The Restless Corpse of Sunset Shimmer

by boardgamebrony

Don't Turn Your Back (Complete Story)

The corpse of the red-haired woman in the leather jacket sat hunched over the table in the abandoned study. An urban explorer by the name of Keith examined the body with a flashlight casting shadows across the back-end of the bookcases. He was careful not to touch anything.

“Holy shit...” he whispered. He worried that a loud sound might disrupt the scene and...and what? He couldn’t think of a reason. But something within him stirred. The dead body was bad enough. But it was immobile. The blood looked like it had been dry for a long time. If she had been killed, then whoever did was most likely gone by now.

There was a revolver on the table near her left hand. He wanted to check it and see if it had been fired, but when he looked at the head of the woman, there were no entry or exit wounds. The head was fully intact. He placed his hand near her mouth for a full minute. No breathe came out. The body did not move up and down peacefully as one would when asleep. And yet, there was a blindfold around her eyes. Keith was struck by the overpowering urge to remove it and see the stare hidden underneath. His hands absentmindedly touched the edge of the cloth. He shuddered and pulled back.

No way. Cops will think I did it, he thought. He flashed the beam of light underneath her arms and saw a book underneath her head. There was a small glow coming from within it. A pen was still in the right hand of the woman. The glow flashed again within the book. Keith wanted to remove it, but the woman’s head was resting on it. He’d have to move her.

Is there a phone stuck in the pages of the book? He thought as he heard it vibrate with each pulse of light. He grabbed the book’s edge and waited. Sure enough, the vibration came through. Somebody could be calling her. Somebody who misses her. Somebody who needs to know what happened. Keith reached underneath her neck with trembling fingers. He felt for a pulse. Nothing. He held her head up slightly. She was ice cold. He shivered. The book slid out easily from underneath her head as he placed her cheek on the table. He looked at the book…

Did the pen hand move? He stared with the light. Maybe...the whole body had been disturbed now, so it only made sense the posture would shift a little. He felt the book vibrate in his hand. It fell to the floor with a thud that caused his heart to leap into his chest. He shot the flashlight around the room, taking in the wooden doorframes, the large archways, and the soft beam of moonlight falling through the thin basement window. The wooden floors creaked underfoot as the beam fell across the body once more.

Her head was turned the other way. It stared at him with blindfolded eyes.

Keith shook his head. “No...no, I’m imagining things,” he said out loud. “You’re dead and that’s that.” He waited for a response while the flashlight shone around the body. It did not move. “Yeah...that’s what I thought.” He bent down to pick up the book and held it in his hand. He couldn’t read it while the flashlight was pointed at the woman, so he shone it at the book in front of him. Still, he turned his body towards the corpse. He felt safer that way.

The book had words on the most recent page. And they were still appearing.

Keith stared in disbelief at the message forming in front of him.

Is this a new type of wireless computer tablet? Keith thought. She must have died recently. He looked for a prompt on the page to input information. I need a pen. Sunset...that her name? She had one…

He shone the light upon Sunset’s body.

It was now on the floor at his feet, one hand outstretched an inch away from his boots.

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!” Keith screamed as he staggered back. The book fell out of his hands once more as it hit the ground next to the fallen body. He nearly lost his balance, but righted himself just in time. His breathing became rapid. He stared at the blindfolded form on the ground. “Why didn’t you make a sound?! What the fuck!” He bent down. “Hey, are you alive? Tell me you’re okay!” He hesitated, but reached out and tapped her on the shoulder, then immediately backed up about five feet. She did not move. He tapped the body with his foot. Nothing. “Oh come on!” He looked at her hands and saw both of them clutched tight. The pen was still in the right hand. He knelt down over it. “Sorry, but...I need this.” He grabbed the pen. The grip was iron. He stepped on the hand as he tugged. There was a loud crack from underneath his shoe as he gasped. “Oh shit,” he said. The pen came free. “I am so sorry.” He released his boot and turned away, unable to look at the form of the woman whose hand he just broke. He walked over to the book right next to her, picked it up and stopped in the corner of the room about thirty feet away from the body. He opened to the last page and started writing.

He stopped. Should he tell Sunset’s friend that he found her body? He shone the light back down at the table.

The body was missing.

He gasped and shone it closer to his feet. Sunset’s corpse was three feet away. It looked as though it were in mid-crawl, with back hunched up off the ground and gnarled hands propping her up. She stared at Keith with blindfolded eyes.

