Lisa guided Liam up the creaky steps to her front door, her heart hammering with a strange mix of excitement and dread. She cast a quick glance back at him, watching as he took in every detail—the peeling paint, the faint smell of lavender drifting from the flower pots lining the porch. Liam, or the new version of him, had barely spoken a word since they'd escaped the clearing. He seemed dazed, moving like he was wading through a dream, his hand lingering on her shoulder for balance.
Finally, they reached her door. Lisa unlocked it and gestured him inside, feeling a peculiar shift in the air as he crossed the threshold. It was almost as if she'd invited a ghost into her life. She caught herself before laughing nervously at the thought—after all, that wasn't too far from the truth.
"Uh… welcome, I guess," she murmured, flicking on the light.
Liam squinted as the room lit up, his gaze wandering over the cluttered shelves filled with odd trinkets and stacks of Lisa's books on mythology and the supernatural. He blinked, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he spotted a stack of DVDs with titles like Night of the Living Dead and Shaun of the Dead. "A theme, huh?"
She grinned, surprised at the flicker of humor. "Well, I… had a bit of an obsession," she admitted, shrugging. "Guess it's why we're here now."
Liam's face softened, but the faint spark of recognition dimmed as quickly as it appeared. He looked around again, that lost look settling back in. He absently rubbed at a smear of dirt on his arm, his face crinkling in discomfort.
"Let me get you cleaned up," Lisa offered, motioning toward the bathroom down the hall. "You can wash up, and I'll find you something… less, um, graveyard-y to wear."
Liam nodded, still quiet. He followed her down the hallway, his movements hesitant, as if he wasn't quite sure of his own body. Lisa could only imagine how disoriented he felt—brought back to life in the dead of night, facing creatures lurking in the fog, and now here, in her messy, very ordinary house. She handed him a towel and some clothes her older brother had left behind. "These might fit. Probably better than, well, what you've got on."
"Thanks," he murmured, his voice barely audible. He closed the bathroom door behind him, and she heard the soft hum of the water running.
Lisa leaned against the wall outside, letting out a shaky breath. She'd done it—she'd brought him back. And he was real, warm, breathing, even a little sarcastic. But as the initial thrill wore off, a cold knot of fear began to twist in her stomach. What if bringing him back had consequences she hadn't considered? What if, by summoning Liam, she'd invited something far darker into her life?
The bathroom door creaked open, and Liam emerged, his damp hair plastered to his forehead, wearing the too-big shirt and jeans she'd given him. He looked like he was playing dress-up in someone else's clothes, his expression hesitant and vulnerable.
Lisa gave him an encouraging smile. "You clean up well."
He glanced down at himself, giving a wry smile. "Thanks. I don't feel like… myself. But, then again…" His voice trailed off as he seemed to wrestle with the weight of that word—myself. It was as if he was trying to remember what that word even meant.
"Hey, come sit." She gestured to the couch in the living room. "You look like you need to rest."
He hesitated, his eyes flickering to hers, but finally nodded and sat down, his movements still stiff and tentative. Lisa sat beside him, feeling the tension in the air like a tangible force.
She wanted to ask him so many things—to know what he felt, what he remembered, what he thought about the life he'd left behind. But the questions crowded her mind, so many that she couldn't even decide where to start. Instead, she blurted, "Are you… okay?"
He looked at her, his eyes dark and uncertain. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice barely more than a whisper. "It's like… being in a fog, but I can't tell if it's around me or… inside me." He rubbed his forehead, looking frustrated. "I know there are pieces missing. Things I should know, people I should recognize."
His eyes softened as he looked at her, and she felt a strange warmth in the pit of her stomach. "But you… you're the one thing that feels right. Like I'm supposed to be here, with you."
Lisa's cheeks burned, and she tried to suppress a grin, but it was futile. "Guess that makes me the anchor of the afterlife, huh?"
He chuckled softly, the sound bringing a glimmer of the old Liam she'd loved. But his expression quickly sobered. "Lisa, how did you do it? How did you bring me back?"
Her smile faded. The words came slowly, almost reluctantly. "I don't know exactly. I just… I tried everything. There were books, rituals, things I didn't understand, but I was desperate. I couldn't just let you go."
She hadn't told him the full story, and she didn't know if she ever could—the sleepless nights, the obsession that had taken over her, the whispers she'd heard from shadows as she prepared the ritual. It was as if something had been calling her, urging her to bring him back, though she still didn't understand why.
Liam's hand rested on hers, pulling her from her thoughts. "Thank you," he said, his voice laced with a sincerity that made her heart ache. "I don't know what I did to deserve it, but… thank you."
The words hung in the air, and for a moment, Lisa felt a fleeting sense of peace. But just as quickly, the gravity of what she'd done sank in, and a chill ran through her. She'd brought him back, but what did that mean? Had she broken some cosmic rule? Was there a price she hadn't yet seen?
As if sensing her unease, Liam's gaze softened. "Lisa… what happens now?"
The question made her heart skip. She didn't have an answer, and the uncertainty gnawed at her. "I don't know," she admitted, forcing a smile. "But for now, I think we just… figure it out as we go."
She stood up, trying to lighten the mood. "And step one of figuring it out means pizza. You may not remember much, but I'm pretty sure pizza was your favorite food."
A flicker of surprise crossed his face, followed by a smile. "Pizza… sounds good." He relaxed, and for a moment, they sat in a comfortable silence.
But as she headed to the kitchen, she caught her reflection in the darkened window, and for a split second, she saw something else behind her—a flicker of shadow, a glimpse of something watching. She blinked, and it was gone, leaving her with a lingering unease.
She shook it off, returning to the living room with a forced smile. "Alright, pizza's on the way. Let's see if it sparks any memories."
Liam chuckled, but there was a haunted look in his eyes, as if he sensed the same darkness looming. He reached for her hand again, holding it like a lifeline. And Lisa, despite the growing dread in her heart, squeezed back, determined to hold onto whatever pieces of him she could, even if it meant venturing into the unknown.