Here Lives a Corpse
C.L. Matthews
Table of Contents
Title Page
Here Lives a Corpse (Here Lies)
Playlist
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two
Thirty-Three
Thirty-Four
Thirty-Five
Thirty-Six
Thirty-Seven
Thirty-Eight
Thirty-Nine
Acknowledgements
© 2020 C.L. Matthews
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Format: Opulent Swag and Designs
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To Reread Squad and my Betas.
Y’all told me not to give up.
To publish this book.
Because of you, I did.
Special appreciation to Nicki and Cass.
I love you both dearly.
Judge if you want, we are all going to die.
I intend to deserve it.
Anonymous
Playlist
Blood // Water – Grandson
Sarcasm – Get Started
Be Kind – Halsey
My Immortal – Evanescence
I’m Not a Vampire – Falling in Reverse
Black SpiderMan by Logic
Middle Finger by Bohnes
Ohio is For Lovers by Hawthorne Heights
ihateit – Underoath
Count It Up – Fame on Fire
Such a Whore (Baddest Remix) – JVLA
Reinventing Your Exit – Underoath
Coming Back Down – Hollywood Undead
Black Swan – BTS
Little Poor Me – Layto
The Mystic – Adam Jensen
Alone – I Prevail
My Heart I Surrender – I Prevail
True Friends – Bring Me The Horizon
Prologue
Death has a stench.
It's stagnant and stale but still pervades each hollow moment. Sticking to everything it brushes, death and its clinging nature surround the world.
But at this moment, it's enveloping me.
Is this the end? My... end.
Woods encircle me, trees tall and voracious in structure imbuing the forest around Arcadia. My feet hit the fallen branches, cloying the universe with the sounds of my retreating form.
Please, spare me.
I'm sorry!
My heart pounds, a rapt noise hitting my bones, instilling more fear than the footfalls I know are behind me.
Snap, snap, snap. Their feet bite at the twigs, crunching with every movement. How close are they? Are they friend or foe?
But my gut knows. It feels the danger and promise. They're here to kill me.
My life isn't meant to be over. I'm still a teenager. I haven’t yet begun to live.
When you're forced into a family-based society saturated in blood money, murderers, and secrets that ensure danger at every move, this moment in my life isn't that foretelling, is it?
It's too dark.
The lake is nearby, the boulder, too. If only the trees were enough coverage from the brightness that seems to reflect down on me like a spotlight. But no, the moon hangs high, shining, showing my retreating form.
Even the birds have taken a silence, almost predicting an end cut far too soon.
Everything that'll save the young ones, the information needed to save us all, is within the files.
They've only got to find them.
I'm impacted from behind, my body falling to the ground. The thief of my breath tackles me, my air no longer inside me. Frantic, I brush off the figure and bolt in the opposite direction.
They'll save me.
They can help.
My chest heaves with adrenaline and the instinct to stay alive. I scream, begging for help, needing someone to know, just one person.
"Please! Help me!" I screech, knowing my voice will travel, carry across the trees, maybe to the ears of nearby students.
I need more time.
"Help!" My voice echoes, my throat growing drier from running and breathing too fast.
Fear is my only savior.
"Please—" I begin again before I'm once again taken down. This time, though, my ankle twists to the point of pain, and my scream is cut off short by a hand on my mouth.
Whimpering, I silently beg for my life.
I'm just a kid, my eyes say.
I haven't lived yet, my chest rises.
This isn't how my story is supposed to end, my tears offer.
The white light of the moon crests down upon me and the face of my murderer, and I gasp in recognition. He only moves his hand for a wink, a tiny moment lapsed in the blink of time, right before the knife he wields pierces through me. But that's not enough, is it?
The knife comes down.
Again.
And again.
And again.
One
Silence drags along my skin like my favorite blades. It’s voiceless, careless, staunching me with desperation to be seen. My scars are ugly, big, and scraggly, too. They beg for attention, as a motherless child lost in the woods would.
Can you hear me now?
Can I die yet?
Most people wake up with the thought in mind to con
quer the day, but me? I pray that my lover, death, keeps me snuggled a bit longer.
Did you know the theory that sleep is your affair with death? You’re halfway there. You must keep your eyes closed longer.
This past summer, I begged my parents not to make me go back to Arcadia Crest. It’s not the same without Cassidy. It’s not even remotely bearable with him gone, but their indulgence for my needs left the building when he did.
