Chapter 83: Reanimation

"I am planning to end myself this night," Layla said with cold determination.

"What?" Zack and Penelope could not understand their parent's words and could only answer in a shocked and panicked voice.

"I have nothing left to do in this world, I've taught you everything I know of and I've left a book to continue the legacy of the Lockhoover family. Although I understand that it's impossible for you two to work for the police, because of what happened to me, the knowledge persists"

"Just because you're done with your work, doesn't mean you can talk of dying like that! Did you take us in just because you wanted to teach us your methods and planned to end yourself afterwards?" Zack shouted in response.

"Don't be unfair," Layla replied coldly.

Hearing her simple answer, Zack could not think of anything to say. It was, after all, because of him that Layla ended up like this. If only he could keep his darned mouth shut, none of this would have happened.

"Besides, the pain in my arm would kill me sooner or later. I've learned to hide the grimaces and groans, but I don't wish to live such a life," Layla said decisively. There was no hesitation, or any other emotion in her voice.

"Please… don't do this! Stay with us! Please!" Penelope started begging her mother as tears streamed across her face.

Layla tried to caress her head, like she did when the girl was still a child, but just by touching something, the stinging pain in her hands started flaring up. Layla tried her best to ignore it and raised her daughter's head and kissed her on the forehead.

"I love you two with my heart and I will always look after you from beyond. Although it pains me, your tears and pleas will not change my decision… And besides, something tells me that the afterlife would not be something so bad," Layla said softly as she wiped the tears off Penelope's eyes. Even with her battered hand, she could wipe the teardrops with the tip of her covered hand without hurting the girl's eye.

Even with that, it still took a long time for the two children to give in to their mother's decision. Of course, they never accepted it. Zack wanted to ransack the house and rid it of poisons, but his quick wits told him that Layla would be prepared for such a reaction.

Penelope cried her heart out for the longest time, but after a few hours, only an awkward silence ensued inside the room. How was one supposed to talk to someone who had planned out her death?

"Thank you for respecting my decisions. Now leave, come back in the morning and tell the police that I must've mistaken my pills. The concoction that relieves my pain does not look so different from the disinfectant I use to clean bodies in the middle of the night. I don't want you two to be prosecuted for my attempt at death. Now leave," Layla explained calmly.

The two children were speechless at their mother's calmness, but they could kind of understand how it was possible.

It was not the first time they saw someone die, in fact, they were probably the most calm compared to others, when faced with something like this. When one worked with dead bodies on a daily basis, they couldn't help but think of the case subject deeply.

"Thank you for telling us beforehand," Penelope muttered out, and left.

A while after her children left, Layla sat in her armchair silently, trying to ignore the pulsating pain that came from her battered arms. 

Gently sighing, she slowly dragged herself onto her bed and started clawing at the surrounding things, making a mess of the covers to make the scene look like the aftermath of a panicked struggle. The stitches that held her hands together became undone and an unnaturally black blood bled from her hands. She whimpered from the unbearable pain, but she didn't stop until she was satisfied with her 'case'.

"It's a bit sloppy, but it's enough to convince those idiot pigs..."

She then took out a small steel bottle from from between her breasts, carefully pulled at the cork on top of it, and began to inhale its contents. Gradually, the pain disappeared and was replaced with growing excitation. Her eyelids became heavier and heavier and just before she lost consciousness, she drank the solution she used to embalm dead bodies... as a kind of tribute to her father.

Evan witnessed her death with silence and expectation. He stared at her dead body, patiently waiting for something to happen. His instincts were telling him that she was special.

Just like he'd expected, an illusory spirit slowly phased out of Layla's dead body. A perfect copy. Evan looked at the spirit expectantly, but could not quite say something to her.

Should he tell her that he was a ghost that spent every single moment of his afterlife with her?

But Evan did not get the chance to start the conversation, as Layla looked around her and found an unknown man sitting on a chair, silently staring at her.

"Who are yo-" she tried to ask, but suddenly, her face paled even more and the veins inside her body started convulsing violently.

Evan hurriedly ran towards her and held her in his arms. Finally, after almost twenty years, his skin could finally reach his beloved, but the situation did not allow him to rejoice. The intensely shaking woman in his arms was starting to froth at her mouth, adding on to Evan's panic. He didn't know what to do, aside from pointlessly holding Layla in his arms and shouting at her that it was going to be okay.