“Oh my god...” he said. The beam of light wavered as his hands shook. “Can you hear me? Stop fucking around!” He panned the light atop the table at the gun, then back down at Sunset. In the three seconds he had moved the beam, she had advanced two feet. She was now right below him, propped up on her hands, staring at him immobile behind a veil of cloth. He could not see her eyes but he felt her stare. His heart seized up. His breaths came out in quick gasps.

He kept the light trained on the unmoving body on the floor as he strafed around it around while moving towards the gun. He placed the book on the table and picked up the gun. He opened the chamber. There were no bullets. He dropped it back on the table with a useless clatter. Sunset still hadn’t moved. The book buzzed, nearly causing Keith’s heart to jump. He picked it up and moved it to the very edge of the light beam so the book wouldn’t block Sunset from his view. Words began to appear.

“No, she’s not fucking okay. She’s very far from fucking okay! Okay?” Keith yelled. Sunset remained idle. He looked at the doors down the hall and wondered how far he had to go to get to the front door. Sunset was no longer his problem. He’d let the police deal with her. He had cleared how many rooms? He was in the basement, with a staircase leading past the archway and up into the first floor. There were other rooms around, but his goal was to get out as quickly as possible.

He kept his gaze on Sunset as he moved across the room. In his haste, for the slightest of seconds, the beam left her position. When it fell upon her, Sunset’s head had turned in his direction. Her mouth was open. Red oozed out and pattered to the floor, breaking the silence.

Keith yelped in surprise. He turned up the stairs and bolted upwards. Thirty steps later he was at the top. He grabbed the door and turned.

Sunset was halfway up the steps, her mouth open in a snarl, leaking bile and blood onto the path she had made in silence. The dripping was the only sound Keith heard. He slammed the door closed and set the latch on it. “Fuck that,” he said through a breathless whisper. He heard a loud slam on the other side as he jumped back. Then, nothing. He ran through the house, desperately searching for the exit. He opened door after door, but found no room with a window and no way outside. He could have sworn the layout was completely different than when he had entered.

Then he found something. A door unlike any other. Thick mosaic glass reached up along its side. It was too thin to crawl through, but enough to see the light of cars passing by. Keith kicked the door. The firm construction resisted each hit. There were no dents. No signs of impact of any kind.

“HELPPPPPPP!” He yelled.

A loud bang issued from below. Then, the sound of something scraping its way through the ventilation system. “Oh no,” Keith said. He shone his light around. He found a room off to the side, closed the door and looked around. There were no vents, no windows and no other forms of entry. It was completely empty with featureless brown walls. Almost like he was underground.

Keith kept his light trained on the door as he backed up to the furthest end of the room. He pulled out the journal and wrote furiously.

Keith looked around again. There was a closet around the corner from the room door he hadn’t noticed at first. He ran over to it, closed the shutters and turned off his light. She can’t get me in here. She doesn’t know I’m here. The door is locked. The door is locked…

The book buzzed again. Its vibration was like a moaning creature calling out in the dark. “Fuck!” Keith whispered. He opened it, but couldn’t read it in the pitch blackness. He shone the light once more. There was nothing in the closet with him. He could see out the shutters. The room was still empty. He focused on the book.

Keith looked up from the book. The blood around Sunset’s body had been dry for a while. But was it her blood? Her body was ice cold. Her mouth bled when it was open. He crushed the bones in her hand and she didn’t move a muscle. What was she? He pulled out the pen and wrote furiously. The scratching of the point reminded him of fingernails on wood.

He shone the light through the shutters. Still nothing. His heart jumped when he thought he heard movement nearby. There was nothing in the closet with him. In fact, there was nothing in any room of the house he’d seen. He wrote quickly.

The door opened.

Keith instinctively turned off his light. NO. I LOCKED IT. He thought through panicked breaths. Then, he remembered his message. He had asked Twilight a question. Soon, she would respond. Soon, the book would vibrate. Like a dying animal, it would cry out. And Sunset would know where he was.

And like clockwork, the noise issued from the book.

Keith suppressed the urge to cry. He opened and closed the book quickly so the buzzing would stop. He waited for the end, feeling his eyes water. He had come so close.

But the door to the closet hadn’t been opened. Did she know he was in there? There was nowhere else to hide. Wait...she didn’t make noise when she moved. Did that mean anything she touched was silent too? He never heard her footsteps. He never heard her crawling across the creaky wooden floors. He moved his hand where the shutter should be. It wasn’t there. It was open.

