Dark Thread

by Crymsyn Hart

  “Why did you raise him?”

  “It wasn’t intentional. Back in high school, I was messed up and ended up in the wrong crowd, completely goth and hardcore. His father didn’t want me to be with him. We made this pact that if we couldn’t be together in life, we were going to be together in death. We ended up in the cemetery together, and he slit his wrists first. I took the knife with his blood still on it and slashed my wrist.” She held out her right arm and pointed out where the scar was. “I got as far as this and chickened out. I didn’t want to die. I enjoyed my life. Apparently, that was my first ritual and sealed my deal of being a necromancer. A life had been given, and our blood had mingled. He followed me as I traveled all around the country in my car. I got pretty good at fixing it up, too. It needs a new fuel pump at this point, but I haven’t had the chance to bring it somewhere to have it replaced. I was in this diner a couple of towns over and saw this ad in the paper for an undertaker’s assistant. I figured, hell, why not? I’d had worse jobs, and it said no experience needed, so I called.

  “Abner sat down with me. He told me the job was a little unorthodox. Hell, I didn’t mind because I was a little unconventional myself. I needed the money and a place to stay. I signed all the forms, he gave me the key, and—”

  “He didn’t tell you anything about the supernatural, or did you know anything about it beforehand?” Rory asked.

  Darria played with the spoon in her bowl. “No. I knew nothing about it. I mean ... I believed in ghosts but nothing about werewolves or fairies. The key shifts with each person. I don’t know whether or not it will switch its shape for you. I don’t have any papers for you to sign or how we work out paying you. I guess that can come later. I’m still working out all the technical details myself. We’ll work it this way because I’m sure in the old days, there was no paperwork. Maybe they sold their souls.”

  His face paled, and then, he burst into laughter. “Funny. So, I take the key, and that’s it?”

  She bit her lip and thought about some type of formal ceremony they could do to make it stick and have him abide by her rules. If some of the rules weren’t followed to the letter, consequences could ensue. Darria didn’t want to see Rory getting hurt. She held up her right hand. “Hold up your right hand and repeat after me. ‘I, Rory....’ Um, what’s your last name?”

  “Johnson.” He held up his hand.

  “‘I, Rory Johnson, swear to do whatever my boss, the undertaker, Darria Savege, says, no matter how crazy or how off-putting it sounds. I am bound to the undertaker calling, no matter where it takes me.’”

  Rory repeated after her. After he said all the words, it did feel like something had been sealed between them. With the cast of characters she already had, having another actual person in the house would bring a little normalcy. Rory could stay in the house or move into the apartment above the garage. It would be easier than him living across the street.

  “Place the key somewhere on one of your arms.”

  Rory put it on several spots on his arm and turned his wrist over so that it sat on the inside of his right wrist. Lavender energy arced around the metal until it slowly sunk into his flesh, becoming one with him. The lines of the key were perfectly etched into his skin. Any artist would marvel at the shading and details.

  “That is so fucking cool.” Rory traced his fingers over the key.

  Darria’s arm twitched because she could feel the sensation of him touching the key. Abner hadn’t had a tattoo of a key on his arm. She had the original version of it. “I meant what I said. There are certain things you’re going to have to do, or it could mean either you or me getting killed, most likely you because you set up the room and stuff.”

  His expression dropped. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously. Come on. I’ll show you downstairs.” Darria led him to the back door. “I have all the entrances to the house under a spell, so no one gets in or out without my permission.” She led him down into the hall. “We keep the cellar door closed when I’m not working, so you don’t fall down the stairs.” As she went down the stairs, she remembered the woman who had tried to kill her right after she had put the gorgons back in their place. “This door and the rest of the basement is enchanted so that nothing gets in or out.” She pushed open the heavy, metal door and stepped into the workroom. “I know you’ve been down here. I don’t know what Marie’s told you or not told you, so if you hear it again—fuck it. I don’t care. You’re going to hear it again.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She turned and slid the bolt into place on the door at the top and then the other one right above the knob. “The door is lined with iron and silver. Do you know what the cabinet is?”

