Another thing that didn’t find it’s way on the monthly statement was the knock on the door. It’s been few a weeks. I just wrote the first check to my lawyer. The court case ensues. Bail has been paid. I saw all that coming.

What I didn’t see coming was the knock at the door. I answered, but I shouldn’t have.

The gun was pointed at my chest and I didn’t have time to respond. I stepped back from the door with my hands held up mid-chest.

There they were. Alive. Or not alive. Escaped, from the morgue…and at my door. The gun went off with an empty click, and the one with blonde hair, and a patch missing from the scabbing scalp, groaned. Their brown eyes had fogged over and the color seemed like it was draining from their eyes, oozing away, and all that was left behind was a glazed-over gray.

I backed up against the wall of the staircase. I sputtered, but nothing else came out. They gently pushed open the door. They took a step in. And that’s when I heard the scream come from behind.

Both heads toppled.