The Afterlife of Lizzie Monroe

by Kelly Martin

  "I think it has the potential. We need to know what it is and what magic it might have."

  "If it's magic at all," she corrected. The thought of having a magic ring on her finger didn't sit right with her. She had been raised to denounce all types of the occult. Then again, she'd been raised not to slit her own wrists too.

  "If it's not magic, what is it?" he challenged, sitting across from her. "God? Did God keep you alive in that casket for the past one hundred and fifty years?"

  "Maybe," she said defiantly, but she wasn't sure she believed it. It wasn't that she didn't think God could do it. He raised Lazarus from the dead after all, and wasn't she sort of like Lazarus? But she wasn't sure He would. She should be dead, and she knew it. Something was doing it, and she wanted to know what.

  "Maybe." He scoffed with a laugh. "Well, you keep dreaming that way and I'll work on the practical."

  "Magic is practical?" It was her turn to scoff. "Doesn't seem much more ludicrous than the idea of God."

  Shane's face hardened and his nose flared a bit. "The idea of an all-knowing, all-powerful God is ludicrous in my book. I'd believe in something evil over something good any day."

  "Why?" She was truly curious. Why would someone want to believe in evil over good? Dark magic over God's power and love?

  "Have you seen the world?" He jumped up in a huff and pointed out the window toward the big world outside.

  "No, I can't say I have," she said with a rigid jaw.

  Shane's expression softened and his arm fell to his side. He leaned his hip on the desk and stared down at her. "I don't suppose you have." He took a deep breath. "Look, the world is awful. It's horrible. It's cold and it's evil. We have people shooting at kids in schools and movie theaters. We are in no telling how many wars and people can't just leave others alone. So yeah, I believe in evil over good, because I, for the life of me, can't figure out why a God… A loving, caring God, would let this happen in the world. I don't understand how He…" Shane put his fingers up as quotes. "…can cause tornadoes or hurricanes that kill hundreds of people in less than an hour's time, and He isn't considered a mass murderer. I don't get it, and if you are going to sit there and shove religion down my throat, I'm going to tell you right now, that I don't want it."

  Lizzie sat silent for a few moments, studying him. She'd never in her life or the after heard someone speak so passionately about the non-existence of God. "I'm not going to shove anything down your throat."

  "Good…"

  She kept talking over him. "But I am going to tell you that you are wrong. I know how bad the world is… or I knew. It wasn't fun or pleasant in my time either. People got shot every day. There was so much tension because of the war. Was Tennessee going to secede? Was it not? It only did by the slimmest of margins and that led to strife between people. It was an uncertain world, like I gather it still is. There's nothing new under the sun, Mr. Davis. It's just presented differently."

  "Then why in the world can you believe in a good God?

  "Because I'd rather believe in a God that loves me than in a world that hates me."

  Shane scratched his chin and shook his head. "I'm not telling you you're wrong, because it's a free country, and you can believe what you want to believe. But I will say if there is a God, He has a very warped sense of humor."

  "Is that why you burned down my church? Because you were mad at God?"

  Shane's eyes widened a bit then recovered. "Which would imply I actually believed in Him."

  "I think you do. Deep down, you do."

  "Just drop it, Lizzie! It was an accident, remember?"

  "Mr. Davis…"

  "Stop calling me that! It's Shane. My name is Shane, and I didn't burn down your church to get back at God."

  "Don't lie to me."

  "I didn't," he said defiantly.

  Well, she could be just as defiant. "Then how come you were there? Don't get me wrong. I'm glad you were, but I'm not stupid, Shane. I don't know what your gadgets are in this time, but I know people. You burned it down — accident or not — and when you heard me screaming, you panicked."

  "That's not true," he said with less fire.

  "It is! And I appreciate it. I do. I'm glad I got out. Who knows what would have happened if I caught on fire? I don't know how far this ring do-hickey will protect me." For the first time, that scared her. In the hours since her rescue, she'd taken for granted that she would live. Now, looking at the ring, she couldn't help wondering how much so called magic it possessed and how long until her Earthly life was over. Would it be a slow drawn out death, or would she just fall over? And what would happen if she took the ring off? Shane said it wouldn't be good. She wasn't ready to test that theory. Not just yet. Not unless she had to.

