Redemption

Prologue

"We shouldn't be here," the boy said, tugging his friend's arm.

"What, are you scared?" his friend teased, breaking free of his hold.

"I'm not scared, but this is wrong; we should respect the dead."

"They're dead; what will they do, rise from their graves," he said, snickering.

A branch snapped, causing the boys to jump up in alarm.

"Run!" the boy screeched.

Ignoring the boy, his friend grabbed him and hid, waiting, watching.

A shovel clanked loudly against the stone, dirt flying as it dug downwards, revealing the wooden exterior of a coffin. The stiff coffin creaked open, a shadow of a man cast downwards upon it. A knife glinted under the moonlight, sliding it across his hand, blood dripped down, splattering softly against a stone. Bringing his hand to the corpse he began chanting. The harsh, hushed sounds mixed with the wind. Two pale hands crept up, grasping the edge of the coffin, a woman's body rose slowly, dark red smeared on her forehead. Its movements mechanical, like a puppet; the two boys watched, fear etched on their faces. Snapping its eyes open, the body became rigid, and black ink ran throughout its veins.

"We will do revolutionary things, you and I," the shadowed figure murmured, caressing its face.

The boys stumbled back, trying to escape, one tripping back with a loud thud. Whipping his head around, the figure stared, pausing a moment before fleeing, the undead body following, its movements robotic. Shooting up, the two boys sprinted until they collapsed, heart racing, wishing they could purge that moment from their minds.