Twin of the dead

Some fanfic by Abonnybunny/LegendaryEsquilax

Ch.1

The news around town never covered much more than who died and how, or what fresh new hell was unleashed upon the country. All of it happened outside her bubble, always people she never knew. Even her Grandma and Great Aunt were alive and spry as ever. Death rarely crossed her mind for more than a second…

Terri Mackleberry, along with her sister, Sherri, hadn't been up to anything special that day. Their jump ropes were being repaired and they were bored of all their games so they took a walk to pass the time. It all happened so fast, it was unreal. A car came speeding onto the pavement, the most she caught was a licence plate that started with an "FR".

Before she could process anything, Terri was standing alone, her usual lavender traded for black. She viewed the dispassionate eulogy of a bored reverend through a veil. It was such a bright, warm day. Somehow, that only made her feel worse.

Once the services were over, she stood rooted to the spot in front of the hole, which had yet to be filled in. Her hair and veil fluttered ever so slightly in the breeze. Even as numb as she felt, she was still sobbing. She was always a crybaby, her dad would say.

"Terri..."

Without even lifting her head she looked to her right. Lisa stood right next to her, gazing down at the coffin. Terri moved a few steps to the left.

Without waiting for a response Lisa sighed. "I… I don't know what to say… I'm so sorry."

Terri grunted, she didn't buy the apology for a second. Maybe she and Sherri said a few not-so-nice things but it wasn't like Lisa was great to them either. Sherri never forgot that one week of constant humiliation from Nelson thanks to Lisa.

Yet she held her tongue for the same reasons she left quietly when her mom beckoned. There was a time and place for causing a scene, and that moment wasn't either.

Over the next two weeks, Terri was offered hollow condolences from the kids around her. The same people who would judge the twins through a fake smile, call her "Tubbi" or gleefully partook in chanting the modern playground favourite, "Sherri smells, Terri smells". They had the cheek to think they had any right being friendly all of a sudden.

Eventually, she stopped going outside altogether aside from school. Without her sister backing her up, she had no courage to talk to anyone, even if to give them a well-deserved telling off. Her days were spent buried in a pillow, leaving only enough room to breathe. She couldn't stop thinking it would have been better if she had died instead… or preferably neither but Sherri had the best shot at a future alone.

Then a few days afterwards, she saw it.

"Nerdonomicon: The book of the probably not alive".

Terri had decided to walk home that day. Predictably, she had gotten lost. Not because she didn't know her way around but it was hard to navigate properly while gazing at the floor. The book caught her eye as she half-heartedly looked around to regain her bearings.

It was an otherwise nondescript book, in a run-down store managed by a witch. Not the sort that had pointy hats and buckled shoes but the ones that try to curse people over the internet with emojis and reeked of cat pee. On the same night she had it with her at the cemetery, the creepy leathery tome in one hand, a shovel in the other.

If any other person knew what she was up to, they would have thought she was insane. Terri would argue that's because they're stupid and uncaring. And then kick them in the shins for good measure.

Her sister's tomb took some time to find. It wasn't a decorative grave, nor was it by a tree or atop a hill or any other supposedly symbolic place. It must have taken at least twenty minutes to find, though that was only a guess. The night was bitter cold and her ankles were starting to ache but it didn't matter.

"Um, hey sis," Terri murmured, "I'm… um..." Not that Sherri could hear but it was hard to find the right words. She plonked down and stared right ahead at a plain name plate on a rectangular piece of rock. With her eyes cleared, she could make out that they didn't even spell her name right.

It was Sherri with an "I", not "Y", idiots!

"I'm gonna help you, okay? I-I really need you back. With me," she said as she started to glance away. "I can't survive on my own."

There wasn't any turning back, well actually there was. There were plenty of ways to turn back. In fact, she could literally turn back but her self-doubt was wasting its non existent breath. The shovel made a dull 'thunk' as Terri put her weight onto the head. Neglecting to take any breaks, she unearthed her sibling in no less than an hour.

It was fairly obvious why Sherri had a closed-casket funeral. Having blacked out after the incident, this was the first time she saw Sherri since she was alive. And yet, looking at her sister's mangled corpse only gave her a feeling of determination. She placed her hand on Sherri's forehead. It was cold and felt slightly moldy so she reflexively pulled back for a moment. Once she found the page she was looking for, Terri abandoned her sense of disgust and put her hand back.

"Sseug... I won nos...rep," Terri read out, "S-sheesh, is all of it complete babble? Sseug I won nosrep daednu ekam. Skcub evif!" It might have been some explicable force or just her expertise in twinglish shining through but the spell was starting to come to her naturally. "Em ewo llits uoy mada-"

"SHUT UP, YOU!" Terri froze at the sudden yet oddly familiar shouting. "Yer'll wake tha' dead shoutin' like tha'!"

Behind her stood a man not unlike Groundskeeper Willie, albeit with white hair and what looked like a glass eye. He firmly clutched his own shovel, all but wringing it in Scottish rage.

"B-but that's what I'm trying to do!" she squeaked, backing up and ready to make a break for it.

"Ach, well, dinnae mind me wee lassie, carry on..."

The creepy gravedigger stared for a few seconds, then turned and left. Terri could finally relax. Having lost her place in a panic, she crawled back over to her sister and found the right page again. The ground felt much colder on her knees.

"Okay, okay, from the top… Sseug I won nosrep daednu ekam. Skcub evif em ewo llits uoy mada. Ffuts siht ta trepxe on mi ylsuoires. Tnahc doog a fo kniht tndluoc!"

There was no great thunderclap, which suited her just fine. Only a heavy silence loomed over her as she froze with her hand raised in a dramatic claw.

…

Nothing. Nothing happened. As Terri lowered her hand, her hopes sank, and then tumbled off a cliff like Bart's dad.

"... I'm sorry, sis… I thought… Oh god, what am I even doing!?" It didn't take another second for grief to punch her in the heart again leading to an explosion of inelegant blubbering. "I just desecrated your grave for nothing, I'm sorry!"

Sherri's body felt a hundred times heavier than before, as if she was putting up resistance to being moved. In fact, it felt too much like she was resisting. Terri grabbed at her sister's arm and moved her hand away.

Sherri moved her own arm back on her chest.

"Huh? Sherri?" Terri squeaked, "Hello? Helloooo!" No response. Yet her chest was slightly rising and lowering, but Terri couldn't be too sure. It could have been wishful thinking on her part. Upon using the scientific method, poking with a stick, she could finally confirm it, Sherri was alive! Checking her pulse might have helped affirm that too.

"Sherri!" Terri cried out, hopping from foot to foot, "you had me so worried! You weren't moving and I thought- nevermind, I guess dying just took it out of you, huh?"

Gently, Terri pulled Sherri over her shoulder. Perhaps it was her but Sherri's body looked a lot more… physically possible, all the joints in the right places and everything. Terri tried to ignore her sister's icky, clammy skin and she smelled none too pleasant either.

"Okay, I think you need a bath, smelly!"