  ****

  Shane jumped on the chance to change the subject. Sure, it wasn't an accident he'd burned down the church — a stupid, stupid move on his part. Now he had his sister knowing the truth, Preston being a big baby, and his mom suspicious… not to mention the 'dead' Lizzie Monroe talking his ear off about God in his bedroom. "That's why we need to figure out where the ring came from, what the symbol means, and the rules associated with it."

  "Rules?" Her little nose wrinkled and he couldn't help but warm inside. This girl, this poor girl really had no idea of the twenty-first century. Anyone now would know that any sort of magic had 'rules', if not learned in some book or vampire TV show.

  "According to popular belief…"

  "Belief?" She raised a brow. Of course she picked up on the one word that reminded her of her God. She was like a religious bloodhound.

  "Not that kind of belief. Belief like a generally accepted fact."

  "Like God." She smiled mischievously.

  "Don't push it." But he couldn't help but grin back. He could see why Daniel had been infatuated with her. She had a certain way about her, a sweetness. "Anyway, the popular belief is all magic has a price or that it has limits. We have to figure out the limits of your ring. How long will it keep you alive and what happens if you take it off?"

  She looked down at her hand. "We can take care of that right now."

  Before Shane could stop her, Lizzie reached down and pulled the ring up past her knuckles and over her fingernails. "Stop!" he yelled, lurching toward her. It was too late.

  With the ring in her right hand, Lizzie looked up at him with surprise. "I feel fine."

  "You feel fine?" He could feel his heart beating in his throat. He couldn't believe that. It had to be the ring that kept her alive. It had to be.

  "Yeah. Fine." She smiled and looked at her hand. "What does that mean?"

  He let out a shaky breath. He'd be darned. "I'm not sure. It has to be the ring though. What else could be keeping you alive?" Shane reached for her hand and looked it over. "That's… crazy."

  "Well, whatever it is… it's not that ring." She dropped the oval thing to the floor beside her wedding dress covered knee. "Any other theories?"

  He scarcely got a syllable out in answer before Lizzie coughed violently and the blackest gunk Shane had ever seen shot out of her mouth. She caught it in her hand and looked up at Shane in horror.

  Blood.

  Black blood.

  "Shane," she said before another coughing fit took her over. Another wad of black shot out of her mouth, splattering on her formerly white dress.

  She looked down at her wrists and saw the slits she'd placed there over a hundred years ago reopen, and the dark liquid freely oozing from them.

  Shane was at her side in two seconds. He grabbed her by the shoulders and sat her up. "You cannot die. Got it? I don't want to lose… I can't explain it to my mom if you do."

  She smiled with black stained teeth. "Guess it was the ring after all." Her eyes rolled back in her head and the corpse became a corpse again.

  Chapter Ten

  1862 — month unclear

  Lizzie woke up in a fright. The dream had seemed so real. She'd been told of Daniel's death, given the ring, and th
en went to the barn to end her not-worth-living life.

  It was dark and cold, and the air was stale. She tried to catch her breath, but she couldn't. The air she sucked in didn't seem to be reaching her lungs. Unsure why she couldn't even see the moon shining in her room, she sat up and hit her head on something hard. Something wooden over her head kept her from going any higher.

  She froze. It couldn't be what she thought it was. It couldn't be. There was no way.

  Lizzie kicked her knees up, sure to knock whatever had fallen on her head off. Her legs only rose a few inches before they hit the barrier as well. Panicked, she threw her hands above her. Sure enough, all she felt was hard wood, under her as well.

  She was in a coffin!

  It was all real.

  Not a dream.

  Daniel was dead.

  And so was she.

  It wasn't a coffin.

  It was Hell.

  This wasn't want she had been expecting when she slid the knife across her arms. She'd expected to wake up and see a warm, sunny paradise. She expected to see Daniel running toward her, and her father, if he was already there. They would be happy with Jesus for all time.

