The Revival

Well would you look at that? Nina actually posted something for short story sunday. It's a miracle. Oh, and in a stunning turn of events, this story is back to creepy again!

“The money first,” the girl says. Her eyes are each a deep black abyss. The man in the trench coat hands her several crumpled hundred dollar bills.

“Half until I can see what you do,” he says. The girl nods her head. She stares down at the grave in front of her. The ground is made of freshly packed dirt and the tombstone is a shining beacon of marble-white in the moonlight. She stretches out her arm over the grave, fingers splayed. The ground stirs under her hand. For a moment nothing happens, but then white fleshy fingers claw their way out of the dirt like worms in rain. An arm follows the hands and then a face begins to emerge, caked brown with mud, eyes startled and bright under the filth.

“Where am I?” the face croaks. It’s voice sounds unused and scratchy. A woman. She tugs the rest of her body out of the grave. Her dress, once a vibrant red, is dulled by a coating of dust. The man in the trench coat tosses the remaining money at the girl and throws his arms around the woman. He buries his face in her stringy hair and holds her as she sobs against him. When the man looks back at the girl she is gone.