The Crow-A Second Chance

Chapter One

A chilled autumnal gust swept through the cemetery, whispering a secret song of old. The trees' dead leaves that had piled up on the ground were sent into a world-wind by the sudden breeze, causing new heaps of the trees' leaves to gather up once more. A first glance, it would appear to look like your typical cemetery, but if one were to venture further into the churchyard, they would have found a slight which would look like it belonged in some dark, Gothic novel, or in the works from Edgar Allan Po perhaps.

The weary body of Eric Draven sat slouched against the gravestone of his beloved, Shelly Webster. Weak, tired and drained of all energy, due to the battle on the church roof from not a mere few minutes ago, and deep stab wound caused by Top Dollar, the revenge-seeking man fell into in deep, death-like peaceful slumber, knowing the reason he had been granted a second life, was fulfilled. What the crow had given him, a chance: a chance for revenge and justness to be severed where it was need. The people responsible for his own and his fiancee's untimely deaths, had been handed what they deserved. His young friend Sarah was safe and out of harm's way, herself and her mother. In the dead man's eyes, all in his world, was well.

A gentle, warm touch upon his head caused him to stir awake from his deathly sleep, weary eyes blinking in disbelief at the slight in front of him. She stood above him like an angel; clagged in a long white, tight fitted dress, arm still stretched out resting on his damp hair, a warm, golden aura surrounded her, illuminating the small space between them. A smile, a smile he had seen a hundred times, and yet every time he was met with the slight, it made his soul sore higher above the clouds and his heartbeat faster, a smile he never got tired of seeing met his face, she had come.

Shelly Webster, she had come for him, come to take him back,  to let the earth reclaim his weary, drained body and be reunited with her once again. She bent down to him, a loving hand reaching across his rain, paint-streaked face, the rejuvenating feeling of life and energy flooding back into his body at the touch of her hand. Sitting on her knees, she continued to bend down, meeting his lips. They hugged each other tightly, as if afraid one small movement might cause the other to dissipate into the cold October night.

A second gust of autumnal leaves brushed over the two figures, huddled down by the two headstones,  colder than the first, compelled Eric's closed eyes to open. Like waking up from a pleasant dream, he awoke, his eyes meeting his other halves' dark hazel eyes, a scene of sorrow lay embedded within them. The figure of Shelly seemed to disappear into the bleak night, her tender, warm touch leaving his face, the feeling sinking deep into his skin.

No...where are you going? Don't leave me............

He reached a handout for hers, as if to try and bring her dissipating body back to him. Her face was the last thing to go, her smile become ever so slightly sad, eyes filling with tears, the illuminating light she had caused left with her, leaving Eric in darkness and solitude. A heavy sensation of sorrow seemed to wash over him, sorrow and confusion. Feeling a surge of energy once more caused him to stand up, taking a few steps from the lonely graves, looking around for her.

"Shelly....." His voice was scarcely above a whisper. She was gone, like dew on the grass in the morning of the rising sun. The only indication it hadn't been a hallucination, that they had truly been together for just a few precious moments was the fading warmth on the side of his face. A noise came from behind, a flap of wings, the faint click of talons gripping on a gravel headstone gave him the answer he required right now. 

Why......why?

He whipped round and faced the supernatural bird. Its' wing where it had been shot previously now looked to be fully healed. It stared at him, giving him no answer to his question. Eric walked towards it, his head bowing down at the engraved tombstone of Shelly Webster in front of him. "Why? Why am I still here? I did everything that was need to be done. She came back for me..... She...." It was then did Eric comprehend why he saw Shelly. She wasn't coming back for him, she was saying....goodbye? No. He refused to believe that. No, no. She wasn't say farewell to him, he wasn't going to let that happen. He had lost her once; he wasn't going to lose her a second time.

"I'm the one you should be askin'...." A rough, gritty voice filled the air, along with a presence Eric instantly knew who the owner of the voice was. "Seeing as I'm one who brought you back." Slowly lifting his head, he turned around and met the figure of the Skull Cowboy, veiled by the shadow of a tree. A bitter laugh escaped Eric as he tiled his head back and looked up at the bleak night sky. "Of course......you told me what would happen if I save Sarah. But, please," He asked the cowboy in a cynical tone.

"Answer me this question if you can." He turned to face the lost soul. "I wasn't done. There was one left, all along. Which, correct me if I'm wrong," Eric began to walk slowly towards him, feeling nothing but anger and pain fill his soul.

"Would have meant I couldn't have joined....." His voice faltered at the thought of uttering her name. ".....Shelly, even if hadn't I saved Sarah. So enlighten me, how would of that worked out?" Now he stood only a few inches away from The Skull Cowboy's face, his voice dangerously low. He didn't care if the cowboy grew angry at him, Eric was angry at him for bringing him back. He was the one who told the crow to bring him back, otherwise he'd still be with Shelly. Now, for a second time, he had lost her. For a second time he was alone in the world, the night sky without the moon, his light in the darkness leading the path. A cause without effect. And it was because he chose to bring Eric back to avenge their brutal deaths.

The cowboy said nothing, only stare darkly into Eric's soul, leaving what felt like a burning hole that had once held Shelly's love. Silence surrounded the pair like blanket, the faint cry of sirens from the other side of the church and the chilling whisper of the wind reminded Eric none of this was a nightmare. Finally, the Skull Cowboy's harsh, raspy voice gave him an answer. "That was something I never knew. Only you knew who had to be dealt with." He said harshly.

"Like hell you didn't know." Eric turned away and began to pace among the graves. The crow still sat resting on a tombstone, watching the two with dark, beady eyes. "I warned you what the consequences would be if you help the girl! You had a choice to make-"

"I had to!" He cut off the Skull Cowboy, fury and anguish taking control of his voice. "I couldn't leave her. And that you do know." He glared darkly. The cowboy sighed and stepped a few paces out of the tree's shadow. "You made your choice by helping the girl, twice you were warned, it wasn't your job to help the living." Eric said nothing, staring out beyond the cemetery and into the desolate city. Even without the crow guiding him, he could feel the anguish and sorrows of all those who lived there. The cowboy shook his head. "But since you broke the rules, then let it be your job to work for the living then." He spoke bitterly.

"Help those who have suffered as you have, put the wrong things right and seek out those who cause injustice." He told the dark avenger, with little enthusiasm. "If you help enough souls, maybe......" The cowboy met Eric's eyes; a feeling of unease filled his mind. "I can.....return back to Shelly?" He dared to ask. A moment ago, he had lost hope and abandoned all thoughts of ever seeing Shelly again, any possibility of being held in her sweet, angelic embrace. But now, there was a way, a chance that it could be possible. That was enough for a glimmer of hope, just a small flame to be rekindled again within him.

"You broke one too many rules of the dead," He reminded Eric harshly. "So let that be your sentence and your final chance at returning to the afterlife." The cowboy began to stride towards Eric; dark, soulless eyes never leaving his. Yet Eric did not back away, he stood firm and tall, feeling the full effect of the crow's power return to his body. Before he fully realized what had happen, the Skull Cowboy reached where Eric stood, and walked through his body, like he was nothing but smoke. Stumbling back, he turned to watch the immortal continue walking on.

"Now you work for the land of the living." The cowboy said harshly without looking back. "Are there any rules that apply this time?" Eric asked humorlessly. "Only one," His voice seemed to now echo around the cemetery, even though the cowboy himself looked as if he began to dematerialised into the night.
"Watch out for the snakes."