Page 9 of Made to Be

I finally broke free of my petrification and reached for the nearest weapon I could get my hands on. My fingers wrapped around something on my nightstand and I swung it directly at the figure’s head like a baseball bat with all my might.

The thick metal made contact with the person’s skull with a satisfying crack. There was a low grunt followed by a heavy thump, and I quickly lunged to flick on the bedside lamp. That’s when I realized thelamp was missing. No, not missing. It had clattered onto the floor. Next to the body. I snagged my glasses, shoving them on my face, and grabbed my phone to turn on the flashlight revealing that the intruder was...

My mouth dropped open as I stared dumbly down at the floor.

My... corpse?

And he was... stark naked. Well, his body was still covered in those mud markings but other than that, naked as the day he was born.

“Oh. My. God.” I gasped as I jumped from bed to gawk down at the unconscious corpse, no... not a corpse. Not anymore. The unconsciousmanon my bedroom floor.

“Oh my god, oh my god. It worked... It... It actually worked!” I stammered.

He was sprawled face down and I had an admittedly tough time dragging my gaze from his fine ass as I grabbed my lamp and righted it to plug it back in. The room immediately illuminated with warm orange light. The shade was dented but I was genuinely surprised the bulb hadn’t cracked after using the object like a club.

My terror which had transformed into pure elation quickly grew into worry as my face fell.

Ihadhit him really hard. Like, really really hard.

“Shit. Did I kill him?” I fell to my knees beside him and hovered my hands over his head. Was that alump? It did look swollen, but was that normal? “Please, please don’t be dead. Again.”

With a tight grip on the man’s shoulders, I flipped him onto his back and gave him a gentle shake. Okay, it may have looked like I was throttling him. But he had to wake up; I couldn’t have killed the corpse I just miraculously brought back to life!

A pained moan sounded and I immediately stopped shaking the body. His head fell back to the floor with a thud and another groan.

“Oh, shit, sorry.” I cringed. “Are you okay?”

Another unintelligible moan was the only response. I pulled the blanket from my bed and covered the man with it as he began to show further signs of life.

I gaped with stunned relief as his eyes gradually fluttered open.

They were milky white and unfocused as he stared at the ceiling. Then, like a cliché vampire emerging from his slumber, he sat straight up. The blanket fell and pooled around his lap, but he didn’t seem to realize I was sitting next to him as he continued to stare blankly forward, now at the wall.

Say something. Think. Something, anything! Stupid. Useless. Brain.

“Um,” I began hesitantly, “hi?”

Wow. Seriously? Couldn’t think of some better first words, Victor?

With comical slowness, he turned his head until his dead-eyed gaze settled on me.

“Wow,” I whispered in complete awe.

“W- Wo- Wow.” He stuttered. His voice was scratchy and raw, like his vocal cords were still unthawing. Well, they technically probably were.

My eyes widened. “Unholy shit.”

“Un- Holy sh- Shit”

“Okay, this is weird.” I clapped my hand over his opened mouth to stop him repeating what I said. Those hazy eyes widened slightly as they took in my face, as if he was just as surprised to see me as I was him.

I carefully extricated my hand from his mouth and sat back, re-crossing my legs. I eyed him curiously, taking note of how the many cuts and bruises that had decorated his body had already healed and faded into soft pink scars. His attached limbs seemed to be in working order as well, which was a relief.

After a few seconds, he mirrored me by crossing his legs beneath the maroon plaid blanket. The pale toes of his sewed-on leg wiggled from where they stuck out, so I reached over and covered them with the edge of the fabric.

He had to be cold, right? It was mid-October and I didn’t have heating in the upstairs of my century-old house. I had forgotten to turn on the little space heater in the corner, so my bedroom was particularly chilly tonight. He wasn’t shivering though, so maybe hewas alright? I was at least wearing a sweater and my Halloween themed pajama pants with little Jack-O-Lanterns and bats all over them.

“Are you... cold?” I asked him carefully.