  Rory stepped toward it. Darria waited for the Wunderkammer to zap the unsuspecting boy, but it seemed to be behaving. He reached out to touch the glass and then pulled his hand back. “It’s a Wunderkammer, a cabinet of curiosities. What’s inside of it?”

  “Trace the outline of the key,” she instructed.

  Rory did what she told him. The key came to life and fell out of his skin. “No freakin’ way. What now?”

  “Use the key to open the cabinet. The key can open anything. If you lose it, think about it and call it back to you.”

  Rory slid the key into the lock and turned it until the cabinet popped open. She pulled out her implements and placed them on the worktable. “This is what I use to sew up the lips of the corpses that come here for processing. You’ll be in charge of setting up the room and making sure the body is on the worktable. You now have the strength to lift several hundred pounds, and you have the longevity of the undertakers. We place the coins on the eyes of the dead so that Oliver can take their souls. Some end up in his cemetery, and others move on. It all depends.” Darria gathered the rest of the tools, placed them back into the bowl, and put them into the cabinet. She took the key from Rory and put it back on his wrist, so it became one with his flesh once more.

  Darria slumped in one of the chairs by the old desk and looked up at her new assistant. His eyes were glazed with wonderment. She understood what he was thinking and feeling because she had been there, but she wasn’t going to keep him in the dark unless it was something for his safety. Maybe that’s why Abner kept pushing off not showing me the business … because he wanted to keep me safe. She shook her head and dismissed the raging thoughts.

  “What’s wrong?” Rory touched her arm.

  She glanced up and saw the troubled expression the teenager wore. “More than you know. I have a big list I have to get to. I guess I need to start with this.” She gestured to the large safety pin. Darria ran her fingers over the safety pin and let it fall out of her skin. Rory gasped. She held the large pin in her palm and concentrated. The energy in it pulsated like a heartbeat. Darria sensed death energy attached to it and got a flash in her mind of another undertaker. It rose above her palm and spun slowly, a compass pointing in the direction the dead were supposed to walk. Rory went to touch it when she caught his hand. She shot him a glance, and he withdrew it.

  “What is it doing?” Rory asked.

  “I have no idea.” The pin shot across the room to the chimney. The pointy end of the pin buried itself deep in the brick. She tried to pull it out, but it wasn’t budging. “We need Marie, and I need to get changed.”

  Darria went upstairs and found Marie sitting at the table, sipping her coffee.

  “I need your assistance when you have a moment.”

  “Okay. Let me finish my coffee, and then, we can go on an adventure.”

  Darria wanted to ask her how she knew that, but she kept her mouth closed and headed upstairs to get changed. She caught a look at herself in the mirror and really studied her reflection. None of her skin had become shrunken or gray. Nothing had changed when it came to her appearance at all, even from taking the undertaker job four years ago. She hadn’t gotten another wrinkle, and she had never felt better, but her eyes showed a hint of darkness that hadn’t been there before. At l
east she could understand the gargoyle, so that was a step in the right direction.

  She headed back downstairs. Rory changed into a different superhero T-shirt with three metal claws cutting through a silver X. Darria figured it was an X-Men shirt. She might not have been much into comics, but she enjoyed the movies. Marie was dressed in a white skirt and black shirt with sandals. Her hair hung to her waist.

  “We’re going somewhere, I hear.” Omar skittered across the floor.

  Gabbie sat in the middle of the kitchen and stretched out. “I’m going to stay here and watch the house. One of us has to.”

  “Thanks, Gabbie. I appreciate that. If Oliver stops by, will you....” Darria shook her head. Him throwing her out of the graveyard and taking back the coin cut her heart more than she wanted to admit to herself. “Never mind. We’ll be back soon.” She led the crew down into the basement.

  The pin remained embedded within the bricks. Darria tried to pry it out, but no matter how much she pulled, the safety pin didn’t budge. The bricks glowed green.

  “Don’t pull it,” Marie finally instructed.

