This is stupid, this is stupid, this is STUPID!
Lainey convinced herself as she exited her bedroom and made her way down the hall into the living room that what she was about to do was beyond reckless. But her body seemed to be moving on its own.
There was no going back.
Mom was sitting on the sofa, watching dramas based on real-life tragedies like she usually did on the weekends. Lainey decided not to disturb her and grabbed her jacket from the coat rack by the front door.
"Going out?" Mom asked as Lainey pulled on her jacket.
"Yeah, sure. Is that a problem?"
"Back by eight," Mom curtly said.
"I have a curfew now?" Lainey incredulously said as she pulled up her jacket zipper.
Mom turned to face Lainey.
"Back . . . by eight."
Lainey shook her head.
"Fine. Whatever," she muttered, making her way toward the front door. "I wasn't planning on being out that late anyway."
She almost slammed the door shut on her way out.
She stared down the lonely block of Dead Man's Lane, wondering why she hadn't yet turned back to go home some time during the thirty-minute walk.
"Curiosity's definitely gotten the better of me," she whispered to herself as she took her first steps down the block.
Minutes later, she was standing at the front door of the old house, gathering courage to ring the doorbell when she heard his voice.
"Coming back here was dangerous."
Lainey turned to face Benjamin Crawford who was staring up at her from the foot of the steps leading up to the house.
"What are you?" she asked.
Benjamin watched Lainey observantly, but didn't respond.
"What are you? Answer me!"
"Is that why you came all the way back here?" Benjamin asked.
"The Internet was hardly any help," Lainey continued, ignoring Benjamin's question. "Sunlight doesn't effect you so you're obviously not a vampire. You eat people. Like a zombie or something. But I don't remember zombies being able to talk. Or possessing superhuman strength and speed. So what are you?"
"You're not going to find your answer in fantasy," Benjamin laxly said.
"Fantasy?" Lainey whispered. "What's fantasy anymore? I'm talking to an undead . . . monster."
Benjamin squinted his eyes at Lainey.
"Did I ever do anything to you for you to label me as a monster?" he said quietly. "In fact, if I remember correctly, I saved your life."
Lainey averted Benjamin's gaze and shook her head.
"It's only a matter of time," she muttered. "Joseph told me how deadly you are. How you were the deadliest monster he's ever known." Her eyes landed on Benjamin again. "How you'd kill me if I stayed around you long enough."
There was blatant irritation on Benjamin's face.
"He told you that?"
Lainey solemnly nodded.
Benjamin scanned the area.
"We should go inside," he said.
"Why all of a sudden?" Lainey asked nervously.
"If I wanted to kill you, you'd be dead," Benjamin swiftly said. "Besides, you came here of your own free will. You wouldn't have come if you believed I'd hurt you."
"I make a lot of stupid decisions," Lainey said.
"Yeah? Then what's one more?" Benjamin said, walking past Lainey and opening the front door to the old house. "You coming?" he asked in the doorway.
The inside of the two-story house looked nothing like Lainey had imagined. In fact, just the opposite. She expected old, dusty furniture and mice. Instead, the inside looked rather homey.
"How long have you been staying here again?" Lainey asked.
"A couple of months," Benjamin answered as he moved toward the fire place. "But I can't take credit for the interior decor. I pretty much found the place like this."
Lainey walked toward the bay window and opened the curtains but a split second later, Benjamin was there to close them.
"I'd rather they remained closed," he said.
"It's really dark in here."
"You scared?" Benjamin said, returning to the fireplace. "I'll start a fire for you."
"No . . . I'm not scared," Lainey said, walking to the sofa in the center of the living room and sitting down. "It's just . . . really dark."
Benjamin bent down before the rusty fireplace and started a fire using a torch light and the blocks of wood already in the fireplace. When the fire was lit, Benjamin sat next to Lainey. She flinch and slowly scooted away from him.
"How can you stay here like this?" Lainey asked. "It's so gloomy and cold."
"The dark has embraced me for many years," Benjamin responded. "As for the cold, well . . . I don't feel it."
Lainey looked at him.
"You don't feel cold?"
"I don't feel much of anything."
Lainey narrowed her eyes.
"I don't feel anything physical," Benjamin reiterated. "I'm still capable of emotions. Such as compassion. Guilt." He looked at her. "Love."
Lainey averted his gaze and stared into the billowing fire.
"A-Are you going to tell me what you are?" she asked.
Benjamin sighed.
"My kind has been called many things," he said. "Demons. Ghouls. Pretty sure I've even been called 'daeva' once, whatever that means. But for the longest time, we've been known as 'the dead walkers'. And there is only one word that defines us as a species -- undead."
It was taking Lainey everything to keep her eyes on the blazing fire before them. She found herself wanting to stare at Benjamin. To study him. Sitting next to her was an undead creature that strikingly resembled a human being about her age. Except he lacked the traits that made a human being a human being.
And the world lacked sanity.
"If you're undead, does that mean . . ." Lainey started.
"We're immortal, yes," Benjamin said.
"So you live forever."
"Unless we die, of course."
"I don't understand," Lainey said.
"My species is a walking plague, Lainey. We were born from one of the darkest forms of witchcraft -- necromancy -- in the form of an elixir known as the Demon's Spirit. Our very existence is a crime against nature. So nature cursed us. We're immortal, but nature granted us fatal weaknesses."
Lainey massaged her now throbbing forehead.
Benjamin said "I know that this is all --."
