Ghastly Entanglement Read online

Ghastly Entanglement, Copyright © 2014 NK Layne

  Cover Design by NK Layne

  Cover Illustration by Schmorky: butthug.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written consent of the publisher, except where permitted by law.

  Author Note:

  I have to give mad props to Schmorky! It is their illustration that inspired this short story. Go check out their art! butthug.com

  GHASTLY ENTANGLEMENT

  Liz’s burial was an anti-climatic memory. First, they put her corpse in a casket. Then a team of professional hole diggers dug a big hole. And, lastly, she was plopped into such hole. It was so much more an act of hygiene than anything spiritual. As a corpse, Liz was a cesspool of disease. The heart of all this was nothing other than anti-plague prevention.

 

  The day after her burial, Liz drifted around the graveyard. That post-corpse condition had a far more vague meaning. She had some ideas on corpsehood but she had no clue what this was. Ghosthood, she guessed, but what was that? Was it a vengeance thing or a friendly thing or what?

  Was the Big Man in the clouds just dicking around?

  The vast graveyard expanded outwards, for as far as she could see. She searched for something beyond the macabre, a pleasant something in her death.

  That’s when she bumped into Lilah.

  Lilah was the most beautiful thing Liz ever saw in death, and that is no insult to her. She was also the most beautiful thing Liz ever saw in life, but she never expected to spend infinity with her.

  As ghosts, Lilah and Liz lost all opacities and hues. They were floating thick outlines with nothing on the inside like empty coloring books. Even as a ghost, Lilah was a curly-q cutie. From her bouncing perm, plump cheeks, button nose, and notable ass, Lilah was like a spring. Death made her translucent, but she kept her bounce.

  In life, Lilah was the sweet, sexy neighbor that Liz's marriage kept her away from. Though they barely made it past the small talk zone, Liz found Lilah refreshing and energizing. She did hunger for intimacy, but never ventured. Her marriage couldn’t bare it. Liz's marriage used to be so important to her.

  But in death, Liz could express her affections. Finally.

  Lilah sung out Liz’s name as she glided closer.

  “I never thought you would be so enthusiastic to meet fresh fertilizer,” said Liz.

  “I can’t believe you are here! Liz, it has been seven months.”

  “Heh, yeah. I know.” Liz smirked. “I missed you. But I’m sure you seduced a living dead cutie as soon as you went ghost.”

  “No.” Lilah stared down at her foot’s shape. “I been alone for seven months.”

  “Jeez. Here I was, happy to not be alone and--” Liz bit down on her lower lip. Lilah’s heavy words were like a push back in the grave. “Fuck, I’m so sorry that you went through that.”

  “I’m actually okay.” Lilah nudged a curl behind her ear. “I mean, at least it’s you.”

  Liz petted Lilah's perm while bringing her closer. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Lilah's floating grin. It's weird how in life that would scare her, but in death it was something close to warmth. “I'm glad I can feel you.”

  Lilah's jaw snapped as she yawned, just like when she was alive. As she gripped Liz's hand, weightlessness pulsed through them.

  The moon ballooned into view. “I'm tired.” Lilah grinned as she let her go. She curled around a headstone and gestured towards Liz.

  She was so palpable. Lilah was alluring, even as an outline, lively even without life. She was Liz's hidden secret that she didn’t have to hide any longer.

  Liz curled around Lilah and breathed it all in: the rusty graves, deep mulch, and organic seeds of hope. Perhaps her life’s marriage was not her death’s responsibility.

  * * *

  When Liz was alive, Lilah was a daydream, her sanity’s picker upper. Her bouncing curls and plush smile interrupted the monotonous PTO meetings, grocery shopping. When Liz woke up with the fantasy, she had to pine for something else.

  Lilah was only herself. There was no way she could fulfill every nook in Liz's life that ceased to exist when she died. Lilah was not Liz's husband, kids, mother, best friend, and sister. She was just Lilah and Liz missed her entire universe.

  Liz woke up to Lilah, calling her name from underneath a cherry blossom tree. “Wake up, sleepy-head. It is a beautiful day to be alive!”

  Petals pelted right through Lilah's floating shape. Liz rolled her eyes.

  The previous day, Liz fantasized about rolling around the boneyard, with Lilah, forever. That morning, Liz was annoyed with how morbid that was. It was two days after her burial and she started to feel the heaviness.

