We the dead punish the living.

"It hurts, and my head is hazy. Why are they doing this? I did nothing to them and stayed out of their way at school. Even in my home, I can't escape them, and my mother stands by watching, not caring. I hate this; I hate them." 

That was James Mercer's last living memory, but what awaits him in death will ripple through the living world. Death is not the end; It's only the start.

I feel the damp ground as my mind slowly begins to wake from its haze; it's deathly quiet. I open my eyes to see a semi-thick fog as I lay on the forest floor. A patch of dirty ground below me, not like the moss-covered ground with leaves covering it, like someone who had been digging it up. I pulled myself up off the ground, my legs weak as I fell back to the ground and focused on getting to my knees first.

"What's going on? Why is it so quiet? It may be nighttime, but there should be sounds of bugs or animals. I can't stand." 

I forced myself to crawl, trying to find the road, but I had no idea which way to go, and I didn't want to stay there. This spot gives me a soul-eerie pain. I'm not too fond of this feeling; it makes me angry and feels like a pit of pain.

I begin to crawl; every foot feels like a mile. As I push myself forward, the minutes turn into hours in this semi-dark, eerie forest. There is no sound but my grunting as I crawl in the direction I picked until my hand touches cold, hard asphalt. 

"Finally, I can wait for help here. I really wish I could use my legs. I feel like I have no energy at all. If I had to describe it, I would only be able to say it's like being a newborn baby—not being able to move much yourself."

I waited, but there was no car, not even a semi-truck doing a nighttime haul. Then, I heard a light cry in the distance. It slowly sounded like it was coming closer and closer until I could see what seemed to be a woman in a white wedding dress with a veil on.

"Miss, are you okay? If you're okay, I may need your help as I can't stand now. Can you call 911 for me? I need your help."

She stopped crying and lifted her head. I couldn't see her face, but I got this ominous feeling that I may have just done something I shouldn't have as her pace increased. I noticed it was like she was walking but more like gliding—like a wisp of fog blown by the wind. 

She was now closing the distance as a cold feeling of dread started to crip into me that I needed to leave, and now I tried to stand. My legs gave out as I began to backpedal while sitting on my ass, trying to keep my eye on her. I hit a tree with my back; she was less than five feet away. That's when her veil moved, and I saw her face.

Her eyes had no eyeballs, and worms were wiggling inside her sockets. Her jaw was gone, and her tongue hung low where her jaw should have been. The lady in the wedding dress lounged at me as I reached out and grabbed her forearms as she began to scream, and what was left of her face was in shock as I felt something enter my body.

This feeling energized my body, like a person who was once thirsty and finally got rid of that feeling. I felt strong as I noticed she was struggling less and less as her body seemed to become transparent. She fell to her knees as her screaming began to sound more like pleading. I started to lift off my legs, and her body started to fade slowly.

She was now gone, and I was standing, feeling better than I had since waking up on the ground. I still have some weakness, but it's nothing I can't walk off, and I also notice the fog is less thick. Everything looks a little clearer to me.

I knew this road was the one that was about ten miles outside the city. Why am I out here, and what happ-

Then it hit me like a ton of bricks that I may be dead; that's the only thing I can think of that makes sense of what's going on. The dread I felt on that patch of land, the women in the wedding dress, not being able to walk. I feel to my knees have wept with all my being; I am dead.

I knelt there crying and screaming until I could no more what seemed like an eternity. Then anger and hatred started to take root inside me. I wanted to make them pay no, not just them, everyone who is selfish and cruel. I wanted blood and pain from them; I wanted to hear them scream. 

But first, I need to learn about this new world I will be a part of. The lady looked shocked by whatever I did. That must not have been normal, so I picked myself up and walked. I know there is a rundown gas station on this road, and if I reach it, I will be only three miles out of the city.

I walked for what seemed to be ten hours without seeing anything. This doesn't make sense. If I were walking away from my city, I would have already walked to the next town. Is time and distance different here? I kept walking until I finally saw that gas station, but it had lights on and looked like it was still running...

I walked inside the station, and a guy behind the counter with half his head spoke.

"Oh, a new face and a young one at that. When did you wake up?"

I look at him, and he doesn't seem to care that I am looking at him like something to study, as he most likely has had this happen to him before. He is wearing what looks to be a 1940s US gas station uniform.

He speaks as he looks at me with one eye.

"Welcome to the land of the dead, as we call it. I can answer anything you want to know?"

I breathe in and let the air out before speaking to him.

"What is this thick fog? And does it go away?"

He smiles and answers with the knowledge he knows of.

"This fog is like the veil that keeps the living world and the world of the dead apart. Rumor has it that the less fog one can see, the more one can interact with the living. If one can clear all the fog from his ability to see, he can step into the living world and become a living dead. But that's just a rumor from the old ones walking the lands for thousands of years. At most, you can just fuck with the living and maybe hurt them a little bit."

I see. Whatever I did to that woman, let me clear up the fog. So does that mean the more dead I "absorb," the more transparent the mist?

"Can other dead hurt one another?"

He looks at me and tilts his head.

"The dead are spirits. The most we can do is fuck with each other and make us waste our energy so we can't fuck with the living. We can't kill or make each other disappear as we are already dead, and there isn't a realm after that."

So, I am different. I wonder how many dead spirits I need to absorb in order to clear the fog away and see if I can step into the living world. But first, let's see how much the fog lifts after I absorb this spirit. But I have one final question I need to ask him.

"What up with the walking here? I walked for hours, and the distance doesn't add up."

He broke out into laughter as he began to speak.

"It's always changing; one moment, it feels like for every and longer than you know. It is a short time and not that far away. Time and distance means nothing here."

I smiled and held out my hand to give him a handshake.

He smiled and returned and grabbed my hand, but what was left of his face changed as he began to panic.

 "WHAT ARE YOU DOING!"

He yelled as he started to squirm, trying to pull his hand away, but he started to fade faster than the woman in the white dress. He began to plead and finally disappeared as I felt stronger. The fog became a little more transparent, not by much, but it told me what I needed to know. 

"I can feed on spirits in a world where no one can hurt me."

I said with a grin from ear to ear.