Benny crouched beside Lisa, his bony hands trembling as he gently lifted her head. His touch was careful, hesitant, as if afraid she might crumble under the weight of it.
She didn’t.
Lisa looked just like she had before this nightmare began—no monstrous claws, no unnatural muscles or twisted limbs. Even her neck, which had been grotesquely broken when I first saw her, was whole again. The ghoul’s regenerative trait had left her looking... alive. Almost.
Her eyes fluttered open, and she blinked slowly, focusing on Benny. Thick, dark blood began to pool in the corners of her eyes, spilling down her cheeks like crimson tears.
I felt my stomach twist, but I forced myself to look.
Undead can’t cry normal tears. Most don’t even have normal eyes anymore—just empty sockets or worse. But the ones who still have their old flesh and blood? They cry like this. Bloody tears. A sight that always drags me back... back to her.
I shoved the thought away. This wasn’t the time to dredge up old wounds.
Lisa’s voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper. “I... I saw everything. Heard everything.” She looked at Benny, her bloodstained cheeks trembling. “It was like I was pushed into the backseat of a car. I could see you, hear you, but I couldn’t... I couldn’t stop it.”
Benny clutched her hand, his skeletal fingers almost engulfing hers. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “You’re safe now. I promised I’d fix this, and I did.”
She shook her head, her voice breaking. “You... you didn’t give up. Not even when I tried to...” Her eyes flicked to his chest, where the gouges from her ghoul form had barely missed ripping him apart.
“And...” she turned her gaze toward me, her voice faltering, “you and... her. You helped him. You didn’t have to, but you did.”
Heat rushed to my face, and I coughed awkwardly, looking away. From the corner of my eye, I saw the bloodhunter standing a few feet away, her back to us.
Her blade had returned to its original form, the crimson scimitar shrinking down into a simple silvery knife. She adjusted her eyepatch with practiced ease, the glowing menace of her eye now hidden.
She didn’t say a word.
Instead, she turned and began limping toward the exit, her injured leg dragging slightly with each step.
For a moment, I thought about stopping her, about thanking her for sticking around and helping us survive. But I knew better. Someone like her didn’t do well with gratitude. Pride made it... awkward. And besides, I understood the act—hard-boiled, mysterious, stoic. That’s what sells the image.
Instead, I turned back to Benny and Lisa, lifting my hand to tip my hat in acknowledgment.
My fingers met empty air.
My hat!
Panic gripped me as I spun in place, trying to remember where I’d lost it in the chaos. Was it back in the hallway? On the platform? How the hell was I supposed to pull off the gumshoe look without it?
A tap on my shoulder made me freeze. I turned, and there she was—the bloodhunter, holding my hat in one hand, a smirk tugging at her lips.
“Here,” she said, holding it out. “You should consider wearing a cape. Or a bandanna, maybe.”
I snatched the hat from her and jammed it onto my head. “Are you stupid? That’d clash with my poncho! Seriously... do you even have a clue about fashion?”
Her smirk faltered, and for a second, she actually looked flustered. “I—I meant...” She let out a sharp breath, exasperated. “...Never mind.”
As the bloodhunter adjusted her eyepatch, she glanced back at me and then held out her hand. “Ana,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “Ana Le-Fey. Bloodhunter, in service of the Adventurers’ Guild.”
I hesitated for a moment before taking her hand. Her grip was steady, almost formal. “Eric Sharaby,” I replied, shaking her hand. “Private investigator, in service of... myself, mostly.”
Up close, without her glowing eye flaring ominously or her blade swinging at my face, she didn’t seem so bad. Hell, she even looked... nice. Her pale white skin had the faintest tinge of red, like someone had taken ivory and brushed it with the barest hint of life. Her icy blue eye was sharp, intelligent, and just slightly intimidating. The small point to her ears gave her the look of the high-class people, and her snow-white hair—smooth and neat, even after all that chaos—made me wonder if she had a secret hair care routine.
If it weren’t for the creepy eye, she could’ve been a model. Or a movie star.
I realized I was staring and quickly cleared my throat. “Uh, nice to meet you... officially. You’re not half bad when you’re not kicking me into the mud or trying to hack me to pieces.”
She smirked faintly. “You’re not half bad when you’re not running your mouth or shooting fire bolts at people.”
Fair enough.
Behind us, Benny struggled to help Lisa to her feet, nearly toppling over in the process. He was barely more than half her size, his skeletal frame wobbling under the effort.
“I’ve got it,” Lisa murmured, her voice still shaky as she steadied herself.
When they finally stood side by side, they both turned to face us. Benny scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “Uh, right. I guess introductions are a thing, huh?” He cleared his throat. “Benny Fizzlebane, former... uh, night shift worker. And current unemployed undead, I guess.”
