Necromantia: Vol. 1-3 (Three Book Set)

by Matthew Buza

  “Well, with all due respect, it isn't just getting to me. I actually don't feel safe.”

  Rowe lifted his right hand as if testing some unseen breeze. “I would be careful there. That isn't just a statement about your feelings, but a statement about us. About this facility. I think this facility is very safe. We have worked long and hard. We've put in good protocols that protect our staff from incidents. I can promise you we are reviewing your incident to see if there is anything that might need to change to avoid what happened. But understand this very clearly, things like this happen and a good facility doesn't just sweep it under the rug. Understand? Here at Tennison, we are happy to learn from our mistakes and we strive to make ourselves better.”

  Isaac could feel the defensive tone in Rowe's voice. “I understand that, sir. I don't mean to make accusations or anything of the sort. I just want to ask if there is another role or position I could have? That is all I am asking. I just want something new. I am not trying to accuse Tennison of anything.”

  Rowe leaned back in his chair and stared off at the ceiling contemplating ideas. His finger gently rubbed the cross under his shirt. He quickly sucked back on his bottom lip as he squinted his eyes. “Alright, you're a medical student, right?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What year are you?”

  “This is my second year. I've got an undergrad in biology.”

  “Alright, you're tired of working the shit shift here at Tennison, right?” He paused taking a deep breath. “You need to understand that I'm short staffed right now. In the beginning, the interns were just side workers, but now we're relying on you guys. So if I let you go, I'm going to have to try and fill the role. It'll leave me in the lurch.”

  “I understand, is there some way we could make it work?”

  “Well, how about this. I keep you on the Saturday shift. You continue to work your current shift, with that friend of yours, while I try to connect you with another job.”

  “I completely understand if there is a transition period. There's another position you know of?”

  “Isaac, there are always other jobs available. I know of a job. But I can't promise it will be any easier than what you are doing now. If there is any consolation, I know for a fact you won't be dealing with jailed criminals every day.”

  Isaac's face brightened up. “Well I'm open to any opportunity. Do you know what that role is?”

  “The job is hard to describe. If you want the position, and if he is willing to take you, you will be working for a doctor who works with the dead a lot. That is probably the best way I can describe it.”

  “Is he a coroner or mortician?”

  “Well, sort of. I've known this man for a long time. We go way back. I know he's been looking for some new help for a while. You would have to interview with him so I can't promise you will get the position.”

  Isaac's eyes were wide with excitement. For the first moment in nearly a week, he felt like things were turning in his favor. “Sir, I'm very grateful that you are willing to help like this.”

  “Well, I owe this guy a favor so sending you his way will be good for me too. It will get him off my back, at least for a while.”

  “Do I need to call him to set up the interview?”

  “No, I will give him a call and I will get back with you later tonight or tomorrow.”

  “This is amazing, sir. Thank you so much.”

  “No problem, but let me ask you a few questions that will help me when I speak with him.” Isaac nodded excitedly. “You're a strong guy, right? I think this job will require it.”

  “Well, I'm no slouch.”

  “Yeah, well, at least if it's not some pint-sized fireball in D cell. He will like your size and strength a lot. There is some physical labor involved with the position, so you should fit in nicely. He doesn't mind too much about having to teach people, he just needs a strong guy who is willing to learn.”

  “I think I can be that for him.”

  “You need to understand that this job, if you get it, will be something that will help define a career. Are you prepared for that?”

  “Well, I think so. It is just an internship.”

  “It is, but it could be more for you.”

  Isaac sat and stared at Rowe thinking over the moment. He could feel a chill roll over his back. In the past, he was guilty of backing out on opportunities and missing those rare chances presented to people as they journey through life. More than ever he was determined to succeed and push off that past self. He nodded at Rowe, indicating he understood the gravity of the situation.

  “OK Isaac, I need to get back to this work. I will give him a call and try to set up an interview.”

  Isaac stood up and could barely contain his smile. “I can't believe you are willing to help me out. I was very nervous about asking.”

  “Tennison is always happy to help.” Isaac stood and shook Rowe's hand and turned to leave. “One last question.”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “What do you think happened in that cell the other day? After you woke up.”

  “I'm not sure what you mean?”

  “Why do you think she was having all those issues? She was normally a quiet woman.”

  “I think she was hallucinating. It was as if she were speaking to someone. I still can't remember much.”

  “Alright, that is good to know. Have a good night, Isaac.”

  Isaac's large frame bent through the doorway as he left the office. He was smiling from ear to ear as he walked down the hall to join the others in the locker room. If things worked out, it might be one of the last night shifts he would have to work in a long while.

  Behind Isaac, Director Rowe walked out into the office. He whispered to the secretary, “Can you get me the number for Lazarus?”

  She replied in a hushed tone, “Lazarus, sir?”

  “Yes. He will be happy with the new find.”

  “A new apprentice?”

  “I think so. We'll see how the kid interviews and if he gets the position. He has the right build. Especially after what happened last time.”

  For the first time that night, the secretary stopped working and looked down the hallway as Isaac disappeared around the corner. She had shown no emotion up until that point, but her forehead arched and her eyes looked sad. “I hope he does better than the last guy.”

