, and moved to sit on the bed in the bedroom, waiting obediently for his return. Her thoughts conflicted one another so much that her head physically hurt. She felt as if she were two people fighting for control of the same body. New Luna was hardened by everything she had gone through but weak for the same reasons. She was the one with the blossom of hope for Chance, with the need to have him by her side for the bit of comfort he had offered her when all other hope had left her, the one who was starting to believe that he was the only one who could truly understand her.

  Then there was Old Luna. The part of her that she would consider true...the part that had almost completely vanished from her subconscious. It knew right and wrong and screamed at her that nothing about her entire situation was right—this place was wrong, being with Chance was wrong, and she needed to get away, back to the safety of her friends.

  Unfortunately, New Luna was stronger. Her decisions were the ones that were pushed through while Old Luna watched on in abstract horror, fading more and more as time went on. She was losing the fight and unsure what she could do to stop it from happening.

  If anything at all. Maybe it was already too late.

  The pounding beneath Luna’s skull grew stronger, and she clutched the rose tighter, drawing a drop of blood from the impact of the thorn.

  She had been doomed from the moment she no longer considered Chance to be her enemy. Now, it didn’t matter. It had literally been another life, and Chance was right when he said she needed to let it go.

  But things weren’t as black and white as she wished them to be.

  Death was supposed to clean the slate, she thought.

  That could still be true, even though the situation had turned out drastically different from what she had imagined. She clutched the rose in her hand again, running her palm across the petals.

  He’s trying, she thought. You should too.

  Chapter Ten

  AT THIS POINT in her life, Layanna Harris was a walking ghost. She hardly ate, hardly slept. Even though she was a tall woman, she was slender beyond the healthy means only weighing in at a hundred and ten pounds. There was nothing about her healthy, mind or body, and that was her own fault. The only things she kept up on were the things destroying her life—heroin and her brother, Stephen. Both of them were poisonous, she knew, both of them rotted her from the inside out, but she was an addict to them in equal measures.

  Her entire life had been dedicated to her brother and his wellbeing. Now that he was an adult, a dead adult, that didn’t change. She could still talk to him, and he to her. That was where the drugs came in handy. For the little bit that she did manage to sleep, she was often plagued with nightmares, but when she blacked out, she slept in blissful nothingness.

  That was her real addiction. Peace was always addicting when she could find it because in her life, there weren’t many opportunities for it.

  When she heard knocking on her door, she knew this wasn’t going to be one of those times. Slowly, she rose on rail-thin legs that didn’t want to support her weight and made her way over to the door. She peered out through the grimy peephole and flinched when she caught sight of familiar green eyes staring back at her.

  Breath catching in her throat, she did a quick scan of the locks to make sure they were all in place before she opened her mouth. “What is it, Cody?” she yowled through the door, pressing her body against it as if her miniscule weight would actually be enough to hold the door shut if he decided to kick it open.

  “We should talk,” he said, calmly, coolly, but Layanna was not fooled.

  That was the voice of a madman.

  “No,” she said. “We have nothing to discuss.”

  “Open the door, Layanna,” he said, voice still amicable though Layanna knew he was already annoyed, and she wondered just how many people he fooled with that light tone.

  “You can say whatever you have to say to me through the door,” she replied.

  “Why the fear now? You certainly had none at Luna’s,” Cody said.

  Layanna tensed. “And you needed to leave her alone. Now say your piece or go about your way. I have things to do.”

  “We both k
now you don’t, but I suppose I’ll cut to the chase. Luna is actually why I’m here now,” Cody said, that sweet voice still alive.

  “I thought we had an agreement.”

  “And we do, but circumstances have risen in which I need her help. I need to get in contact with your brother. I’m positive he can find her, unless, you happen to know where she’s at.”

  Layanna was quiet. “What do you need her for?”

  Cody chuckled, and the sweet façade vanished. “Does it matter? She owes me a favor regardless.”

  “Tell me what favor, and maybe I’ll tell you where she’s at,” Layanna said, hoping he would bargain but also knowing that he would not.

  “Never you mind,” Cody said. “I’ll find her on my own.”

  Just like that, he was gone, and the uneasy feeling that usually stirred in Layanna’s stomach was back full force.

  Chapter Eleven

  THE NEXT DAY, Chance was gone when Luna opened her eyes, and she didn’t know what to think. Was he still mad at her, even after making amends? Or had he been called away to take care of something? Luna scrunched her face at her own question. What was there to take care of when you were dead? Did he have friends he visited? Or was it something more insidious than she cared to believe?

  She chewed on her lip, contemplating what to do with her day as she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The possibilities were endless, but all she could think of doing was lying there, waiting for the time to pass until Chance would return and tell her where he had gone. As odd as it sounded, she dreaded her freedom—she had no idea what to do with it.

  Finally, she forced herself to get up, moving just one body part at a time in an attempt to drag it out, but eventually she was on her feet. She wandered toward the hallway, peering into the bathroom as she passed it. Wandering down the hallway, she felt lost, and couldn’t help but check each room she passed for signs of her blond roommate in case she was wrong.

  When she reached the front room, she accepted the fact he was not in the cabin, and that didn’t make the uneasy feeling in her gut disappear. It was all so odd. After all the work he had put into getting her here, it seemed weird that he would leave her alone, trusting her to stay. It wasn’t as if Chance had locked her away this time, but she almost wished he had. In a way, it would’ve made things simpler. The thought of leaving frightened her as much as the idea of staying put.

  Luna frowned. The silence in the meantime would drive her mad. The front room looked much the same as it had in her memories—the walls were wooden, the windows painted over in black, and candles dotted the room. They sat on the table, on the windowsills, and some were on the counter that led into a tiny kitchen. This room was practically devoid of all furniture that would make it homey—there was no couch, no television, no bookshelves…no lamp. Just the table and two wooden chairs…along with the silver shackles in the wall.

