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

by Matthew Buza

  The sound of an iron bar struck the floor and the room want silent. He could hear the collective breathing of the chalk mob.

  The women reached down and unclipped their chains from Isaac's cart and melted into the shadows. From the back wall there was a woman's voice, “Isaac.”

  The word was drawn out and he knew the voice.

  Zinn.

  “Isaac, welcome to the club. Do you like what I've built?”

  “It's a cute club you have here. You guys get together to do arts and crafts on the weekends?” Isaac responded and spit into the crowd striking a member in the face. The glob slowly dripped down the blank face.

  “You could say that.”

  A man emerged from behind the tight mass. He too was covered in chalk, but along his chest were red markings. They were crosses and they lead down to his linen briefs and to two large eyes that were emblazoned on his thighs.

  Zinn continued as the man with red markings made his way towards Isaac. “Isaac you are here to be part of our ceremony. We appreciate you taking the time to be with us.”

  “It's my pleasure. But I would’ve enjoyed an invitation,” he said sarcastically.

  The man laughed and he stepped up to the platform. Isaac could smell the dry acidic breath like an invisible cloud passing over him. Gentle murmurs repeated under the man's breath.

  “We wear the white. We wear the white”

  Zinn's voice was closer and came from behind. “You have such a beautiful body for us to use.”

  Isaac's head turned as he arched his back to see her. He could feel her body press against his back. Isaac's breath fluttered as her fingers reached around his stomach and gently touched his body. He tried in vain to fight the bindings. Her fingers slowly walked like spiders up to his chest. She continued and closed in around his neck.

  She whispered in his ear, “Are you scared? Don't be. He is here with you now. He is crossing that great distance to meet up. Did you see the black smoke?”

  Isaac listened silently.

  “It can be terrifying, but you'll welcome it in the end.”

  Zinn dug her nails into his cheeks, tugging and pulling red welts and white flakes of flesh.

  Isaac winced but remained quiet.

  She continued, “I have to admit, since getting out, I do feel different. Almost free. But since this afternoon, I feel a real change. Finally at peace. I don't envy you. It's going to be hard.”

  Isaac couldn't remember most of the day. He had fleeting glimpses of being taken at the shop, the bus station, Jalon and Lazarus, and the nightmare he'd endured over the last few hours.

  Isaac broke his silence. “I don't know what you are talking about.”

  The man with the red markings squealed at Isaac, “It mustn't speak.” His voice lowered. “You're a prop, not a person. A flesh vessel.”

  The man's voice trailed off as Zinn's fingers disappeared from Isaac's body. Zinn circled Isaac, her heels clicking on the wooden platform. She stopped to his left and waved her arm. “You can begin. Use him however you want.”

  The marked man bared his teeth to Isaac.

  He reached down and clipped the steel cable to Isaac's feet and ran the excess between his legs. The cold steel bit at Isaac's skin and sent a shiver up his body.

  Three men broke from the tight cluster and fell in line behind the marked man. They reached down and pulled back on the steel cable. The pulley suspended from the ceiling squealed out. The slack pulled away and disappeared above Isaac. The men tugged again and Isaac flipped upside down and swung like a clock pendulum in the air. His heart raced and he could feel his stomach struggling as the room danced and shook. The blood pooled in his head and pressed hard against his eyes. The cable slowly unraveled and the room began to spin. People and objects melted into a swirling blur.

  Below the marked man carefully drew a large cross within the circle. The tight blob of men broke apart and surrounded the wooden podium. Their hands were interlocked at their hips and they swayed gently like leaves in a soft breeze. All eyes were firmly focused on the man in the center.

  “Brothers and Sisters. We are here to raise the dead. Our lost brother Michael. Cast into the black by a sinner of the highest order. An order that curses this city.”

  Isaac could hear the man's voice below him as he mumbled to his cult following. Isaac bent his body and pulled against the steel cable. His fingernails popped against the threads. He pulled the lock before his abdominals gave away and he swung back. He prepared himself for what might be coming. He remembered the woman's body in the morgue and he knew the horrors that could occur in séances. He thought of his grandparents on their porch, sitting on their old wooden chairs talking about the goings-on in town. He could hear their soft bickering as they corrected each other's facts. It brought a smile to his face. He wished he was there now. He would have been on the bus hours ago, sitting in a dirty seat and listening to the hum of the bus engine. The miles slowly building between him and this city. It was his peace in this moment. He gently swung, thinking about what life might have been. He forgot the world of necromancy, he left behind the séances and the obligations. There was just peace. He was in Bend watching the sunset and drinking iced tea with his grandparents. His body finally relaxed.

  Isaac close your eyes.

  Isaac shook out of his daydream to hear Lazarus's voice echoing in his head.

  “What?” he said confused.

  Close your fucking eyes now!

  “Lazarus?”

  No time, Now!

  Isaac obeyed as a sound of a metal ball bounced along the floor below him. From behind his eyelids the ambient world lit up. He could feel the heat against his face as a large explosion sounded below. The light faded and the room was plunged into a momentary silence.

  “Can I open them?” he said.

  The voice boomed in his ear over the screams from the floor below, No, one more!