He didn’t need to turn on the light to know she was staring right at him. He felt the hand close around his arm. Felt its crushing grip. Another moved towards his throat. He pushed back and the unseen body fell away from him. He turned on the light and fell to the ground with her iron grasp clutching his arm. Sunset lay sprawled on the floor. She did not move. The bandage over her eyes had fallen off and she now stared straight into the ceiling.

Keith felt tears falling across his face at the sight.

Sunset had no eyes. Empty, dirty sockets stood where her gaze should have been. And in one of them, something gold shone. Keith steeled himself and peered closer.

It was a key. Bloody and rusted, it sat neatly in the crevice where her left eye should have been.

With trembling hands, Keith reached down. He felt the red liquid around his fingers as he clenched the key in his grasp. He pulled it out with an audible squish of fluid. He stared at it. It looked like a house key.

He moved to stand but felt Sunset’s hand still around his arm. He tried hitting it to dislodge it, but she was like a statue. He saw the book on the floor next to him and pulled it close. Another message was inside.

Keith waited and grasped the book. Please say something. Anything! More words appeared.

Keith wrote furiously in response.

Keith looked at the book and then at the body of the woman he never knew. The book was the one thing she had been holding when he found her. She only moved after he removed it. It was his fault. All of it. Sunset might never have come after him if it wasn’t for the book. Keith continued his writing.

He waited.

While he knelt over the body of his captor, he expected the flashlight to go out. He thought it would flicker. Thought it would lose life on its own, leaving him to his fate. But it didn’t. It stayed bright and shone over the unmoving body of the eyeless Sunset. It meant that he would not die because of circumstance. He would have to turn off the light himself.

The book buzzed.

Keith looked down at the words. He couldn’t believe what Twilight was asking him to do. He would be vunerable. And then he would be dead.

But as long as the light was on, Sunset couldn’t move. She couldn’t do anything. And if he didn’t turn off the flashlight the batteries would die eventually. And then he would have no way of fending her off.

“Sunset,” he said. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but Twilight wants you to talk to her.” Her placed the book next to her and opened it to the most recent page. “I’m sorry if I hurt you. I’m just...so scared right now.” he looked down at the body. He began to cry. “I can’t imagine what you must be going through if you’re still conscious through all of this.” He placed the pen in her hand and stared at her.

He wondered about Sunset. Wondered who she was and why she was so special to this Twilight who was communicating through the book. Wondered why her hair was red with yellow streaks or why she wore the leather jacket with the image of the sun on it. He imagined she must have been really special to this Twilight.

“I’ve never had to face death before,” Keith said. “I am so fucking terrified, Sunset. I can’t see a way out. And I don’t know why I think talking to you is going to change that. But...if you want to kill me...please make it quick...”

His hand shivered around the flashlight. He broke down crying. The beam dropped across sunset’s chest, placing her face in shadow. Keith found his free hand clutching Sunset’s grasp around his arm. He felt it move. It was cold. So very cold. The grip did not loosen. The light faced downward around Sunset’s midsection. She sat up. Keith felt his heart drop. He couldn’t see her face and he didn’t want to. He knew the lifeless eye sockets were there. Knew she was staring at his hopeless, crying form. He refused to look at her in the face. Her other hand dropped the pen and moved towards his neck.

“I’m so sorry,” Keith said, his voice cracking. “I’m sorry I took what belonged to you. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I’m sorry.”

Her hand clenched around his throat. But it didn’t close. In the darkness shrouding her face, Keith felt the warm breath from her mouth shroud his falling tears. Her hand moved up from his throat and stopped on his cheek. Sunset’s fingers wiped away the falling tears and held the side of his face. Keith looked up.

In the border between light and dark, he saw the vague outline of two green eyes starring back at him. They were soft. They were kind. With a soothing gaze of pity, they turned away from Keith and peered down at the open book. Sunset picked up the pen and began to write. After what seemed like an eternity, she stopped. The pen fell from her hand. Her grip loosened around Keith’s arm and she fell. Her body moved no more.

Keith pointed the flashlight at her. She was facedown. The book was open in front of her. Keith read it.

Keith stood outside the house and looked at the key in his hand. He locked the door behind him, leaving Sunset, the book and the nightmare behind. He stared at the house and wondered if it was somehow connected to her. He didn’t need to know about the side effects of her magic. He turned around and walked home.

Two hours later, sunrise rose over an empty lot. It was odd to see such a large wide-open space in-between so many other houses. How could the home developers forget to put a house there?

A little girl walked across the grass. She stubbed her toe on something and saw a small book with a strange symbol on the cover. She picked it up and opened it.