  If she never saw all those she loved again, then weren’t they as good as dead? If mourning was painful because spending the rest of time without a loved one was too much to bear, then fuck if Liz wasn’t aching for every loved one she just lost.

  Then there was Lilah, dancing beneath the cherry blossom tree, like a forest of tombstones weren’t visible through her translucent shape. Lilah was barely in Liz’s life, only in her life's thoughts. Why was she here? Why was she the only one Liz had left?

  “What's up, hun?” Lilah's voice was as light and fluttery as ever.

  Liz rolled her wedding ring around her index finger. “Doesn’t this mean I’m still married to Roy? What are we doing?”

  “What about m--”

  A thumping noise approached. “Do you hear those footsteps?” asked Liz.

  Lilah shook her head.

  Liz turned towards the approaching silhouette. “And so we approach ghost threesome o’clock.”

  “What are you talking about? Are you messing with me?”

  “Someone is ashamed of their ghost threesome fantasies.” Liz stuck her tongue out.

  “No, well, I mean...” Lilah lightly pulled on a chunk of her perm. “The last time I heard any footsteps at all, I was oxidizing.”

  “Oh. You been alone alone.”

  “Yeah. Don’t even know who mourned me.” Lilah lowered her gaze. “Don’t even know if you visited me.”

  “I was at your burial.” The ground vibrated as the silhouette became clearer. “It’s coming.”

  Lilah’s mouth fell agape, as if she could suck out the approaching figure’s friendship.

  Liz jerked into herself as she whispered, “Roy.”

  Lilah cocked a confused glance at Liz’s curled posture. “Really? I don’t see.”

  Liz was so close to Roy’s jaw bone -- angular even after all the years and weight -- she could kiss it. He was all colored in, with correct shade and hue. Still alive.

  Liz reached out to his hefty shoulders instead, but her fingers slipped inside. She whimpered.

  Roy continued to walk down the dirt path that headed deeper into the graveyard. As he moved, his arm went right through Lilah’s chest, but she didn’t react at all.

  Liz stared at his every fucking contour and wailed. “Rooooy.” She wailed his name out again and again, creating a chamber choir of pleas. “Roooy. I’m sorry.”

  “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe he can’t hear me. Lilah, I can’t... we have to follow him. He needs to hear me,” Liz said to Lilah.

  Lilah rubbed Liz’s shoulder. “Um. You were saying something?”

  “What do you mean?” If Lilah and Roy couldn’t understand Liz’s cries for forgiveness, then was her death its own little world? In life, Liz had trouble expressing fear of death with her peers. Irrational as it might be, Liz felt like she was the
only one aware of mortality. The only one who gazed up at Death’s face. Perhaps everyone could see it but no one could express it. Had that loneliness transcended to death itself? Would her personal relationship with death be contained to moments of solitude, even though she was dead? Could Liz only hear her death’s intimacy?

  “You sound like screeching wind,” said Lilah.

  Not having her husband hear her was painful, but it wasn’t the first time Liz felt that wound. But Lilah? Now, in the afterlife, Liz had to deal with more isolation? Wasn’t that over? Has the reciprocal warmth started?

  * * *

  Roy walked through the girls as he followed the dirt path. Lilah and Liz followed. They were still unsure why Liz could see him and Lilah could not, and what that meant. Besides Lilah and Roy, Liz couldn’t see anyone else, living or dead. She was sure her senses were limited. It was a sunny spring day with a nice brisk breeze; a perfect day to visit loved ones. It was unlikely that Roy was the only person here. Plus, where were the other ghosts?

  As they passed an empty grave, Roy lowered his head. Liz saw nothing besides a solitary hole in the ground, but it was possible that they walked right through a burial. She lowered her head as well, until Roy made a quick movement to the side.

  He stopped short. His knees collapsed.

  Lilah reached out to the shaking Liz. Tears pooled around Roy’s cheekbones.

  Liz rubbed Lilah’s hand but her mental attention was focused on Roy, and the headstone he huddled over. Her stomach clenched as she read it: Elizabeth A Barrett 1963 - 2014.

  She heaved, expecting a storm of tears, but none came. Roy poured mucus, but Liz’s mourning was dry as sandpaper.

  * * *

  Liz nuzzled into Lilah’s clavicle. Watching her husband mourn, pick himself up from the grave, and then walk away to his life helped her own death seep in. Yet, as Lilah rubbed her hair, Liz couldn’t deny it. She was dead but this was still an existence. She had lost life but her energy was still buzzing. How else could she explain the infatuation?