  “Why not?” Darria asked.

  “What does a pin do?” Marie put her hands on her hips.

  “It pins stuff,” Rory said.

  “Well, yes, but think a little bit more outside of the box,” Marie answered.

  Darria looked at the pin and felt a tingle in her arm. She glanced down at her right arm and saw the needle glowing purple, but the concentration of energy was at the tip. The needle was her tool to pierce the lips of the dead so that she could pull the thread through. It was sharp enough that she should have poked herself, but all her needles remained blunt.

  “It pierces things and holds them together.”

  “Yes, but the pin is more than that. All of the objects given to the undertakers are more than what they seem. The pin can hold something together, and it can also poke a hole into something. This one is obviously showing you someplace it wants to go.”

  “How would it know where it wants to go?” Rory asked.

  “Because all the objects have a life of their own. The key placed an ad online and in a newspaper. The pin must know where the next undertaker in its line is and wants to get to him or her,” Darria explained.

  Marie squeezed her shoulder. “See, you’re getting the hang of this already. I bet you don’t need me anymore.”

  “Don’t count on it. Why wasn’t this activating before?”

  “It could be that it wasn’t time yet, or it didn’t consider you a full undertaker because you didn’t have an assistant. I don’t know. Each piece is fickle when it comes to whom it chooses and when.”

  “What am I looking for when it comes to your line? Wasn’t it wiped out, too?” Darria asked the other woman.

  Marie trailed her fingers over her arm. One of the poppies had withered away. Marie flashed her a questioning gaze. “My line received a bone.”

  “What kind of a bone?” Rory asked. The fascination in his voice didn’t cease to amaze Darria. She had to put herself in his shoes and remember that this was all new to him. Sometimes, the supernatural might be fascinating, but that didn’t mean that she put her guard down.

  “Bones are an important thing. They are used for support. You can cast bones to read the future. They are an anchor to the physical world. They keep us grounded. They are a connection to the spirit world. My bone was a finger bone, and it changed to a leg bone, the femur.”

  “I’m looking for a bone. Okay, I can deal with that.” Darria turned to the safety pin. Once she pressed the metal near the clasp, the safety pin slid out of the bricks easily. She put it back together, and the bricks glowed green. The whole thing shook, and mortar flaked off onto the floor. She held it back onto her arm, but it didn’t want to sink back into her. She felt the spark inside of it being tied to something outside of her.

  Look, I can’t carry you in my pocket, and this is only until you find whoever you’re going to. The pin reluctantly folded into her skin. The wall opened up, and on the other side, the sun was rising. They looked out over a landscape of mountains and a large field. Darria held her breath and stepped through the portal. When she crossed, she turned behind her and saw Rory and Marie back in her basement. Marie tried to cross the barrier, but she was not able to. Rory passed through.

  “Omar, you still there?” Darria asked.

  He squeezed her shoulder but didn’t make a peep. All she sensed from him was a bit of trepidation. Why is he so fearful?

  “Why can’t Marie come with us?” Rory asked.

  Marie shrugged.

  “I guess we’ll find out. I told you, I don’t know all the ins and outs.”

  The air was clear and cold. Darria looked around and saw that they were near a log cabin with smoke billowing out of the top of the chimney. The place was a picture-perfect scene that she would see in a painting hanging over a bed in a hotel room. Something remained off about it. She stretched out her senses, and something cold and dead drew her attention.

  “Which way do we go?” Rory asked.

  Darria gazed at the cabin, but her senses told her to go in another direction.

  Follow the dead.

  She followed her necromantic sense and headed to the left, toward the dark woods. “We go this way.” Darria forged a path through the brambles and climbed over the fallen logs, forging further toward the dead.

  “We have to go in here?” His voice rose with fear.

  Chapter 11

  Darria ventured further into the woods. It grew darker and scarier. The atmosphere prickled her skin. Rory trampled over the foliage. If anyone was waiting for them, they knew they were coming. Omar remained silent while they walked.

  “Why are you keeping your mouth shut?” Darria asked him.

