Fiction On Odyssey: Reset (Part Three)

Fiction On Odyssey: Reset (Part Three)

"He’s not dead. That’s ridiculous. He would have told me if he was dead."

“Look none of the others want to tell you the truth, so I will.”

I stare at her, trying to remember her name and coming up blank; she is one of the two that just appeared recently, and we’ve never really had cause to interact before, so all I can say in response to her statement is an eloquent, “What?”

“Will is dead.”

If she’d punched me in the gut, it would have had less of an impact on me than those three little words, and they swirl around in my head over and over, thrown into a cyclone of tumultuous feelings and unspoken words, but then: “Don’t listen to her, please.”

I look over, and Will is standing right next to me, a heartbroken expression speaking of so much pain on his face, but the feeble attempt at a smile he gives me in response to my relieved beam concerns me, and I don’t want to think about it right now so I turn back to her and respond, “He’s standing right here, so I don’t know what you’re talking about, and that was kind of a jerk thing to say because you gave me a split second heart attack.”

“No, he’s not ‘standing right there,’ because whatever you’re seeing is a delusion!” — What? — “Will has been dead, gone for months,” —no, she’s lying— “and what you’re seeing is nothing but a demented coping mechanism your brain made up to help you hurt less!” — No! — “The others have all been too chicken to tell you” — they’ve gathered, the looks on their faces confirm — “so I have to do it. WILL. IS. DEAD.”

She’s wrong she’s wrong, she’s lying, I WON’T BELIEVE IT, because Will is standing right next to me, tears streaming down his face as he shakes his head and mouths my name and reaches out to me but she grabs me by the shoulders before I can touch him, and she’s not letting me focus on anything else except for her bellows in my face, her yells at me to REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENED ON YOUR LAST PATROL.

Only the dead see ghosts.

I run, I run as fast as I can, away from the liars. They’re trying to get between me and Will. Of course that’s what’s happening. He can’t be dead. He’s not dead. That’s ridiculous. He would have told me if he was dead. That’s not something that you just hide. It’s totally a relationship breaker.

But he’s not running with me. He’s disappearing, then reappearing a distance away, almost like how a ghost teleports. But that is only something he’s always been able to do, right? I never questioned it before. It'd just happen. It was one of his quirks.

Normal people don’t teleport on a whim.

But that’s just Will.


My thoughts whirl as my sneakers crunch against the dead leaves beneath them.

Our last patrol? We went out, just like any other patrol.

We found a building. We snuck inside. We found a mother load of food, and we were so happy, and in the heat of the moment, he kissed me. Then… then zombies found us and I jumped out a window, and Will followed, and we got away and went back to the group. That’s what happened.

That’s what happened, right? Right?!

But then why do I remember coming back dripping with blood and water?

Why didn’t the group ever let us out on patrols after that?

Why do they look at Will and I with so much sadness sometimes?

WHATEVER. That doesn’t matter. That’s what happened. We went out, we kissed, we were almost overrun, but we made it back.

The glimpses of Will I catch out of the corner of my eye as I run are all shaking his head.

That’s not what happened, and you and I both know it.

It's almost time to reset.

Why do I know I’ve traveled this path before?

Why do I feel like I have a destination in mind?

I hear the sounds of water approaching. Before I know it, I’ve found a small creek.

Small enough that the dozens of bodies that litter it are not washed away by the current.

One thing about my bat, my makeshift mace, is that it makes a very distinct pattern of holes whenever I strike a zombie’s body with it.

All of the bodies here, they have that pattern all over them.

And the closest one…

The closest one…

The closest body is the freshest.

Bloated, with the gasses of death, but I would recognize that blonde hair anywhere.

I walk over to Will’s body and collapse onto my knees next to him, not caring in the slightest how the red creek water stains my jeans.

In the water, my distorted reflection grins at my agony.

Will’s ghost flickers into existence beside me. I lift my head to look up at him.

I’m so sorry,” I manage, through choked sobs.

He only smiles wistfully and shakes his head.

“It’s not your fault. It’s his.

I can feel the menacing laughter somewhere in me, and I realize that I am not alone in my own mind.

But then again, this isn’t the first time I’m understanding that, is it?

He always wins.

Will starts to fade.

I try to hug him, to hold on to him, to keep him here and do whatever I can to make up for this awful thing that I have done, but my arms only circle air.

After all, being dead will only get me so far.

“I’m SORRY!” I scream.