  Luna told herself not to look at them, she told herself that looking at them would take her back to the bad place, the part of her memory that she never allowed herself to go into. What’s the difference? The whole cabin was part of that bad place after all.

  Licking her lips, Luna let her eyes dip to the shackles, and involuntarily, she reached up to touch her wrists, remembering the pain of the metal slicing through the skin. She swallowed and thought she would be sick when something else overcame her—anger. Staring at the shackles a moment longer, she captured the anger and used it to march into the tiny kitchen.

  Rummaging through the drawers, she found what she was looking for—a crowbar. Grasping it in both hands, she moved back to the front room, eyes dead set on her target. She walked toward the shackles without hesitation, cramming the end of the crowbar into the tiny gap between the metal fixture and the wall. Grunting, she put all her weight into the move and pried them right from the wall in a shower of dust and bits of wood and drywall. Coughing, she waved away the mixture and gave a satisfied smile to the crumpled pile of metal at her feet.

  Throwing the crowbar down with a metallic clang, she bent down to scoop up the shackles, fingers tightening around it so roughly that she cut her finger on a rough piece of metal. In one fluid motion, she moved across the cabin to the heavy front door and forced it open before she threw the metal out into the wild beyond, listening for the thump as it sunk into the grass.

  Satisfied, she closed the door behind her and looked at the spot in the wall again, now just a mess and a hole. It was ugly, but somehow better than the previous version. As Luna picked up the crowbar, she tried to think about Chance’s face—how he would react to what she had done because she was sure he would notice it right away.

  Laughing, she put the crowbar back into its drawer and looked at the tiny kitchen, suddenly struck with the idea that she had never even known the cabin had a kitchen before today, before she had discovered it. He brought you the food from somewhere, she reminded herself, but it was different to think about something compared to actually seeing it for yourself.

  Biting her lip, she thought about exploring other parts of the cabin she was yet to see. There were so many rooms dotting the hallway, more than she had ever taken notice of, and she wondered if he really utilized all the rooms, and if he did, what were they for? Maybe she’d gain a better understanding of her new roommate—she refused to think of him as any kind of significant other—if she saw every inch of his private living quarters.

  Luna blinked, thinking of the time she had snooped through his house. He had had an entire altar in one room—that was the first time she had ever really seen proof that he was insane. If he was the same person as he’s always been, she would bet good money he’d have an alter here too somewhere…along with other horrors that she would most likely be better off not knowing.

  Luna poked at one of the unlit candles on the table, glancing up to see a tiny skull perched in the nearest window frame. Between the shadows and the candle beside it, she had almost overlooked it, and wished she had. The sight of it caused her to shiver, as if there was something menacing about it. It was in a way, she supposed, except on the list of terrible things she had seen, this ranked very low.

  Turning her attention back to the hallway, she considered her options. Explorer beware, she told herself as she came to the first doorway. The door creaked, and she peered inside, feeling her heart still at the possibilities of what she could see. When she saw a few totes piled in the farthest corner, she let out the breath she had held and went over to one, popping up the lid to see what was inside.

  There were books and clothes, nothing sinister, and she gave the dark room a final glance before stepping out into the hallway. Feeling slightly at ease, she checked another room and found almost the same—totes full of stuff as well as a linen closet with towels, blankets, and bedsheets. As Luna moved out to the hallway once again, she had to admit she was impressed with the normalcy of the two rooms.

  She hadn’t thought Chance had had it in him.

  Then she tried the third door, and her previous thought left completely. She stared at the brown wood of the door as she rattled the knob, desperate to open it. She tried butting her shoulder against it, but that wasn’t enough to open it either. With her eyes, she traced the frame of the door, thinking of a possible plan of attack. Logically, she knew this wasn’t the best idea she had ever had. If he had the initiative to lock it away after showing her corpses in the past, then it was probably for the best that she couldn’t get inside.

  Luna ruffled her raven black hair but admitted defeat as she stepped away from the door and glanced both ways down the hallway. She was already bored with this decision, tired of playing games with her shadow. She wanted to venture beyond the door in the living room and out into the woods outside…but the anxiety of the thought alone made her heart hurt. Where would she go? Where could she go. How would the people she had once loved react to her?

  Luna’s heart twisted at the thought. She wanted nothing more than to take advantage of her situation, to find them each and
make amends. It was ironic that the thought of them brought her fear now and not the happiness she had imagined would come after all the time she had spent mourning them during the last years of her life.

  Thoughts of Asher suddenly filled her mind. The last time she had seen him, her roommate, Amanda, had tried to use him as a bargaining chip to get Luna to end her life. A warm tear rolled down her cheek, and she wiped it away with the thought that she had no idea how to treat Amanda if she found her again. Friend? Enemy?

  A wistful sigh passed Luna’s lips, and she went back to the main room of the cabin, eyeing the door as she fidgeted with the candle on the table. She gauged the distance, estimating the number of steps in her mind. Hypothetically, the ten steps required to cross the room to the door would not be hard to take. It would only take her seconds to do it, but that was the thought that scared her the most.

  There was no way escape could be that easy.

  Before she realized what she was doing, she took the steps and pushed open the front door, standing on the threshold. The fresh air felt crisp in her lungs, and she drew deep breaths as she peered into the woods beyond, scanning for a familiar blond head of hair. She didn’t see him, and she wondered again where he could’ve gone.

  The entire situation still left her uneasy.

  No telling when he’ll be back, she thought. That could work in her favor. Steeling her shoulders, she braced herself to leave the cabin. The door creaked eerily loud as she pulled it shut behind her, as if it was calling out a warning, but nothing responded. She stepped off the cement step, bare feet sinking into the grass.