  He closed his eyes tight and another flash released.

  Isaac screamed out into the room, “What the fuck are you doing!”

  For the first time, Lazarus's voice was no longer in his head but came from below, “Luke help with the cable.”

  “Lazarus he's a big gu…”

  Father Luke never finished the sentence as Lazarus unhooked the metal cable from the floor. Both men were lifted into the air as Isaac's body fell to the ground. At the last instant Isaac curled his back before hitting the ground. He could hear the snap of bones under his weight as a group member beneath him screamed. He could feel hands groping his at his leg. It was the first time Isaac opened his eyes. Surrounding him were the chalked men grasping at their eyes and screaming out in pain. Two men must have been close to the blasts as blood poured out of open wounds on their legs. Their hands were torn between grasping at their flash-burned eyes and tending to their wounds. Their hands swabbed in the blood pressed streaks across their faces.

  Isaac scanned quickly but could not find Lazarus. “Lazarus where are you?”

  “We're up here!” The voices came from above and Isaac could see Lazarus and Father Luke holding onto the steel cable. Lazarus lowered himself down the cable slack. Luke followed behind him and grabbed the keys from the marked man who writhed on the ground. With a quick twist, Isaac was free and standing.

  Lazarus nodded his head and smiled. “Just in time as I see it. These guys are going to feel it in the morning.”

  Isaac reared back and struck Lazarus in the face and sent him tumbling down to the ground. His head bounced against the ground and he slid out into the open space along the concrete floor.

  Father Luke looked down at Lazarus and back up to Isaac. “You are going to make a good necromancer one day. He deserved that. My name is Father Luke.”

  Isaac reached out. “Nice to meet you, Father.”

  “I had heard you were Lazarus's new apprentice. I'm happy to finally meet you.”

  From the ground below Lazarus slowly pulled his body up from the ground and returned to the
séance center. He dabbed his eye as blood trickled out of a fresh cut.

  “God kid.” His voice was shaky as he stumbled slightly walking over the screeching cult members. “Isaac this is Luke. Luke this is Isaac. Where did Zinn go?”

  Isaac's eyes closed when he heard the name. “Yes, she is here. I had the unfortunate opportunity of running into her. She was here just before you dropped those things.”

  Luke smiled. “I love those little guys.”

  “Yeah, thanks for the heads up on that by the way. How the hell did you do that?”

  “Voice projection, next week's lesson I promise,” Lazarus said. “Which way did she go?”

  Isaac pointed to the far corner of the large room, “That way I believe.”

  “Luke she is dangerous. You know the stakes.”

  “I'm ready, are you?” Luke asked.

  “Never. I am never ready,” Lazarus said.

  The two men stepped over the moaning bodies and made their way towards the corner exit. Isaac remained in the center of the room watching the two men walk away.

  Lazarus stopped and turned. “We need you, so get moving.”

  Isaac shook his head.

  “You know there's no choice. Come along.”

  Isaac knew he was right and he hated him for it. Everything in his mind told him to run, but he knew it was useless. He would be tracked down and thrown into the Lincoln. He marched after Luke and Lazarus, “Honestly, I don't give a shit anymore. Nothing surprises me. But I swear to God when we are done here, I'm not through with you.”

  “There's the spirit we have been looking for! Luke, we've got ourselves a future here. Finally speaking my language, Jaded.”

  The three men sprinted for the exit and into the hall after Zinn.

  Shifting

  Zinn stepped through the doorway as she heard the cantor's voice receding off in the distance. She knew they weren't going to kill Isaac, he was too valuable. It was a ritual of fun, maybe a little discomfort and stress, but ultimately he would be fine.

  With the help of her smoky companion, it had taken only a few weeks to work back into her old group. They had both set out on a mission agreeing to make a transfer to Isaac's body. She had met her obligation and Isaac accepted the seed. Why he wanted Isaac was beyond her understanding. Maybe he had grown tired of Zinn, maybe he wanted a new host. Regardless she had her freedom. It had been years now since she was alone. Every day and every waking hour he was there always watching and guiding.

  She felt joyful, but the feeling of being alone began to terrify her. In some ways the Tormentor became her comfort, her safety blanket. She knew that he would protect her, save her from harm, and guide her in his direction. But now that was all gone and she struggled to see how she fit in this new reality.

  She walked down the hallway, clutching a small duffle bag and caught the stairs to the lower level. She stepped into a small room and sat on a folding table. Inside the bag were a change of clothes, a passport, and cash. It was her ticket out of this life. A rebirth.

  She pulled off her clothes and stepped into a pair of blue jeans and pulled a white top over her head.

  She felt Natious walking behind her.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked.

  His voice cracked. “Nothing…nothing at all. I just wanted to know what you were going to do? What were your plans?”

  “Are you enjoying the show?” she asked.

  “Listen, Zinn, I didn't mean anything by it, I just wanted to see what the next steps were.”

  “The next steps are that you go upstairs and finish the job with your freak cult.”

  “Cult? But you were part of it? Your words spoke truth.”

  “They were until I got what I needed. That kid up there is all I wanted. That was my goal.”