Nothing seems to be tolerable anymore. Even breathing is a chore.
Like the dicks my parents have always been about their image, they told me I’m going. They’ve invested too much into the school to allow me to transfer to Cello Academy for girls, but I couldn’t help but try.
Arcadia Crest Academy—a huge preppy dick school in the middle of the mountains—is a wasteland for people like me.
Escaping Arcadia for good was the energy pushing me through the remainder of my sophomore year and the following summer. It kept me looking forward and not behind.
In the end, that final gavel—telling me that it wouldn’t happen—ruined all hope for peace.
When founder blood runs through you, you’re expected to bend for societal norms and to do what they expect and desire, a puppet of their own making. Being there sucks the soul straight from my body, plastering it over the halls for every elite douchebag to watch and smear.
It’s one of those schools that promises everything and, in turn, takes and takes until there’s less than nothing left of you. No one notices until it’s too late. That’s what it did to Cass. To me. To everyone who didn’t luck out. Even when their souls aren’t stolen, did they really come out triumphant? Or did they lose it all in another form?
Today, I’m supposed to move back to campus in a new tower. Crystal Tower, the one I was in before, only houses Student Gov. Since I’m no longer involved, I’m forced to relocate. We have live-in dorms at the school.
My mind falls to my brother while being reminded of the tower we shared. Cassidy Amos Hudson. Thinking of his nearly translucent silvery hair that used to match mine makes me sick. Not with nostalgia, no, with the memory of it coated thick with blood, tainting the ethereal appearance of it.
He’s gone.
I shake my head at the memories of him. It’s the only way to survive, the only way I won’t break down. Mom doesn’t like a hysterical daughter. It’s a stain on her perfect image. She doesn’t understand. If she did, she’d have allowed me to transfer to Cello.
Where they aren't.
Does she want me to live in a constant hell? In a school full of fakes, bullies, and trauma? There’s no longer a choice—if there ever was.
I’m heading back to Arcadia, whether I want to or not. It’s in a remote area in the Fraiser Mountains, away from politics, publicity, and normal people. To be the opposite of a social pariah while being one... interesting tactic.
After dressing in my normal not-Arcadia-approved clothes, I head to my vanity to put on my face. Immediately, I startle when connecting with my reflection. The once silvery hair is now a toxic green, matching the virulent lifelessness seeping through me.
A virus, just like my existence.
It reflects the death of a girl, bringing forth a despaired zombie filled to the brim with hatred for herself, the world, and every asshole whoever did her harm.
My silvery pale blue eyes, twins to my brother’s, no longer stare back at me. I don’t allow myself to look at them anymore. Every day since spring break last semester, I cover them with bright pink contact lenses. They don’t even look fake. If you never met me, you’d believe it’s the natural color of my eyes, and it’s why I’m constantly wearing them.
I’m not him. He’s not me. We look nothing alike anymore.
My parents appreciate my need to stop mirroring my brother. That’s why they can still look at me. It’s why they haven’t entirely shut me out.
Changing my entire appearance saved them from the pain of seeing the near doppelgänger of the child they lost.
“Colton!” my mother yells from somewhere downstairs, her voice careless and almost empty, just like every conversation we share.
I ignore her like usual, take out my liquid liner, and mask my face as I’ve done for the past one hundred and thirty-seven days without him.
My heart squeezes in my chest as the image of my brother’s lifeless body filters through the barricade in my mind, tumbling it down once more before I erect a new one in its place, this time stronger, less caring, more dangerous.
“Stop ignoring me!” she hisses, making me roll my eyes. When she pretends to care, it’s almost funny. Mom hates being put aside as she’s done to me most of my life. Tough shit. Drink your own medicine, Mother.
I hurry and put some mascara on and stare at the emo punk staring back at me. A long distant memory of the girl I once was, that’s for sure. That girl was weak. I’ll never be weak again.
After grabbing my Poké Ball backpack, I dredge down the carousel of stairs to the foyer. Mom waits with her arms crossed. Her blonde hair—not as light as mine or Cassidy’s—is perfectly styled, slick straight. Like a model about to command attention as she struts the runway, she stares at me without compassion.
Did she die too? Is there a person left behind the shell she hides in? Was there ever?
She’s in her black pinstripe pants suit, tucked satin blouse, and Louboutins. You see, Mom is one of the strongest women in the Diamond industry. Shocker, right? She could’ve stayed a model, probably would have made her more caring. Or maybe I’m reaching. It’s debatable.
