Sharing a Grave: A Pair of Corpse Demons

Longcheng was built on layers of bones. Every meter of foundation dug up revealed human bones. The yin energy underground was so dense it turned to black water, seeping through cracks in the walls and dripping onto your pillow.

She sat up in a coffin that had lain for a thousand years. Her skin was pale as porcelain, her lashes white as snow. She had no heart in her chest, yet it still hurt.

For a thousand years, she had combed her hair in front of a bronze mirror. Her ink-black hair fell to her waist, and every stroke of the comb brought strands down with blood. The reflection in the mirror wasn’t her face. It was a hairless skeleton.

The first time they met, each wanted to kill the other.

“Who are you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then get lost.”

“My feet won’t let me.”

Deep underground, that thing laughed. “The mommies are so protective of each other.”

They said in unison, “Who’s protecting her?”

A marriage contract lay beneath the threshold of the funeral home. The recipient’s name had been obscured by blood for a thousand years.

Tonight, the ink was spreading wildly.