  The Man in Black

  The fear again bubbled up to the back of Isaac's throat as he released the last of his stomach's contents over the edge and into the smoky abyss below. His bare feet dragged along the ground, struggling to grip the rippled edges of the narrow onyx stone surface. His arms and feet were bound in metal shackles that dragged along the ground sending out a rhythmic chime. The ground extended ahead like a narrow rib, no more than a foot wide, into the horizon. All around him was a sea of smoke. He felt like he had been walking for hours. His legs burned with exhaustion as he was dragged. There was an ever-present tension as if someone was standing behind Isaac and pushing down on his neck. He was barely able to withstand the pressure and fight the desire to escape by plunging into the swirling darkness below. What was beyond the smoke he didn't know and he didn't care to find out.

  The smoke would rise on a plume and crest over the stone's edge licking at his feet. He would swear he could feel the soft touch of fingertips along his skin. Like lovers playing and goading in bed. It was gentle and almost inviting. But still, there was the desire to fall into the smoke, to explore this temptation, to touch back against those hands.

  The chains pulled again and snapped his mind back to the path. He was not alone on this road. His bondage was proof of that. Ahead, a creature walked with yoke tied around his shoulders. From the edge of the aged wood, gray-black chains dropped and swung freely down the pathway and back to Isaac's legs. Its body was bulbous and round with thin long legs that bent up and back down to the path. The initial terror had long passed. Isaac had spent the last hour debating with himself if the creature was more sp
ider or ant. The legs stood like a spider's but the ends were thin like pincers that reached down to the path. At the end of the points were string-like fingers wrapped around the edge of the path, gripping like a hand would a pole. Isaac could not see a face, nor did he want to.

  At first, Isaac tried to catch up to the creature. He clumsily jogged along the thin ledge, but every time the distance was closed, the creature would speed up, flopping its fingers down on the surface and maintaining the distance. Stopping was no option either. The creature would dig into the stone with its claw-tipped fingers. The stone surface would groan under the strain as gouges were left behind. The chains tightened, dragging Isaac along. He would fight against the creature by reaching down and holding the path but his hands found only smooth stone.

  The relenting beast kept him on the move. Isaac's legs burned from exhaustion. Pain welled up from the chains rubbing and digging into his flesh. It seemed like hours. No sound except the warm breeze lifting up from the smoky abyss.

  From in front of the lumbering creature, Isaac could see someone in the distance, standing on the path. Two legs stood like smoky black timbers threatening to stop the procession. Isaac was hopeful for some type of relief. The creature and Isaac moved ever closer to the man in the path, slowly closing the distance with each step. The creature was nearly on top of the figure when the legs disappeared as if they had never been there. Isaac's disappointment fell across his face as he scanned the road ahead. There was nothing. Was it just an aberration? Some vision or hallucination from this torturous march?

  Isaac called out, “Hello!”

  There was no response as his cry was lost in the expanse.

  Isaac's eyes were drawn up to two red dots above the creature. Perched on top like a large bird was a person covered in a thick black smoke. He rode on the back mound of the creature that was oblivious to the new passenger.

  Isaac's stomach turned. This man, if he could call this figure that, was staring down at him. Isaac froze for a moment before the chains popped again pulling him back onto the path. His breathing quickened and a shiver came over his back as if a draft found its way into his shirt. It felt like this figure was looking into his soul, searching for something to grab onto, something to hold.

  “What do you want? Where am I?” These questions had been stored up inside Isaac. He had long since given up trying to talk to the creature. But this new figure offered up the first chance of escape. “Please help me!”

  Silence.

  “I don't know where I am.”

  Still no response. Isaac began to panic, nervously looking around the path. He turned quickly to check behind him. His feet twisted and the chain caught, sending him tumbling below into the smoke. The last image he saw was the figure rising up and jumping down to the path. He closed the distance at a tremendous speed and his smoky hand grazed Isaac's foot. The chains dissolved in the smoke and he could feel himself falling. The wind whipped against his shirt and hair as he tumbled. He screamed out, choking on the smoke before he hit the ground.

  He sat up in a daze. His room was quiet as the blue-gray light poured in through the far window. His clock read 7:06 a.m. He had been dreaming. Some type of nightmare.

  He rubbed his forehead. “Jesus, that felt real.”

  He crawled out of bed and walked across his studio apartment to brew his morning coffee. He stood in the kitchen still rubbing his wrists that echoed the pain from the chains. There were no marks, but there was a tight tingling sensation running through his arms and legs.

  He poured his coffee and dropped in milk, stirring the brown liquid with a dirty spoon. His phone rang on the wall.

  “Hello?”

  “This is Director Rowe. Is this Isaac?”

  Isaac stumbled with his coffee, spilling some drops on the floor. He placed it quickly on the table and grabbed a rag while negotiating the phone cord. “Yes, sir. Thank you for calling.” Not really, it was 7 in the morning, who calls that early, Isaac thought.

  “I'm sorry for how early this was, but I wanted to let you know that you have an interview with Lazarus.”

  The smile consumed Isaac's face. “Thank you, sir.”

