Chapter 6: Can't stay long

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31st October 1999


A small figure emerged from beneath the scorching, searing, scalding lava, barely an hour after little Lula Jackson's death. The man was long gone from the mine shaft, and everything was as silent as a graveyard.


The figure pushed herself to her feet, wobbling slightly as she did so, as if she had just awoken from a deep sleep. The brightness of the lava stung her eyes as she rubbed them, looking around to try and figure out what was going on. She had been in darkness for what felt like forever, but was only about an hour. The first thought that came to her in that moment was:


'I'm supposed to be dead.'


Her once blonde hair was a beautiful fiery color, glowing with warmth. It reached just past her shoulders, but looked thicker and messier than it had done before her death. Her skin was the color of white-hot metal; flawless, without any trace of previous injuries whatsoever. And her eyes were the color of blood: a deep red which seemed to glow somewhat. Her canine teeth appeared to look sharper: like fangs.


Lula Jackson had been changed forever.


With one hand on the wall to steady herself, Lula began to walk up and out of the mine shaft. She wasn't sure where to go, or what to do. After all, she was supposed to have died, and this made absolutely no sense. 


As she made it to the entrance of the mine, the surprisingly bright light from the outside felt blinding. She squinted, using one hand to shade her eyes as she stepped out into the street. She looked around and saw nobody. The curtains of each house had been drawn shut.


It was like they were trying to keep something out by pretending there was nobody there, or maybe it was because each and every person was ashamed at not doing anything to help a small child being strangled in the street. A child who had no way of really helping herself; defenseless and too young to die, but left to the mercy of a man who enjoyed the pain of others and destroying lives.


Maybe, if not for the cowardice of the passers by and spectators, Lula Jackson could have lived.

That may have been possible. But why would she want to live, knowing she was going to be all alone forever?

She thought there may have been a chance that she could see her family again in some sort of afterlife, but instead, she was forced back into a world she didn't want to be a part of.


Her blue dress was somehow intact. The color was the only thing that had changed. Instead of the material burning away due to the lava, it had turned pitch black, as if it had been burn to a crisp without being destroyed. That wasn't the only thing that should have been destroyed that day.


Lula made her way down the street towards her house, keeping her head down. She wasn't sure if she enjoyed or hated the dead silence of the village. In some ways, she found it peaceful, but in other ways, she wanted to see someone else. It didn't matter who it was; she just wanted to feel like she wasn't alone in the world.


She walked into her house through the already wide open front door, which looked as if it had been torn off its hinges. Floorboards creaked and groaned as she wandered around the downstairs area, checking each room. Everything looked as it had done before Lula had left the house that morning.

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