  “You took away my body. I’m a little pissed.”

  “I can bring your body back whenever I want. I get that you wanted to thank me, but I didn’t need you pushing back at me. Besides, I’m still learning how to be the new person I am after coming together. We can talk about this later. I can’t have you and Oliver shunning me at the same time. I need someone to lean on.”

  “You got a new plaything. Why not use him?”

  She bit her tongue and finally understood the sudden pissiness. It had nothing to do with her taking away his body. “You do know I’m not getting rid of you, right? Just because I have an official assistant, that doesn’t mean I’m going to drop you like a hot potato. I doubt Rory’s going to be making any sexual advances on me.”

  “What am I supposed to be not doing?” Rory asked.

  Darria remembered that the teenager couldn’t hear her familiar. Rory caught up to her as they ventured deeper into the woods. “Omar’s personality is a little....”

  “Dirty.”

  “Yeah. You could say that. He keeps trying to get into my pants. And—”

  “You’ve let him?” His eyebrows rose.

  Darria didn’t have to follow his train of thought to know where her assistant was going with it. She put up her hands, waving off the thought. “What! No! Ew. I love Omar as my helper. He’s been assisting me this past year and a half while I’ve been figuring all this shit out. I haven’t entertained the notion of him and me ever being intimate. Besides, there is only so much that can be done with a hand.”

  “Okay. Okay. I get it. You haven’t gone from Night of the Living Dead to Erotic Night of the Living Dead Hand,” Rory chuckled. Darria had to admit it was kinda funny.

  Darria felt Omar squeeze her waist with both hands, but his body hadn’t materialized.

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “You said you loved me.”

  “Of course I do. You’re a pain in my ass, but you don’t need to be jealous of Rory. He’s not going to take your spot. No matter how many assistants I go through. You’re one of a kind, Omar.” Darria patted the mummified appendage to reassure him.

  “What about Oliver?” Omar asked. �
�Do you love him more than me?”

  This was not a conversation she wanted to be having in the middle of some freaky woods. “Can we talk about this some other time, please?”

  “Ah, Darria.” Rory poked her.

  “One sec.”

  “I think you need to talk about this now.” Omar jabbed her with his bony middle finger.

  “Darria!” Rory called her a little louder, his voice wavering with terror.

  “What is it?” She focused on her assistant.

  “We need to get moving.”

  She followed his extended finger and saw what was coming at them at full speed: a large bull, bigger than a buffalo, with red, glowing eyes and horns, pointed directly at them. Dread slammed her heart into overdrive. There was nowhere for them to run. The whole forest grew silent. The earth shook from the thunder of its hooves. It took out whole trees as if they were matchsticks as it charged. Darria nearly got lost in that hellish gaze. Rory grabbed her arm, shaking her from the hypnotizing eyes of the animal. Her assistant yanked her behind him as he bolted from the bull. She ran until the hot breath of the bull burned along her back. If she glanced back, it would be there waiting to gore her. They ran until she could barely catch her breath and couldn’t feel her legs. They stopped. Her assistant was winded. Darria finally dared to look in the direction they had come. The bull vanished. The patch it should have trampled hadn’t been beaten down by any hooves. Branches remained perfect as if nothing had touched them. Omar hung on to her shoulder, digging into the cloth of her shirt. Darria clasped a nearby tree, her legs wobbling.

  “I don’t think I’ve run that fast or that far in a long time.”

  “Me either. Where did it go?”

  Darria needed a drink to parch her scratchy throat. “I don’t know, but something that big doesn’t disappear.”

  Her left arm tingled. The green around the safety pin had gotten brighter. They were headed in the right direction. It meant they had to head back in the direction of the bull. Darria ran her fingers over the pin, and it became more solid. It wanted to go to its new owner, which meant they were close. She moved her hand in the direction of the path from where they had run, and it warmed her arm. When she turned in a different direction, it softened. Darria sighed. They had to go back in the direction of the bull, not something she wanted to do. She tugged on her apprentice’s shirt.