Wandering in the gloomy cemetery, I read the inscribed last words of the dead. Grief is stricken in this small land of stone.

Last words inscribed on stone read:

_I love you. _

__

__

_Farewell. _

__

__

_Time pasted too fast. _

The inscriptions bring me heaviness, settling sadness upon my bones. But my eyes stop on one inscription that brings terror and paleness to my face.

_I will find the one who condemned me and seek my revenge!_

My hesitate eyes find the name of the person buried beneath; Edmond Tempest, Born 1867 Died 1889.

My brain hums with anxiety at the familiar name, bringing me back to a time when I knew Edmond as a schoolboy. At that time, he was kind and generous…what could’ve happened to make him grow so cold with revenge?

“Hello, Izevel…” a voice whispers from behind.

I turn in haste, my eyes searching for the voice, and they land on a tall man with a familiar smile.

“Edmond…” I mutter, in utter disbelief, glancing at his grave.

Edmond walks closer, vitality visible within him. He is not dead.

“How?” I manage to say.

“The body does not find death until revenge is sought,” he says. “I didn’t die the night they pronounced me dead from stab wounds, but everyone believes I did, which I am quite thankful for. My enemies will never see me coming, making revenge oh so delightful.”

He smiles with bloodlust and excitement.

I gulp and try putting distance between us.

“I’m sorry, Iz, but I can’t let you go knowing you know I am living. It would ruin my plans,” Edmond says with dreadful softness.

“Do not kill me, I beg,” I cry.

Edmond shakes his head. “Oh, I would never kill someone who has been as kind as you have Iz. I am only asking for you to be my accomplice…or to forever hide this secret.”

I think over his words.

“I’ll help you, Edmond, to fulfill your revenge if you promise no blood to be shed on my hands,” I say.

“I promise,” he assures.