Up close, Benny was... well, still dead. His shaggy brown hair clung to his scalp in uneven patches, but it gave him a boyish charm that might’ve been cute when he was alive. His glowing green eyes sparkled with a mischievousness that seemed to emerge now that he wasn’t in immediate danger of being turned into a pile of bones.
Lisa smiled faintly, the blood still staining her cheeks. “Lisa Brook,” she said softly, her voice growing steadier. “Formerly just... a girl trying to get by. And now...” She hesitated, glancing down at her hands before looking back at Benny. “I don’t know. Still figuring that part out.”
She was still beautiful, despite everything. Her golden hair still shone, vibrant and lovely even after all the horror she’d endured. Her glowing blue eyes gave her an almost angelic appearance, even if the truth was something far less divine. And her delicate, feminine frame made her look like someone who was meant to be protected.
I watched the two of them standing there—her leaning slightly on him for support, him grinning nervously like he wasn’t sure what to do with his hands—and something in me clicked.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
This was right.
They belonged together, in whatever weird, undead way that meant.
I glanced at Lisa and Benny, the weight of everything that had just happened settling over me. “So,” I said, gesturing vaguely at the wreckage of the factory around us. “How do you want to go about all of this?”
Lisa frowned, her glowing blue eyes flickering with uncertainty. “What do you mean?”
I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. “Your parents. They’ve got the police chasing me and my partner. They filed a lawsuit, claiming we kidnapped you. I’m guessing they weren’t too thrilled about you trying to live your own life.”
Lisa hesitated, her fingers curling into fists as she looked down at herself. Her lips parted, but no words came out at first. “But... how? Look at me. Even if I go to them, like this... What can I even say? What will they think of me?”
Her voice wavered, and before I could say anything, Benny stepped in. His glowing green eyes locked on hers, his skeletal fingers tapping his chin thoughtfully. “You can,” he said, his voice soft but certain. “Come with me to Undertown. We’ll find a glamour vendor. They’ll make you look just like you used to—for long enough to convince your parents and the cops that you just ran off for a vacation or something. No big deal.”
“No big deal?” I muttered, arching a brow. “You’re talking about magically making her look alive again, not handing her a fake ID at a corner shop.”
Benny ignored me, stepping closer to Lisa. “You don’t have to do it alone,” he continued, his voice gentle. “I’ll be there with you. I know what this is like—waking up and realizing everything’s... different. But it’s not so bad being undead. You’ve got me now.”
Lisa blinked, her bloody tears streaking her cheeks. “But what if—”
“You’re not alone,” Benny interrupted, reaching up and placing a bony hand on her shoulder. His grin was lopsided but genuine, the kind of grin that could probably charm someone even when attached to a literal walking corpse. “You’ll never be alone again. I promise.”
She glanced between Benny and me, her eyes shimmering with blood and uncertainty. I tried to keep my face neutral, shrugging like this whole thing didn’t matter. “You don’t have to,” I said, my voice steady despite the panic bubbling beneath it. “Me and my partner—we’ll take care of things eventually.”
Please say yes, I begged inwardly, forcing myself not to fidget. For the love of all that’s unholy, just say yes.
And, bless her undead soul, she did. Lisa straightened, her lips pressing into a determined line. “I’ll do it. If it clears your name and stops my parents from ruining more lives, I’ll do it.”
“Perfect,” Benny said with a grin, giving her shoulder a reassuring pat. “You won’t regret it.”
I exhaled quietly, feeling the tension drain from my shoulders. It was the best news I’d had all night.
----------------------------------------
We made our way out of the ruined building and into the night. The truck was still parked where I’d left it, the faded logo on the side barely visible under the grime. I gestured toward it. “Ride’s on me.”
Ana shook her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Thanks, but I’ve already got a ride.” And just like that, she walked away.
Before I could ask what she meant, a familiar voice cackled from behind the truck.
“Well, well! Seems like I wasn’t needed after all!”
I groaned, pinching the bridge of my nose as Maevra stepped into the light. Her hunched frame and frizzy hair made her look like she’d just stepped out of a storybook, and the knowing glint in her eyes didn’t help.
She was overweight, her round figure wrapped in layers of mismatched shawls that somehow managed to look both cozy and chaotic. Her features were a strange mix, like someone had blended the friendliest grandma you could imagine with the kind of old lady who eats naughty children for dinner.
Depending on her mood, she could radiate warmth and comfort or exude an uncanny menace that made you second-guess every decision you’d ever made. Right now, her eyes sparkled with amusement, her smile wide and toothy—leaning just far enough into "grandma" territory to be unsettling.
I glanced at Maevra, raising an eyebrow. “And what, exactly, were you planning to do if we didn’t make it out of there?”