His fading visage echoes the numbed melancholy I feel as my memory of him begins to slip away, just like it did with all the others.

I ebb away the last of your memories, taking control of your body and walking you to some remote part of the forest, miles away. The stubborn ghost of my latest victim follows, stupidly using the last of his energy in the same intrepid attempt to “get through” to this body that all the others try.

I select a new spot and lie down on the forest floor. The apparition lies down next to me, trying to stroke this face and failing because he no longer has the energy to touch flesh. I mock him, but he ignores me and stares intently into my vessel’s eyes. Just like always, I relinquish just enough control so that the soul of my prisoner can hear the fruitless words.

“It waS a LoT OF FUN KnOwINg YoU, But NOW I HAVE tO gO, okay? you hAVE to STop DOiNg this. I knOW HE’S MAking you foRGet, And it’S Hard, BuT You Have tO, beFoRE he fINds SomeOnE elsE. YoU Can dO It, OKAy? I L o V E y o u . . . “

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Cover Image Credit: ClaudiaRae

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Stop rotating the same 5 costumes already, ladies.

We've all been there. How hard is it to come up with a creative Halloween costume? Or is it? Here are 10 of the most overrated Halloween costumes that you should NEVER do again.

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18 Types Of Mini-Golfers You Come Across On An 18-Hole Course

Which type of mini-golfer are YOU?


Mini-golf: A fun activity that has been around since 1916. We have all played mini-golf before and have probably played a variety of courses over the year. The one thing you might not always realize is the players around you. Next time you go mini-golfing take a look at those playing around you and see if you can find these 18 types of players. Even see which of these mini-golfers you fit!

The professional golfer.

This is the golfer who always has to look at the hole, line up his shot every time, and takes the rules seriously such as adding a stroke when the ball goes out of bounds. I mean it's mini-golf, you don't need to line up ALL your shots.

The driver.

This is the golfer who drives the ball as if he was on an actual golf course. It's one thing if you have a power swing, but this person typically drives the ball purposefully.

The obnoxious one.

This is the golfer who is just wild and all over the place. They make such a big deal out of every play, might make irrelevant comments, etc. It's just unnecessary.

The cheerleader.

This is the person who is constantly cheering others on. Even if it's a bad play they'll say "awe, it's o.k! You still got this!"

The family with the annoying kids.

This is the family where the parents don't know how to control their kids. This is where the kids will go to the next hole before their parents, destroy some of the property, or even interfere with other people golfing.

The family that tries to act like a family.

This is the family that you can clearly see is just acting like a family. It could be as simple as a family that seems tense and is just playing together to a family where the dad and kids are playing while the mom just walks around with them filing her nails.

The group of 8+.

This is the group that holds EVERYONE up. They don't care if there are 8+ balls on one hole at a time. If you are this group, please let people behind you go ahead.

The inseparable couple.

This is the couple that is all over each other. They're constantly kissing if they aren't playing or they are taking pictures of each other.

The teenage girls.

These are the girls acting all innocent and taking selfies while playing while their parents sit near the entrance for them. It's the only thing they can do without parent supervision.

The oldie.

This is literally a grandma or grandpa who is naturally just slow. They are so adorable, but it'll take a good 2 hours to play a full 18 holes with them because of how slow they move.

The smokers.

These are the people smoking cigs or cigars while playing. Let's just hope they aren't smoking around kids and put their butts in the little buckets at each hole.

The slow pokes.

These are the golfers that just take forever. If you are a slow poke please be considerate of those behind you and let them go ahead of you.

The competitive one.

This is the one who is constantly up in your face about how they're going to win. They are the ones who can't just enjoy a game of mini-golf.

The out of bounder.

This is the golfer who constantly hits the ball out of bounds. At that rate you don't even give them a penalty stroke because they'd be up to 10+ on one hole.

The goofball.

This is the person who just acts silly. They could be the ones using a child's size putter or balancing on different rocks or stumps on the course.

The clueless one.

This is the one who never realizes what hole their on, when it's their turn, or what they are even doing.

The scorekeeper.

This is the golfer who takes keeping score seriously. Or this could just be the person who naturally always keeps score when you go mini-golfing.

The normal couple (or group).

These are the people we all love. It's the people who like some friendly competition, but don't goof around. They move from hole to hole at a good pace and keep to themselves. They also are cognizant of those around them. These are the mini-golfers we all love and should strive to be.

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