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“Moon, tell me if I could
Send up my heart to you?
So, when I die, which I must do
Could it shine down here with you?”
My Love is Mine All Mine - Mitski
With the machine already set to maximum bronzing, it was only a matter of time before the shrewd smell of burning flesh started to fill the tiny shed where he was camped out. Even though his senses were not like they were when he was living, he yearned for the chance to fully experience the extent of his lovers' devotion to him.
What is devotion if not following someone into death? An eternal life is nothing when you cannot rest with the one in which you yearn for.
Lisa had taught him that such displays of affection were less common in today’s day and age. That was the first lesson that was given to him by his mortal lover, just minutes after the body of her new stepmother was buried deep into the site of his former grave.
He knew from the beginning that she was not meant for this time, her expressions of love being akin to the witches in the 17th century. And just like those witches of old times, she had also gone up in flames to the extent of someone else.
The sound of the faraway sirens drew him back to his current situation, watching the flames rise atop the tanning bed where his lover lay deceased. He quickly stands from his chair and lifts the lid of the flaming bed, lucky enough that his veins are empty of blood and the feeling on his sewed-on hand was almost nothing.
The first thing that he noticed was the peaceful expression that had fallen upon her face. Even when faced with certain death she still stood true to her statement that she was not afraid. Her eyes were closed, and if her skin was not covered in raised electric marks and charred skin he would think that she was simply sleeping.
He took in her once curled strands that now stood frayed and charred from the flames that still licked at her skin. Her hands, which were being held over her chest as though she was laying in her casket, which I guess she is, were completely devoid of her usual pale skin, and were now exposing her tendons.
The sirens were loud enough now to be worrying, momentarily distracting him from his visual exploration of his new Lisa. With haste and strength that his newly restored muscles were not used to, he began to hoist Lisa out of the bed that she was lying in, being careful not to pull back any exposed tissue.
The fear of being caught weighing heavily in the back of his mind, he quickly hoisted her into a bridal carry, resembling some sort of macabre artwork from the horror novels he would read as a child. An undead man and his dead bride-to-be, a match made in the ruins of a bachelor’s graveyard.
A match that represents the eternity they are willing to spend with each other.
He hurried to escape from the flames and sirens that were beginning to surround them, lifting the latch and opening the door with her still lying motionless in his arms. The slamming of the door lifting encouraged him to retreat to the forest with his lover, leaving the remains of the ruined shed for the police to find when they arrived.
He hopes that they don’t come looking for her body, perhaps even hypothesizing that an animal spotted the remains of the scorched girl and carried it off quickly for dinner. While walking through the mud and leaves left on the forest ground, he realized that the only one who would be willing to search for her would be her step-sister.
Even then, he’s sure that Taffy already knows what happened to the body of her once sister and would prefer to leave her with him if given the choice.
She’s already been traumatized by him, if murdering her boyfriend while she was lying in bed next to him wasn’t enough, he doubted that she would want to see the reanimated corpse of her recently deceased sister.
Running his hands over the raised cooling skin of her lower thighs was enough to put his thoughts back into the present, with the crunching of twigs under his boots and the sound of sirens growing quieter the further he walked away from the shed and towards his former grave.
The grave wasn’t just his anymore, holding four other bodies besides his own from his recent endeavors. Her stepmother was the one who hoped to condemn Lisa to the restraints of an unwelcoming home. Her lab partner, of whom a lesson needed to be taught. (The fourth being an unsuspecting cop, but she just happened to be there at the wrong time).
And the third, Michael Trent. The only thing Michael was good for was showing Lisa that she deserved better than edgy scum like him.
The only redeemed qualities they shared were the parts that went into restoring him and satisfying his lover.
This wasn’t where he was taking her, for she would not be staying dead long enough to even finish digging the grave. He dove his head under the police tape to take a moment and view the bodies lying in the pit where he once lay. Nothing and nobody that needed to be remembered once they were finally together.
After passing through the graveyard, he turned to the right where Lisa once spoke of a place she enjoyed to be at when not tending to his grave. She mentioned how her mother would take her here before the axe was split through her innocent skull.
That was the last time that she’d been to the open field of flowers and rotting stumps, the remains of once thriving trees. They were cut down mere weeks before the murder took place, almost acting as an omen.
He places her gently onto the field of pansies and convolvulus’, making sure not to crush the delicate, pastel-colored petals and taking care to put her peeling skin back into its original place, lest she reanimates similar to how he did. Falling apart both physically and emotionally, because raising from the dead alone isn’t enough.
Taking the jump starter from the bag strapped across his back, he prepares to connect the wires to her decaying flesh. Hesitation is not present on his face, only longing to hear Lisa’s voice again.
The explicit instructions she had given him rang out in his head as he clipped the wires onto the exposed flesh of her fingers.
“Make sure that you fully connect the machine to me or I’ll just become a pile of burnt flesh instead of your new wife!”
Just knowing she trusted him enough to put her life, well, her afterlife, in his hands encouraged him to finish connecting the wires to any area of the body that had been burnt badly enough to melt and expose the bones peeking through.
Standing back to admire his work, he once more took the opportunity to look over his love, his Lisa, in her current calm state. His eyes flicked slowly across her scarring face, down her melted shoulders, her ribcage with the flesh melted off, the bubbling sores across her upper thighs, and finally the exposed bones laying over her shins.
As he flicks the electricity on and watches his Lisa light up with the sparks from the starter box he realizes that he has never seen anything more beautiful.