  The tiny box wasn't warm. It wasn't Heaven. Was this it? All alone for the rest of her afterlife. Never seeing Daniel or her father again.

  Lizzie kicked and scratched the wood, trying everything she could to get it to open. Wooden splinters ate away at her fingernails. She smelled the blood. All the while, she screamed at the top of her lungs to get out, but no one ever answered.

  Hell, indeed.

  ****

  Blood.

  Blood?

  It spilled from her wrists and her mouth like a person with diseased lungs, only she had no disease that she knew of. Shane tried to help her, but she didn't see it doing any good. Just like in the barn, she felt the life flowing from her and she fought to keep her eyes open.

  It was no use. Her body became rigid and there was no way she could sit up any more. She fell to the side and stared at the ring. She probably shouldn't have taken it off.

  At least this time, she wasn't inside a box.

  ****

  "Lizzie. Lizzie." Shane climbed on top of her, one leg on each side and shook her, not too hard at first, then hard enough to shake her forcefully. She had to wake up.

  "Okay… okay… this isn't good." What could he do? One, he could get off of her. It wasn't a good position to be on a dead girl. Two, he had to make her undead.

  The ring.

  It had worked once. Maybe it would again.

  A quick scan of the floor showed nothing. He couldn't find the stupid thing. He grumbled an expletive, pushed his hair back behind his ears when it fell into his eyes, and crawled over her so he had a better view of the floor.

  Metal shone under the nightstand.

  Not wasting any time, he reached under the table, stretching until he found it. When he got it in his fingers, he dragged it out and turned back to Lizzie. She looked horrible. A puddle of blood pooled around her, and her face was ashen.

  Not stopping to think, he grabbed her cold and lifeless left hand. He pushed it on her finger and waited, hoping every old movie he'd ever seen about magic rings was right. If not, he was royally screwed.

  "Come on… come on," he whispered watching her chest. It wasn't his normal reason for watching a girl's chest, but this time it was necessary. She had to open her eyes. At least give him one sign she wasn't gone for good.

  "What the heck!"

  Shane's own heart sank and a wave of sickness hit his stomach. He'd been so worried about Lizzie that he didn't hear his bedroom door open or Cheyenne walking in. "You killed her?"

  "I didn't kill her. Why would you automatically start with that conclusion?" He'd have to remember to thank his sister for the vote of confidence when I got the dead girl back to her undead status.

  "I'd think it was fairly obvious. Can't say I ever saw you as the murdering type," said a very familiar, and oh so annoying male voice behind her.

  Shane shut his eyes and didn't even turn to look. Of all the people, of all the people to see this. It had to be him.

  "What did you do to her?" Cheyenne ran over to kneel beside of Lizzie. She pushed Shane to the side, but he didn't budge. Lizzie was his to deal with, not Cheyenne's. "Oh gracious! Shane! Did you drug her?"

  He just glared. "When this is over, we are really going to have to talk about how much you don't trust me."

  "Evidence." She pointed to Lizzie's lifeless body.

  "She's not dead." Lord, please let her not be dead. He couldn't believe he just prayed to something not five minutes ago he claimed to not believe in. Just great. His entire life was screwed up.

  "She looks dead," Drake, ever helpful Drake, announced from a few feet away. "What's with all the blood…? What the— Did you cut her wrists, man?" he screeched, horrified.

  "No!"

  "And I knew you were into this Lizzie thing, but why did you have to get a look alike to sleep with? And you killed her? Slit her writs like the real Lizzie did?" Cheyenne shrieked.

  "I didn't…"

  "Call 9-1-1," Cheyenne ordered Drake who pulled out his phone.

  "Stop!" Shane reached back and knocked it from Drake's hand. Drake started to say something ugly, but Shane talked over him. "You can't call the cops."

  "Why? She's dying if she's not already dead." Cheyenne reached down for a pulse. She jerked her hand back, her eyes wide. "Shane," she whispered. "What did you do?"

  Shane actually had no words to explain it. Two people he really didn't want to depend on to keep his secret knew about the dead girl in his room. Wonderful.