Her warm smile didn’t falter, but something shifted in the air—a subtle change that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. The light around her seemed to dim, like the shadows themselves were leaning in closer.
“Oh,” she said, her voice dropping into something low and chilling, the edges of her words curling like smoke. “I’d have made sure that spirit wished it had never existed. No one harms my dear apprentice while he’s under my care. Not without consequences.”
The weight of her words hit me like a lead weight on my chest, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. The shadows deepened, twisting and curling like living things, and her normally warm eyes reflected something ancient, something wild. She tilted her head ever so slightly, her grin widening in a way that felt more predatory than motherly.
The air itself seemed heavier, thicker, and I found myself rooted to the spot, my mouth dry.
And just as quickly as it came, it was gone.
The shadows receded, the oppressive weight lifted, and Maevra clapped her hands together, her warm, motherly grin back in place like nothing had happened. “But that’s neither here nor there, is it?” she said cheerfully. “Now, why won't you introduce me to your new friends?”
I blinked, trying to collect myself, and glanced at Benny and Lisa. They were standing there stiffly, looking awkward but otherwise unfazed.
So it was just me, then, I thought, my mind still trying to catch up. Of course it was.
I swallowed hard, forcing a grin and nodding toward the couple. “Right. Maevra,” I said, gesturing to the others, “meet Lisa and Benny. Benny, Lisa—this is my partner and mentor, Maevra.”
Now that we were closer, they could see the faded logo of our office - a witch stirring a cauldron, a line of breadcrumbs from the base of the cauldron twists into words - 'Breadcrumb Hag Investigators'.
“Charmed, dears,” Maevra said with a warm smile, clasping her hands in front of her. “What a lovely pair you are. Hansel and Gretel, I’d say!”
“Stop that,” I muttered, glancing nervously at Benny and Lisa, who exchanged awkward looks. “You keep saying things like that, and people are going to think you’re a real hag.”
Maevra let out a hearty cackle, clearly enjoying herself. I sighed, knowing exactly what they were thinking.
Lisa managed a small smile, and Benny just fumbled his fingers, looking thoroughly confused.
“Come on,” I said, gesturing to the truck. “Let’s get going before something else tries to eat us.”
As we climbed into the truck, the low roar of an etherium engine grew louder. I glanced over my shoulder just in time to see Ana ride past us on a sleek, powerful motorcycle.
I blinked, watching her go. Her motorcycle roared as she disappeared into the distance, the sleek frame glinting like a predator in the moonlight.
“Well,” I said, deadpan, “if that’s not proof that life isn’t fair, I don’t know what is.”
Maevra cackled as she slid into the passenger seat, already pulling out her knitting needles. Benny and Lisa climbed into the back, Benny making a show of helping Lisa even though she clearly didn’t need it.
I turned the key, and the truck’s engine sputtered to life with its usual uneven rhythm, pat-patting like an asthmatic drum. “Here we go,” I muttered, steering us onto the dark road ahead.
For a while, the only sound was the hum of the engine and the occasional clack of Maevra’s needles. The air felt... lighter somehow, like the storm had passed.
I caught a glimpse of Benny and Lisa in the rearview mirror. He was cracking some lame joke, his grin wide and unapologetic, and she smiled faintly, shaking her head in mock exasperation. The bloody streaks on her cheeks didn’t make her any less radiant at that moment. They’d been through hell, but they had each other now. Maybe that was enough.
My eyes flicked to Maevra. She hummed softly as her needles worked, her hands moving with practiced ease. It was a scene so at odds with the shadowy presence I’d felt from her earlier that it made my head spin.
She’s a hag. I know it. She knows I know it. But we don’t talk about it. It’s easier that way.
Still, the thought of her watching out for me—creepy Fae moments and all—made me realize how much she’d come to mean to me. Like the grandma I’d never had, showing up to make sure I didn’t completely screw up on cases, then scolding me when I inevitably did. And between cases she took care of me with food, small comforts and small meaningless conversations. You know, normal stuff.
I exhaled softly, turning my thoughts to Ana.
The bloodhunter.
I wondered if our paths would ever cross again. Part of me hoped they wouldn’t—I wasn’t sure my ego could take another beating. But the rest of me?
Yeah, I’d like that. As allies, or maybe friendly rivals. Just... not as foes.
The road stretched out ahead, dark and endless, the faint glow of Crescenta’s skyline shimmering in the distance.
“Just another day,” I muttered, adjusting my hat as the truck rattled down the road. “Just another day in Crescenta.”
Behind me, Benny’s laughter rang out, followed by Lisa’s soft chuckle. Maevra hummed a familiar tune, and for the first time in a long while, the night didn’t seem so heavy.
And with that, we drove into the night.
THE END