June Challenge - "The man she buried is back and knocking."

Lizzie is working at her uncle's funeral home and living in the apartment in the back after losing her job and everything in her life except her cats. One night a man she had seen in a casket earlier that day came knocking on her door. He told Lizzie of a secret organization that were responsible for the secrets of the world, and how he faked his death in order to share one with the world, and how he needed her help.

The dead have come knocking. Now Ella, the last of the Midnight Riders, must confront both past and future to protect the Codex—and everyone she's ever loved.

For three days she’s waited in a remote cabin, bracing for the moment she's long foreseen: her death. With her order gone and only the man she once killed at her side, Ella must face the Golden Dawn. Because the Codex must remain hidden, and she will stop at nothing to ensure it.

A thunderstorm and some knocks wakes Audrey up in the middle of the night. To her surprise, she does not only realise a familiar face in the flashlight, she also realises, that something else seems to be off. She turns around and finds herself in her room, but it suddenly has vintage furnitures, an old lamp and the next day, she realises that only some houses and the cathedral in the distance have not changed too much. The rest looks completely different from the world she has known.

A woman is haunted by the man that she killed. He is at her door every night, reminding her of what she did.

The man she buried is back and knocking, drenched from head to toe, his long black hair shining through the midnight sky. He was looking to the ground as if to hide the bloodlust reflecting from his pupils. I didn’t know whether to call her or wait until he left. As I stared at the video monitor waiting for him to try the backdoor or send a rock through our window, It was difficult to not be in awe of how he managed to survive her wrath. My sister was never a violent being, but one human can only be pushed so far. Through the monotonous sharp tapping coming from the door down the hall, flashbacks start to invade my mind one by one. The accusation, the argument, the pushing. Nobody was reared for what happened next...

The man she buried is back and knocking, drenched from head to toe, his long black hair shining through the midnight sky. He was looking to the ground as if to hide the bloodlust reflecting from his pupils. I didn’t know whether to call her or wait until he left. As I stared at the video monitor waiting for him to try the backdoor or send a rock through our window, It was difficult to not be in awe of how he managed to survive her wrath. My sister was never a violent being, but one human can only be pushed so far. Through the monotonous sharp tapping coming from the door down the hall, flashbacks start to invade my mind one by one. The accusation, the argument, the pushing. Nobody was prepared for what happened next...

A wealthy woman gets rid of her husband, or does she?

Some things we bury don't stay gone.

Some voices find their way back—no matter how far you run.

She buried him in the cold.

But grief made her wet.

Sometimes a chance meeting changes everything.