Rigor mortis had already set in, but I managed to wrestle her fingers open. The hand writing was smudged and illegible in places, but it was evidence enough. Evidence that this friend of mine was not beloved by everyone, No tip of the hat, no kiss of the ring. Just a knife to the heart, we trick ourselves into thinking that we are immortal. Not true. What this fine lady had written on the crumpled up piece of paper was almost funny. Humans, at least the selfish ones, always try to bargain in the end. But it takes two to make a deal, and obviously whoever she tried to haggle with wasn’t in the mood. The note simply said: “Keep them back for just ten more years and you can have my great grandson instead. But like I said it takes two to make a deal. The angelic blade in her shriveled up raisin-heart would probably put her out of the deal-making business forever. The sand had run out on her hourglass a long time ago. The river Styx was waiting.

Rigor mortis had already set in but she managed to pry the piece of paper from the victims cold, lifeless hand. She looked into his eyes, saw how they were cloudy and grey, like a sky on a stormy night. She felt like he was watching her, judging her. “Pardon, Monsieur” she whispered, genuinely remorseful, as she heaved the knife out of his bloated chest. She began to walk down the streets of France with iron steps, her beaten leather boots slapping the cobbled stones, echoing through the alleys of Avenue Montaigne. She glanced back behind her at the body she had left to rot. She felt for the paper she had stuffed in her pocket, pulling it out in one swift movement. She read what was written on the note ‘Mademoiselle, they’re coming for you...’ was wrote in steady cursive. A gasp escaped her lips as she dropped the note. They had found her. There was nowhere else to go as she heard the beat of horses sound off behind her. This was the end. She was Looking into a dead mans eyes.

(P.s if anyone reads this and dose not speak French ‘pardon, monsieur’ just means ‘I’m sorry, sir’)

 Rigor Mortis has already set in but she managed to pry the piece of paper out of the victim’s cold, lifeless hand. 

   She didn’t know the whole story, she didn’t even know him. All she knew was that he was a friend and he was on her side. She wished she could remember him, and all the time she supposedly spent with him. She wished she could remember anything. 
  She looked down at the note, anticipating what it would say. Isaac told her that everything she needed to know was there, that it would make her remember. She didn’t know if that was true, but for some strange reason she trusted Isaac. 
  So she took a long deep breath and quickly opened the note. All it said were three simple words.  
  They need you. 
  With that all the memories started floating back. 

Finally! She would understand what was so important about this piece of paper. A paper that not only made her mom leave Petra and her father, but so important that her own mother died grasping it till the her last breathe. As she grasp the passer she realizes how old and dirty the paper is, she starts to unfold it and dust off the years. She lifts it to the light and before her very eyes a the paper is snatched away by the most acrobatic monkey she’s ever seen. Petra runs through the ancient cave out to the opening hoping to even catch a glimpse of the thieving monkey. Much to her dismay she saw just the open jungle and no movement about. What was she to do? How would she be able to find this monkey? Could she? Likely not but she couldn’t just give up after all this. She was so infused with rage she began to throw sticks about left and right! Screaming to the sky, tears of anger began the streak down her cheeks. Why didn’t her mom just be normal? Why couldn’t she had stay home, clean the house and make crafts with young Petra? She just wanted to have a normal upbringing but since the age of 6 she knew that would never be possible for her.

Rigor Mortis had already set in but she managed to pry the piece of paper out of the victims cold lifeless hand. It was a note the words of which struck Lucille’s mind and shattered her fabric of reality sending her into a bout of madness.

She rolled around in the dirt maniacal laughter sounding from her deep red lips as the note was clutched tightly to her chest.

Her uncle Phinnias looked at her. A pitiful look across his face he tried to calm her down as the insanity wrapped Lucille’s mind

“Gh... Gh... Ghouls did this” those were the only words that escaped Lucille’s mouth

Phinnias gasped, he had heard of the existence of ghouls but the mangled torso of the corpse next to them and the note gave solid proof of their existence.

Phinnias escorted Lucille home where he sat her down with a hot cup of coffee. Together they sat the hearth failing to warm the atmosphere between the two.

“We need to get them” Lucille’s voice perked up. It was the first words she had said in hours. Her hand reaching for Phinnias’s Lee Enfield rifle on the wall

“No” Phinnias slapped her hand away “ If we only go after them with bullets and anger we’ll only go the way of Scott”

The mention of his name struck Lucille’s sanity and she sunk back into the chair and grasped her coffee so hard the mug almost shattered and you could see the white of her fingers contrast with the sure burn marks from the hot porcelain.