"Insane," Lainey said breathlessly. "This is all . . . absolutely insane. You were born from witchcraft? How can magic be real?"
"This world is full of mysteries," Benjamin said. "Always has been and always will be. You'd do well to remember that."
Lainey nodded, but it was merely an instinctive reaction. She was lost in thought as she stared at the loud, crackling fire that casted an eerie orange glow on the living room. For seventeen years she lived in a world she knew nothing about.
"So . . . if witchcraft is real," she said finally, "does that mean there are witches, too?"
From the corner of her eye, Lainey could feel Benjamin's cold gray eyes observing her, sending chills through her body even in the fire's heat.
"The witchcraft that birthed us was created by a very powerful sorceress," he said. "Witches are very real. They're guardians and servants of nature. But this particular witch had gone rogue. She betrayed nature by using forbidden magic to resurrect the dead. And she wasn't the only one. Several witches rebelled against nature. They lived by their own rules, disregarding Nature by practicing forbidden magic."
"Why'd they go rogue?" Lainey asked.
Benjamin shrugged.
"Could have been a number of reasons," he said. "Greed. Weakness. Selfishness. Maybe they merely desired freedom with their magical gifts."
"How long has your species roamed the earth?" Lainey asked. She wanted to learn as much about the undead species as she could.
"Centuries," Benjamin answered, turning his attention to the billowing flames in the fireplace as well. "The origins of our lineage date back as far as the eleventh century. Some say even way before then."
"Joseph turned Rita. How does that work?" Lainey asked. "How does one become a dead walker?"
Benjamin hesitated.
". . . Dying while infected," he whispered. "The infection happens with a single bite. When you die, you'll come back."
"Come back as a dead walker, you mean?"
Benjamin nodded.
"And all it takes is a single bite to become infected? It's that simple?"
"That simple," Benjamin echoed. "It's the reason we usually go for the head when feeding. Severe head injuries keep our prey from reawakening. Decapitation after feeding is also efficient."
"You speak of humans like we're vermin," Lainey said, grimacing.
"To many of us, you are," Benjamin said coldly. "You're either food or a toy. Often times, both."
"Is that how you feel?" Lainey said quietly. "Weren't you human once?"
Benjamin didn't reply. His eyes were now focused on the intense flames before them, the firelight dancing on his pale face.
"Oh my God," Lainey gasped. "It's been that long? How old are you?"
There was a short pause before Benjamin quietly said "I died when I was eighteen. But I've been a dead walker since nineteen forty-seven. That's seventy years."
"So that would make you eighty-eight years old?"
"If you want to get technical, sure." He turned to Lainey. "Any more questions?"
"Yes," she said quietly. "Where's Rita?"
Benjamin's eyes softened.
"Joseph . . . he killed her."
Lainey's gut twisted into a knot?
"What?" she breathed. "No, no. Please tell me you're . . ."
"Unfortunately, Joseph has no regard for human life. I'm . . . sorry for your loss."
Lainey's eyes grew warm.
"Are you going to do something about him? Too many people have died already, Benjamin!"
"I made him leave town."
"You made him to leave town," Lainey said cynically. "Great. Sancova can rest easy now."
"If he comes back, I'll kill him."
"Why give him that chance?"
"He used to be a good friend," Benjamin firmly said, taking Lainey by surprise. "I probably would have been dead long ago if it were not for him."
There were a few moments of heavy silence.
"I'm sorry about Rita," Benjamin continued. "I . . . don't know what else to say."
"There's nothing you can say," Lainey said sharply. "You can't bring her back." After a few moments, a teardrop fell to her lap. "It's not right," she choked out. "Nicki and Rita didn't deserve to die the way they did. It's not right at all."
"Of course it isn't right," Benjamin said. "Nothing about this is right. My species weren't intended by nature. We were born from evil and greed. Hence barbarism being a part of our nature."
"Didn't you say you can control the blood lust or something?" Lainey asked.
"We can, but it can take years to fully adapt to life without killing humans. And even then, you're still not guaranteed a life without bloodshed."
There was a moment of silence before Lainey asked "How long did it take you?"
"Years. Many, many, many years. But I had help."
"You had help?"
"The girl that turned me," Benjamin said tenderly. "Her name is Isabella. She didn't believe in feeding on humans. She believed that even the undead could live normal lives. As normal as possible, anyway."
Lainey narrowed her eyes.
"Her name is Isabella? So . . . she's still alive?"
Benjamin shrugged.
"Probably. I'm pretty sure she is."
"So . . . your kind doesn't have to feed to live?"
"That's another mystery about my species," Benjamin said. "The majority of us slowly die from dessication without human flesh within a few years. But there have been rumors of a few surviving for many years. Centuries. I, myself, have gone over fifty years."
"Before you came here and started feeding on people all over again," Lainey added quietly.
"I'm not proud of what I've done," Benjamin said. "But self-control is not easy. It's like a really bad addiction, but an infinite amount of times worse -- it's nature."
"So there's no guarantee that any dead walker can be completely free of bloodlust?"
Benjamin shook his head.
"I don't know," he said.
Lainey slowly stood.
"I-I should go," she said.
"I'm not going to hurt you," Benjamin said.
"You're in no position to promise that." Lainey sighed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come."
"Fine," Benjamin said. "But you can't say anything about what you know. Promise me."
Lainey shook her head.
"Don't. Don't ask that of me. Please. I . . . I-I gotta go."
Lainey quickly made her way to the front door and out of the house.