Evan refused to let anything happen to her now that he was finally able to affect her somehow… But he simply didn't know anything about the situation he was in, aside from the fact that he was a ghost of some sort.

He struggled blindly, but a sudden feeling of sharp pain in his neck stunned him for a brief moment. He then noticed that Layla was biting at his neck with a crazed expression. Evan did not wish to push her away, but he knew that there was definitely something very wrong with this whole situation.

But Layla did not give him any chance to ponder and started to claw at his body brutally with her nails and stuffing her mouth with whatever she could rip out. Evan never felt pain after he was reincarnated, but Layla's brutal maiming forced him to remember the pain and agony of being a mortal.

But Evan forced himself to stay still. He most definitely did not imagine his first meeting with Layla to be like this, but this could help her in some way, and Evan was willing to let her do as she wanted. He could only sit there motionlessly and let the newly created spirit to rip him to shreds. And even though the pain was unbearable, he still welcomed it as it made him feel alive, somewhat.

Evan's spiritual state soon started looking like a rag doll that just got chewed out by a dog. Bits and pieces of his skin and flesh were missing, and some sort of unnatural cold light was shining from inside.

'Perhaps I would actually die this time,' Evan started to think, while he tried his best to ignore the pain. If he was being completely honest, he thought a lot about suiciding as a ghost, but something was telling him that it would be futile. And he wasn't that desperate in the first place, so he never tried.

As Evan was thinking of such things, Layla's attacks suddenly stopped and she began to slow down. He looked at the woman and saw her fading, her already pale face dimming ever so slightly.

Evan knew instinctively that whatever was happening to Layla was something ultimate and irreversible. He struggled futilely as the hands that could grab at her previously, now simply started phasing through her and creating a blurry mess of her figure wherever he touched.

A minute later, in a room filled with death, the spirit cried, his hope blurred into oblivion.

Perhaps another madness followed afterwards, or perhaps Evan had just blanked out for a while to mend his broken heart.

Evin sighed on the comfortable armchair and started thinking about all the other incidents in his life as a spirit that happened to him afterwards.

Many incidents that were similar to Layla's happened with Evan in his long life. It was truly fascinating how fast a person could forget. Only three years later, Evan was already stalking another woman he started to fancy. Although there were some confusions and feelings of betraying Layla, he got over them quite quickly.

Most would say that Evin's life as a spirit was meaningless and useless. He would also agree with them, if he was the Evan of 18th-19th century. But later on, he started to enjoy… well, not quite enjoy, but appreciate his situation a bit more. The stories that he could witness, some tragic and some happy, were exclusive to him and Evan enjoyed spectating all of them without question. Even the most mundane of people would have something interesting going on about their lives.

Evan also started finding more and more spirits that would simply go insane after a few seconds of dying. Evan tried to hide and observe their behaviour, but every time they would be able to lock on to him without effort. Distance and obstacles didn't seem to affect them much. One day, Evan was staring at a dead body through the eyes of a camera hoping to finally see what these revenants were up to, but after the spirit was reanimated and turned crazed, it immediately glanced at the camera and started to search around the facility for him.

It was quite horrifying for Evin, who felt that he was safe and in control of the situation.

But there was one thing that Evan could notice. The time lag of them staying sane was becoming longer and longer over time. Evan was sure that at some point, he would find another spirit like himself and his days of loneliness would finally end. Well, fortunately, the lady came and solved all of his problems for him.

And it wasn't like he didn't have his days of companionship. The special cats he would find at some points in his life acted like symbols of tranquility where he could stay sane and feel alive after a weary period of loneliness and spectatorship.

Evin shook his head as he let the potion do its job of sorting his memories. Sitting comfortably, Evin watched his life flash past his eyes. After everything was finished, he shook his overworked head and stood up to Kena.

Four days had passed after Evin drank the potion. The image of a World of Thoughts Sprite was getting dimmer in Evin's head, almost transparent. It was sending signals to Evin that he should contact its creator.

"Finished with your sorting? That took much longer than I expected. But that in itself is a good thing, means I have a lot of things to dig through," the old man said joyously.