Phinnias sighed and opened the note bracing for the worst. It read:

Dear Lucille

My house is under siege from those horrible undead. I probably won’t last long

I love you Scott

In the corner was a stain of blood. Scott’s blood the sadness gripped his mind. Mere 10 hours from now both Scott and Lucille would have been bride and groom but now that dream was destined to die

He knew why she felt so empty as the mug shattered in Lucille’s grip. He didn’t attempt to stop her as she changed out into the night rifle in hand determined to either avenge her late fiancé or join him.

The tears flowed Steadily as she bowed her head in mourning. No longer was her mother calling her in for supper, Telling her stories Of the glory days.

No longer was her mother walking along the path, Wheelbarrow in hand as the hawk soared above.

She was born from a family of farmers, Hard working; back-breaking; sweat soaked farmers. Simple lives, changed.

Like birds in winter she migrated away from her mother, for a better life and a family.

The times were changing yet her mother remained unchanged- Hard-working back breaking strong sun-tanned farmer. Natural. Lonely. Sad.

Her mother bore the heartbreak of a lost son; his widowed wife.

Spring came and went, her mother still alone. Yet soon her mother’s calloused hands would embrace the separated strands of her family- her grandchildren once again.

Her mother’s tears dripped, Ripped too quickly away from her family. Yet they dried when she cried once again In joy. This time, her mother’s great-grandchildren visited. Just two.
Her grandchildren. Innocent. Smiling.

The next visit bore a third child. This was the last visit. Her mother’s heart ached; there were still five children. Part of her mother’s flesh, blood and bone. Great-grandchildren she would yearn to but never see.

Her mother’s breath grew shallow, eyes blurred and hands shaking. Peacefully, her mother passed in the night.

There her mother flew a glorious hawk, soaring above her loved ones. Watchful and protecting. Free.

Her mother was found with a slip of paper. The words written in her native tongue. Not just words but the names of the loved ones she still had yet to meet.

R.I.P

I under-covered the paper and revealed a phrases attached with a small rusted key. The phrase said “Time shall follow to those who waited patiently. The answer to the family fortune is hidden near the grave.” I said my goodbyes to my devilish brother Marvin‘s lifeless body being wasted away in the rain.

When I finally got home, cleaned myself up and grab my rain coat to leave back out. I got in my car and started making the 30 minute trip to my great grandmothers grave. During the drive I couldn’t think of anything except how the family fortune was kept a secret from only me. “Why me?”

I arrived to my great grandmother grave site at precisely 10:34 p.m. I never knew much about my great grandmother, I was always only told she was a good person. When I got to stoned building my grandmother was oddly in, I wouldn’t open when I pulled hard on the door. No matter what I tried I wouldn’t nudge. So I took out the part I took from my brother and review the phases over and over again, but I remained puzzled. I took my cellphone out to get a better look at the door, since the light were starting to become dim. On the door it read my grandmothers name is big bold letters, but this times she had two last names. It said “Here lies the body of Mrs. Angelina Ginadya Randall-Kilvilloshiki.” The last name Kilvilloshki confused me, and I was unsure if I went to the right place. I was shocked I never heard of this last name before, so I said it out loud “Angelina Ginadya Randall-Kilvilloshiki,” and the old stoned doors begun to slowly open and bright lights began to come on.

I stepped inside only to my grandmother in a clear casket with a beautiful dress on and Jewelry. It looked as if she was sleeping, her skin looked completely flawless. There seemed to be flowers covered in some type of wax everywhere. When I walked towards the casket I noticed my great grandmother had both of her hands wrapped around a tiny wood box painted pink.

I quickly reached into my pockets and grabbed the rusted key, then tried to open the casket, but it wouldn’t. I then started looking more around the casket for any clues of how to open it and eventually I found it. On the bottom left of the casket by my great grandmothers feet it said, “those of the family who know the phrase will reveal the secret the family has forbidden.”

I reached into my pocket and read the phrase “Time shall follow to those who waited patiently. The answer the family fortune is hidden near the grave.” The top the casket separated and glass shattered. My once flawless grandmother skinned seemed to wither away within seconds it seemed. I quickly grabbed the box from her hands by prying each of her fingered off.

Hand set like stone Body lying all alone Paper stiff in his hand Things obviously not gone as planned Red eyes all bloodshot With the paper she fought A scrawl on the note She pulled on her coat She left the death site Depressed she walked into the night