Clockwork

Chapter One

"I cannot see. I cannot move. I cannot hear.

I cannot breath, it's agonizing.

It's cold here, which is ironic, since it's closer to hell.

It's depressing. The damp soil is smothering my body.

It's lonely here.

Sometimes I wonder...

Why couldn't I have been cremated?" - unknown.

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When you pass into the other life, you have a choice, depending on how you die.

You can- either- lay in a cold and depressing hole for the rest of eternity, which is usually what the peaceful spirits do. Or you can roam the earth in search of something.

Revenge.

But it all depends on how you die.

There are millions of ways to die.

Including the way I encountered.

I was murdered.

And I wanted revenge.

Revenge is sweet. Especially on the man that ended your life. Your sixteen year old life.

You see, I was held captive in his basement for three months before he finally did it.

He tortured me. Until he ended it with a swift slice of a knife to my throat.

It's not like he hasn't done it before.

He's a monster. I wanted him to feel the way I felt. I wanted him six feet down in a hole of nothing. I wanted to become his biggest nightmare. I wanted to become his biggest fear, his reality, his life. I wanted to form into his entire mind, manifest into what he fears most. I will drive him insane. I will ruin his sanity. Until he finally snaps.

Suicide's a bitch.

In the afterlife, there is no such thing as the beautiful world that beings call "Heaven". When you die, you go nowhere. Absolutely nowhere. You lie in a damn hole and suffer. I should be so lucky.

I've been buried for about twenty-four hours now. I wondered how my parents were feeling. They probably thought I had died a long time ago. They've probably already forgotten me.

If only I at least had a funeral.

Oh, you thought I was buried in a graveyard? How cute.

A graveyard would be better... But no. I'm buried in his backyard. Surrounded by what seems to be- correct me if I'm wrong- his other victims. All females. Once so young, so beautiful. But now, their bodies have decayed. Their flesh, chewed away by the many insects who accompany us.

How inviting.

Laying still and desperate to get out of this hell hole, I heard heavy footsteps above me. I heard the mumbling of a man's voice, although I couldn't make out exactly what he was saying.

I heard laughing. It was my murderer.

I never knew his name, and I was never going to call him by his real name anyway. He didn't deserve it.

The footsteps disappeared and I heard another voice, but this one was much closer to me.

"Hello?" I heard again.

"Hello, who are you?" I replied.

"My name's Anna. Please help. I can't see anything."

She was dead, too.

"Anna, I'm Quinn. It's okay, just stay calm."

"I'm bleeding, why am I bleeding?" the little voice of Anna cried.

I started to cry, too. Only because I could tell she wasn't any older than ten.

I was about to tell her that everything was okay, until I heard a scratching noise above me. No, more like a digging noise, getting closer and closer.

Sooner or later, I started to see light, although it was dark outside, the moon set off just enough to see my surroundings. Trees were above me. Then I seen a shovel, and his face. Even though I was dead, I still felt the rage rush through my empty veins.

He reached down the hole, with no hesitation at all of touching my dead body, and grabbed the thing I cherished the most, the only thing that reminded me of home; my locket with a family picture from when I was young. He ripped it right off my neck and began to smile.

I wanted to scream and cry for it back, but I couldn't. Spirits cannot scream, on the outside.

I now felt the damp soil collapse back down on my body and I was once again smothered.