“Where’s Moms?” I ask, wondering where my other mom is.
Yeah, I have two. Destiny and Tasha Hudson. They’re inseparable. Two peas in a goddamn pod. Moms—Destiny—doesn’t know how to say no to me, so she always has Mom—Tasha—deal with me when it's anything of importance. Luckily for them both, I’m not bartering today. I’m just going to suck it up until I graduate next year.
“She had to be at Locust early today,” Mom answers, avoiding my gaze.
Moms works from home most of the time, so saying she had to be at the winery at six in the morning on a Wednesday is far from the truth. She hasn't had to be readily available at the winery for years, anything to excuse her inability to stand up for herself.
“Cool. Guess I’ll drive myself then...” I muse, pausing because it’s against the rules to have a car at Arcadia. We’re literally like Hunger Games tributes out there, stranded, forced to fend for ourselves in the woods while getting an elite education. Puh-lease. It’s a bunch of bullshit, but I digress.
“Absolutely not.”
I stare at her and recall how she can only look at me since I hide any trace of my brother.
When he first died, she wouldn’t look at me. Cass and I were Irish twins. Born eleven months apart and practically identical in appearances. We had the same lips, nose, eyes, and even the little dimple on our right cheeks. We never talked about how we were conceived. It’s a taboo subject, and it’s definitely not something our parents ever willingly discussed.
Rolling my eyes at the way she searches my face for recognition, I wait for her compromise. There’s always a compromise.
“I can—”
“God, no,” I interrupt. “Don’t need everyone gawking at me for having the richest woman in Arcadia bringing me to school. At least Moms is discrete. We both know you’re far from it.”
She closes her eyes as if I’m the biggest pain in her life. She’s not wrong. Cass is no longer here to be the bad one. While he partied and stayed out all hours, I didn’t. He got the better grades between us, but his desire to rebel made me seem like the golden child. Doesn’t make me hate her less for forcing me to live at the cesspool most students willingly call home. Does her image really overrule my comfort?
Yes. Yes, it does.
“This can’t be all you’re taking?” She balks at my backpack that barely holds any books.
Her ignoring my comment makes me want to lash out and force
her to care. Mom has been the least caring of my two parents. She always pushes me away, and I miss when she would get mad at my rampant hissy fits. I miss her wanting to teach me, wanting... me.
“Yang has all my stuff in her dorm as they relocate me,” I lie easily.
Yang graduated last year. Not that Mom would ever pay attention. Yang was my best and only friend after Cass was gone. Without her, I’ll no doubt be struggling.
To be honest, I have nothing and no one. After getting kicked out of Crystal, the third tower—the one that houses Student Government—my stuff disappeared. All the clothing, memories, everything that had traces of Cass... it’s gone. To make things even worse, I’m a social pariah, and no one talks to me.
They kicked me out after Cassidy’s funeral. Not just out of the tower, but out of Student Gov, too. When no one showed up as Cass was buried, it stole all my hope and made me realize they would never protect me as they promised.
Not that I care, anyway. I’m not the same girl from last year.
I’m reborn or, rather, re-deathed. Killed again, born again, whatever you want to label it.
“Oh, perfect. I’ll get Sheldon to pick you up since you can’t stand me on campus.”
“Mom—” I start, not wanting her to think I don’t want her around. I do, just not like this. She’s the biggest donor at my school, a celebrity in the town, and a fucking spotlight of privilege. It’s debilitating, to say the least.
“I’ll see you fall break. Bye, sweetie.”
She doesn’t even kiss me or hug me anymore. Our relationship severed when Cassidy’s lifeline did.
Sheldon drives me to campus. She doesn’t bother me the entire way. One thing I love about my parents’ best friend is that she doesn’t prod.
I plug in my wireless earbuds and listen to My Immortal by Evanescence on repeat until we arrive. She taps my shoulder, forcing me to remove my headphones.
“Just want you to know I miss him, too.”
I hiccough, choking on a sob lodged in my throat. Shelly’s azure eyes stare at me with emotions that refuse to rise in me.
“Thank you, Shelly. Needed the reminder he existed,” I whisper. My brother, my best friend, and the biggest pain in my ass, he’s gone. Truly, utterly, dead.
Here Lives a Corpse: A Dark Bully Academy Romance (Here Lies Book 1) Page 1