Part 3My Pet Zombie King

I wasn't actually lying.

Everyone at school knew the campus sweetheart, Luna, and I were twin sisters.

But the truth was, we shared no blood.

When I was seven, I wandered off and got abducted.

My mother wept day and night until her mind nearly broke. To save her sanity, my father adopted a girl from the local orphanage and gave her my name.

Luna.

The bright, beautiful moon.

The fake Luna was naturally gorgeous, outgoing, and charming. She quickly smoothed over my mother's grief and completely took my place.

Eventually, no one ever spoke of the lost child again.

Eight years later, the police brought me back to my family's doorstep.

I was dangerously skinny, tanned dark from working in the sun, and socially stunted from years of abuse. I was wearing a pair of filthy canvas shoes with holes in the toes.

I stood in front of that beautiful suburban mansion, too terrified to take a step inside.

My parents stared at me for a long time.

It was as if they had suddenly remembered that the perfect, shining daughter standing beside them wasn't actually theirs.

The next day, the family released a statement.

The twin sister who had been stolen at birth was finally found.

They named me Niki.

A star.

Just a tiny, insignificant star meant to orbit the moon.

Luna insisted on keeping the day she was adopted as her birthday. Naturally, as her supposed twin, my birthday had to be the exact same day.

Whenever I mentioned wanting to celebrate my actual birthday, her eyes would well up with tears.

"Does Niki not want to be my twin anymore?" she would ask. "If our birthdays are different, everyone will know I am a fake."

My parents hated seeing her upset.

From that day on, my real birthday was strictly forbidden in the house.

No cake.

No flowers.

I wasn't even allowed to mention it to my friends.

Eventually, I just stopped celebrating altogether.

Honestly, I didn't care that much. I bumped my head during the kidnapping and lost most of my memories before age five anyway. I didn't remember what it felt like to be loved by them, so losing it didn't hurt.

Plus, my life now was infinitely better than when I was taken. I had food. I had warm clothes. Nobody beat me. I was satisfied.

But right now, I needed to play the ultimate victim card.

I needed Benjamin to remember I was a miserable, tragic little thing when he woke up, hoping it would dilute his murderous rage.

I cried like my life depended on it. Which it did.

"Benjamin."

"You are the very first person to ever buy me a birthday cake."

Benjamin's heart practically shattered on the spot.

He clumsily raised a hand, wanting to touch me but terrified of breaking me.

Finally, he used the sleeve of his shirt to gently wipe a tear from my cheek.

"Luna... please do not cry."

"I will get you one... every single year."

I buried my face in his chest and wailed even louder.

Faking it, obviously.

Benjamin held me awkwardly, his large palm patting my back as if I were made of glass.

Pressed against his chest, I inhaled the crisp, cool scent of him. There was absolutely no rotting stench like the other zombies outside.

Glancing up, I caught a glimpse of the sharp lines of his chest through his torn collar.

Lower down, those abs were definitely still there.

Lord have mercy.