  The girl under him took in a huge breath and sat up, holding her chest as she gasped for air. Shane caught her by the shoulders and leaned down to look in her eyes. She didn't have to breathe, so Shane had no idea why she was. But at least she was moving. Moving was good. "Breathe, girl. Just breathe," he ordered. Good. Score one for him. And they now knew beyond a doubt that it was the ring keeping her alive. Score two.

  Of course his twin and her idiot boyfriend had watched the dead girl become undead in his room… Score them.

  He tried to cover it up, though he was sure his uninvited guests saw the slits on Lizzie's wrists closing until they were only scars. It was pretty cool and pretty freaky at the same time.

  "Shane," Cheyenne said slowly. "What's going on?"

  Shane motioned to Drake. "Not in front of him."

  "Not a chance, buddy." Drake sat down in the rolling chair in front of the desk. "I'm in on this now. What kind of freaky, kinky thing are you into?"

  Shane wanted to get up and throw the little — word he didn't normally say out loud — out of his room and lock the door. Lizzie was his and no one else's. A lot of good it had done him to keep her in his room. She hadn't been there twenty-four hours before Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dumb found out about her.

  His life sucked.

  "Wait. Does this have something to do with the fire?" Drake asked, curious. Shane wasn't used to hearing him without at least a hint of snark in his voice. It didn't suit him.

  "Fire?"

  "You can drop the innocent act," Cheyenne said.

  It ticked him off, quite frankly. Hadn't she promised to keep his secret?

  "You told him?" He gritted his teeth.

  "Now who needs to talk about trusting each other?" She bit back.

  "I accused you of a breaking a promise, not killing someone. I think that's a bit of a difference." Shane glared.

  "Children. We get it. You're both untrustworthy. You have issues. Shut up about it and tell me what's going on. Why did you set the old church on fire?"

  Shane was going to tell him, again, that he didn't when Cheyenne shook her head at him. "He knows, Shane. Drake and I went to the old church today to scope the damage. We couldn't go downstairs because it had collapsed, but Mr. Brown was there. You know? The person in charge of the upkeep of the church?"

  He'd done a fine jo
b, Shane thought sarcastically. He just nodded with irritation. Lizzie groaned in his arms and he rubbed her cheek to soothe her. He'd much rather deal with her than the two others trying to ruin his life.

  "He said the fire department checked out the basement to make sure no one was down there. Kids acting foolish and the like." She let him know through her steely stare that she was talking about him. He got it, thanks.

  "They found a hole in the wall and what they think was Lizzie Monroe's casket burned up down there."

  It was Drake's turn. He sat in the desk chair backwards and leaned his chin on his folded arms which rested on the back of the chair. "But no sign of a body. Not even bones. Which is strange because you would assume something would be in a coffin. A dress. Something. It wouldn't have all disappeared."

  "You know what happens when you assume." Shane couldn't help saying it. He really needed a new joke.

  "Ohhhh." Drake smirked. "Touchy."

  "What does this have to do with me?" He wanted them gone so he could focus on Lizzie. While better, and moving, she didn't look quite right. He needed to get her in the bed and comfortable before something else happened. And he had to be sure to never let her take that ring off again.

  Drake sat straighter. "I think you set the fire, and I don't know, got all kinky and went to steal Lizzie's body."

  "Are you insane?" Shane nearly pushed Lizzie out of his lap to slap his band mate. It would feel good if he did. Big idiot. "That's morbid."

  "And yet, here she sits."

  "This girl's not dead." Shane shot back.

  "She was," Cheyenne, ever helpful, said. "When we came in."

  "Do you know how crazy you sound?" Shane scoffed. Crazy, maybe. But getting way too close to the truth."She's not who you think."

  "Then enlighten us," Drake said way too politely. Shane knew this wouldn't end well. "Why is there a girl dressed in a tattered wedding dress, who looks a lot like Lizzie Monroe lying on your floor? Why was she dead when we walked in, but very much alive now? Why wasn't there anyone in the casket in the church? And where's the real Lizzie Monroe?"

  "I am Lizzie Monroe," Lizzie said before Shane could stop her. There had to be some way to shut her up that didn't involve her bleeding all over his floor.