  “What do you think?” She asked Lilah.

  “Not my death.” Lilah rubbed imaginary tears off Liz’s dry cheeks. “Not my death. Not my struggle. I don’t know what to say.”

  “Please. Something?”

  “Jealous. Guess I’m petty because... jealous. I dealt with this shit all alone. Look at all the people you get.”

  “So, is this how the rest of my death will be like?” Liz took Lilah’s hand off her face and clutched it. “You and me, haunting my ex.”

  Lilah shrugged. “Eh, I’m a fetus.”

  Liz jerked back to laugh. “What?”

  “I’ve had forty-four years of life and only seven months of death under my belt. In death-speak, I’m pretty much a fetus. I only know one thing, Liz. I never saw my husband. I mean honestly, I stopped thinking about him after just a couple of months. But you. Haven’t stopped.”

  “Why are you so sweet to me?”

  “Must have eaten too many cherry blossom petals. It comes easy.”

  Liz grabbed Lilah’s hand. “Hey. I’m sorry. I got way too caught up with Roy.”

  Lilah bit down her lower lip in a pregnant silence.

  “No. I...” Liz grappled with the air.

  Lilah’s squirmed into herself. Liz’s guts spasmed. If Lilah weren’t here, Roy would have crippled her. The smoothness she felt when she looks in Lilah’s eyes -- she wanted Lilah to feel the same way.

  “Let me do something for you,” said Liz.

  Lilah rubbed Liz’s knuckles. “I’m fine.”

  “Please,” Liz said.

  Lilah nodded, letting Liz grab her hand and take her back up the dirt path.

  * * *

  Pink cherry blossom petals drifted eastwards, giving the breeze an adorned visibility. Lilah stuck out her tongue, like the petals were snowflakes, and Liz giggled. Up to that point, the girls were nothing but pouts and frowns.

  Liz got it. One day, she snuggled Lilah to sleep. The next, she was too obsessed with the unattainable to be flirty. How can Lilah trust Liz’s affections again? No, this was totally fair.

  Thing was, Lilah was unprecedented. Just shortly earlier, Liz mourned her entire life. Only Lilah could turn that weighted energy into something positive. Something to laugh about.

  Liz gathered petals from the ground. “Making you something. Something really good. Something to express all that makes me tongue-tied and crazy.”

  “Tongue-tied. Check.”

  Liz folded the petals with care. She bent each one inwards and out until they formed an abstract geometric shape. She repeated the motions, folding each petal.

  Flower-origami was the icebreaker activity at Lilah’s last PTO meeting. She died before the next one. Mid-meeting Lilah had already created a pile of flower-origami. Liz, on the other hand, tore every single petal. Noticing this, Lilah approached Liz. She explained, with patience and attention, the correct steps. Over and over. Liz still fumbled, until Lilah adjusted her hand to a more delicate posture. This was the first time they touched each other. When Liz accomplished her flower art their smiles were so close they could have kissed.

  “Remember?” Liz asked.

  “Yes. The month before my death. Kind of unforgettable stuff.”

  “I was just starting to get the courage. To really talk to you, I mean. And then you died.”

  Lilah brought an origami to her chest. “What do they mean?”

  “Don’t they fill you with hope?”

  Lilah nodded.

  “You are well-placed hope. I hoped I would see you again, so badly, and now I have you. Forever, it seems.”

  “Me too. I mean, I hoped the same.”

  Liz pushed a curl out of Lilah’s eyes with a smirk. “I think I know why I see you Lilah. I’m in love with you. I see everyone I’m in love with.”

  “You are so impressive.” Lilah rubbed noses with Liz. “It took me six months of death before I realized what my life was missing.”

  “And what was that?”

  “You.” Lilah leaned forward and Liz accepted her embrace. Their kiss was like a long legato, each sensation its own thought out note vibrating between them.

  Life isn’t forever, but death is and Liz couldn’t hope for a more meaningful death.

  -----------------------------------------------------

  About the Author

  Nk Layne sees the world through queer brushstrokes, infinite rainbows, demonic cartoons, gory afternoons, and a veil of moss.

  Also by this author:

  Achievement Tentantacle Lust: PWP M/M/M tentacle/dub-con smut

  Twitter: @_indelible

  Goodreads: goodreads.com/indelible

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