  “The bad news it is today at nine a.m. over at Ravenna Park near the softball field. I'm sorry for the short notice or if you had earlier plans.”

  “No sir, that's not a problem. It's Sunday after all.”

  “Great, please make sure you are not late. I've called in a favor to arrange this.”

  “Yes sir, thank you so much for the opportunity. I will not let you down. Do you have any advice?”

  “For the meeting?”

  “Yes, sir. Anything that would help me out?”

  “Just don't be late. He hates people who are late.”

  Before Isaac could say anything else, there was a click on the other side of the line. This was his shot at something new and hopefully an internship with less risk.

  He went to work hunting for a pair of pants and a nice shirt. He looked outside. It was raining, it was always raining. Ravenna Park was a good 30-minute walk from the flat so Isaac grabbed his bicycle and headed out across the district.

  The park was filled with tall pines covered in moss and lichen. Walking paths cut through the grounds like arteries weaving throughout the grassy expanse and clumps of bushes and blackberries. Surrounding the park were small Seattle bungalow homes on postage-stamp properties, each adorned with small grass yards, chain link fences, and unkempt herb gardens. One could barely cross the long lines of parked cars, each squeezed into spots not designed for their vehicle.

  Isaac crossed the road and glided into the park. He chained up to a bike station, strode over to an unoccupied pavilion and sat on a park bench. His eyes scanned the park and walkways for Lazarus. He was alone save the random stumbling homeless man pushing a cart full of bottles and plastic bags. The cart shook as it crossed the gravel and the bottles sang rhythmically in the early morning air. The homeless man approached the restrooms and reached into his pocket to pull out what looked like a kit. He licked his lips and entered the stalls. Isaac could hear the muffled cries of the man. A stall was slammed and the man went quiet as he had found a safe place to disappear.

  A small wiry man came around the corner dressed in a long black raincoat and a fedora hat. He approached quickly and addressed Isaac, “Are you Isaac?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good good, I'm a few minutes late and I'm sorry about that. My name is Lazarus. Mr. Rowe called me and told me you might be interested in a new job.” His eyes were dark with deep lines moving down his cheeks. Isaac guessed the man was in his late 50s but he couldn't be for sure. There was a crispness to his voice that told Isaac he was not born in the States. He guessed European, though the accent was all but washed away. His hands moved about his jacket hunting for something. They settled on the breast pocket. He pulled out a pair of glasses and nervously placed them on his face. He pulled a paper out and sat down next to Isaac.

  “So you work at Tennison? That is a good place. I've done a lot of work over there in the past.”

  “Yes, sir. I'm currently a staff member on the weekends.”

  “An orderly?”

  “Well, not just an orderly, but yes I work with the inmates on a daily basis.”

  “Inmates?” There was an exasperation in his voice as if Isaac had insulted someone. “I can tell you, most of those people are suffering from something that drives their madness. I prefer to call them patients. It's not always your fault the cards you're dealt.”

  “Well, most of them have committed some heinous crimes.”

  “Yes, yes, that is what we're told. There's no doubt they did those things, but why they did them is what I'm generally concerned with.”

  “I don't follow, sir.”

  “In time, in time. So you had a run in with a patient according to Director Rowe?”

  “Yes, sir. There was an issue a week back and it has forced me to begin to look for alternatives.”

/>   “Rowe said it was Zinn.”

  Isaac was surprised that this man knew about the woman. “How do you know her?”

  “Oh, well, she is a character alright. Grade A in my book. She is definitely not alone in her head.”

  “I believe she is diagnosed as psychotic, and maybe schizophrenic.”

  “Something like that. I spent time with her when she was brought in. She is an interesting case. Would you mind if I could inspect something on you?”

  “I'm sorry?” Isaac was surprised at the request.

  “Well, it's just that Rowe told me of the incident, and I wanted to check something out. Would you allow me to inspect the back of your neck?”

  “Is this part of the interview?”

  Lazarus rolled his head slightly back and forth. “I just need to make sure of something before we proceed.”

  Isaac was confused, but relented. “I don't see any issue. What are you looking for?”

  Isaac bent forward and Lazarus carefully placed a glove on his hand and pulled back on Isaac's shirt collar. He ran his fingers along his spine carefully counting the vertebrae and looking for any abrasion on the skin.

  Lazarus pulled back. “Well then, you look OK.”

  “I'm a little confused, sir…”

  “Please, just Lazarus. If we are going to be working together, you can use my first name.”

  “OK, Lazarus sir, I'm a little confused as to what we are doing here.”

  “Well, Zinn has been known to leave some interesting marks on people and I wanted to see if she had done that to you. You were knocked out for a few and that is when she typically does it. It looks like she spared you.”

  Isaac nervously responded, “I'm glad I am finding this out now.”

  “Trust me, you would have known. Alright,” Lazarus clapped his hands. “You're a student, right?”

  “Yes at the university, a second year.”

  “Have you had your anatomy class?”

  “I'm in the class now.”

  “Fantastic. Could you do me a favor and stand up.” Isaac slowly stood up from the bench. The man inspected him as he rose. “Great, now would you mind taking off your jacket? And sprint to that tree there across the grass?”