NECROMANTIC

twenty four.

I sucked in a breath so sharp I ended up choking on air. "Y-you what?"

Marcus swallowed his mouthful, but not before spearing another hunk of chocolate chip batter and whipped cream. "The people who want us dead." He said slowly, as if talking to a child, before shoving the forkful into his mouth.

I stared at him, jaw hanging open, and waited for him to elaborate, to say something – anything. When he didn't, I started to get a creeping sensation, and the voice in my head said 'he's playing you for a fool...' It was the same feeling I'd had in the graveyard when we'd met.

I stood up abruptly, clenching my hands into fists, Marcus' nonchalance and disturbing, even somewhat threatening, words convincing me that he was, indeed, pulling some sort of sick joke. "You're kidding." I didn't word it like a question. I worded it sharply, as a statement. I shook my head, snorting. "And I can't believe you almost had me going. That I nearly bought a load of shit from the world's best fertiliser salesman."

Marcus frowned, chewing. "What?"

"You know what, I'm outta here." I laughed bitterly, and started to leave – but Marcus' hand quickly shot out and he grabbed me, holding me in place.

"Sarah, stay." He said, swallowing his mouthful quickly and looking up at me with big, desperate eyes.

"I'm not a fucking dog." I huffed and tried to pull myself free.

"I'm not lying, I swear. Sta- please, stay, and I'll explain everything to you. Please. I promise." He said quickly, his voice taking on an almost pleading edge. "You have my word."

"Like your word means shit." I snarled.

"Sarah, I – I swear on my mom and dad's graves. I swear. I'm not lying. I'll explain."

I didn't know if he knew that those exact words would get me, but they did. So I stopped struggling to free my arm and he let go, and I sat back down. I looked at him, with a stony expression, waiting for him to get on with it.

I was in two minds about just getting up and darting away, out of his reach. About whether the story he'd told me was true, and he was holding me here on a false account of dead parents.

Another part of me said no one's that fucked up and cold to say something like that and it not be real.

Marcus swallowed, meeting my eyes, and though it seemed like he wanted to look away or drop his gaze again, he didn't, and continued to keep the contact, his face solemn. "I'm sorry, for being so flippant there. I guess... I guess it's just my way of coping. I told you. I have a dark, theatrical sense of humour."

I raised an eyebrow. "Coping with what?"

He laughed, humourlessly, and shrugged. "Everything. Mostly... mostly the fact that there's people out there. That know about us. Want to... want to hurt us."

"Explain." I said, curtly, bluntly, though my heart had started to race.

What if it wasn't bullshit?

"A few months back, this girl became my friend. She... I'd known her my whole life, practically. She was shy and quiet, came from a religious family – y'know? Attended church every Sunday, kept a bible on her at all times, refused to take part in our science class when the topic was evolution. She hung around with what everyone else called 'the Jesus squad'. That is... until they kicked her out of their group because she apparently kissed a girl and liked it. So I'd see her around town. Always tried her best not to look lonely, but never quite succeeded.

"And then, one day, I was in the library, studying. I'd graduated high school, see, but had decided to take time out before going to college, but now I was ready. I was planning on studying different culture's beliefs in life after death, because, hey, seemed appropriate. Anyway. She sat next to me. Introduced herself, Mary-Beth, a suitably good girl name. Asked if I wanted any help. Turned out the girl knew quite a bit on what I was looking at. Soon, she'd turn up all the time. And we just kind of... hung out. Studying. Went for coffee. After a couple of months passed, she eventually invited me over to her place, to study, and apparently, she'd play this song on her guitar she'd been writing. I didn't think anything of it, so I accepted."