Horrific Shorts: Zombie Edition

The lantern Evelyn took from Elder Hollow hadn't dimmed.

It burned with a cold flame, blue as winter's breath, and never needed oil. It illuminated things others couldn't see—shadows with no source, figures in mirrors, footsteps behind her with no body to match. She kept it covered beneath her coat, but it whispered to her in quiet moments.

One night, while camping in the dying woods near Moonfall Gorge, Evelyn was awakened by the lantern's glow.

It had uncovered itself.

And it wasn't burning alone.

A second light shimmered nearby—flickering in the shape of a woman, half-formed and translucent. Her back was arched unnaturally, hair flowing as if underwater. She hovered over the fire, hands twitching in pain, or memory.

Evelyn reached out.

"Who are you?"

The figure turned slowly.

Her face was missing—smooth, featureless, like uncarved wax. Yet Evelyn felt her sorrow like frost in her lungs.

The lantern hissed.

Then spoke.

"She was the first. The first soul I kept. Before the bell. Before the fog."

Evelyn stared at it.

"You… keep them?"

"Not all. Only those who owe a debt. Or those… who bargain."

The woman flickered. Her chest began to glow, and from it, a second flame emerged—smaller than the lantern's, but unmistakably a soul.

"She traded her name to spare her daughter. Gave it willingly. Now she is nothing."

Evelyn's hands trembled. "You said she owes nothing. She gave. That should be enough."

"Nothing is free. Names bind us. Without one, she drifts. Want her freed?"

The lantern paused.

"Then give me yours."

Evelyn hesitated.

The fire crackled. Wind whispered through the trees, speaking in voices too old to be alive.

"Give me… your name."

Her name.

The weight of it. The meaning. Everything she'd done, everything she was—gone in a breath.

She reached for the soul within the lantern.

It pulsed against her fingers.

"No," she whispered. "You don't get my name. But I will give you something else."

She unsheathed her knife.

And cut her palm.

Blood dripped onto the ground, forming a circle around the fire. She whispered a spell she had learned from the Crone of the Woods—one meant to bind, not offer.

The lantern screamed.

The soul floated free, drawn into the woman's chest. She blinked—eyes forming where once there were none. A mouth gasped. Tears welled.

Then she smiled.

And vanished with the wind.

The lantern lay still, dimmed for the first time.

Evelyn stared into its blackened glass and whispered:

"You keep nothing unless we let you."

She wrapped it tightly and walked into the woods, leaving Moonfall Gorge behind.

But as she disappeared into the fog, a faint glow returned to the lantern's eye.

And somewhere, a name was being erased.