  “Are you leaving us? But I thought you wanted to be part of this, all of your speeches. Everything you've said. We need your guidance. The Mortem need your expertise.”

  “I've given you freaks all you need. Now, I'm getting out of here.”

  Natious took a step towards Zinn. Her speed shocked him as she spun around. She was too quick and had him by the neck.

  Her teeth were clenched as she whispered into his ear, “Pay attention, because you will only hear this once. I know more. I can do more. I am more than you ever will be. Don't take me lightly, I have the capacity to end a spell dealer, here and now. You don't want to die here so I suggest you drop the knife.”

  The blade struck the floor. Her elbow pulled tight against his throat sending him into a coughing fit.

  Natious recovered. “Listen, Zinn, I was just trying to understand.”

  “I'm sure you were going to thrust that understanding into my back, eh?”

  “I wasn't planning anything. I was just being cautious.”

  “Cautious. That's nice. I'm feeling generous. It has been a good day for me, so I'll spare you. But let me tell you one thing, my Tormentor left me some goodies that I will be able to use. Would you like to see one?”

  Natious shook his head. Cold sweat was trickling down his brow.

  “What? You don't want to see it? I think you do. I think you want to see it.”

  Zinn leaned in with her crooked finger and touched Natious's temple. The veins along his skin ruptured and sent a spider web of red lines across his face. His mouth opened as he tried to scream. It was an unspeakable pain that coursed through his body. It felt like a freight train running through his chest threatening to overrun and stop his heart. His eyes danced and slowly rolled back exposing the whites to the ceiling above. Zinn looked down and whispered into his ear, “You will see the darkness below.”

  The whites of his eyes swirled with a gray smoke and slowly clouded and darkened to an obsidian black. He was paralyzed and locked in place. Zinn released his throat and his body remained curled back and suspended unnaturally as if gravity had stopped. His back arched and his feet stood crooked on the floor. Natious's arms dropped down towards the floor and his fingers twitched in an asynchronous rhythm.

  Zinn looked at the man. “Enjoy that one.”

  She collected her clothes and stuffed the bag when she heard the first explosion from upstairs. It was muffled through the thick concrete flooring, but it was unmistakable.

  “What the hell is he doing up there?” she said.

  Zinn returned to the duffle bag as the second explosion rang out. She grabbed her things and quickly exited the room leaving Natious to quiver in pain. She was halfway up the stairs when she heard the muffled voices from the ceremony room. Screams of pain from the members drifted down the hall. She peeked over the railing edge and saw Lazarus and Luke enter the end of the hallway. She stood and walked up the landing.

  Lazarus silently motioned and Luke fell in behind him.

  "Is that her?” Luke whispered.

  “It’s her,” Lazarus answered.

  Isaac's dark shadow blocked the light and obscured the two men. They bent into an athletic crouch ready to pounce on their prey.

  “What are you gu…” Isaac broke off in a mumble.

  Luke lifted his hand to silence him.

  “Fall in behind me,” said Lazarus.

  Isaac turned and saw the frail figure at the end of the hall. The memories of the evening flashed across his mind. His hands and arms tingled as he remembered her cold body pressed against him. It was almost too much to take. For weeks she had left her mark on him. His dreams, both day and night, were riddled with images of this woman. He loathed her more than anything in this world. She was the source of all his pain and the reason he even knew the men ahead of him.

  Isaac spoke up as the three men stared down the hall at the frozen shadow. “What are we going to do?”

  Luke touched Lazarus on the shoulder. “Laz? Got a plan.”

  He nodded his head. “Pass me the blade and another explosive.”

  Luke dug and passed the round metal sphere to Lazarus. There were two sharp pings as Luke pulled the long silver bl
ades from under his shirt. He handed one to Lazarus and kept his favorite for himself.

  Luke spoke up. “Isaac, if it gets bad you need to get out of here.”

  Isaac felt a rush come over him, a sense of camaraderie or friendship to conquer a common enemy. He knew the only way to get at Zinn was to stay with Lazarus and help.

  “I'm not going anywhere,” Isaac said.

  “I think there is another exit on the other side of that room.”

  Zinn remained fixed at the far end of the hall.

  “Luke, you take the left,” Lazarus said.

  “You got it.”

  “We need to be fast. Are you ready?”

  Lazarus shifted. “Go.”

  The two men broke into a dead sprint, their arms pulsing to match their racing hearts. Isaac was surprised at their speed, it seemed almost too fast. Lazarus threw the explosive down the hall. All three men in unison lifted their arms as the flash burst, drowning the hall in a brilliant white light. Isaac could feel the heat from the explosion as a stiff breeze flowed down the walls. He dropped his arm to see the residual light dying away.

  Zinn arched her back in the air as she grasped for her eyes. She let out a blood-curdling scream as the two men positioned themselves around her. Lazarus and Luke each thrust at the woman, their curved blades flickering in the dying light.

  Zinn's body contorted as instincts guided her supernatural speed. She parried the attacks and struck Luke, sending him crashing against the wall. Dust and debris rained down over his shoulders. She pressed back with her leg and caught Lazarus in the face. He crumpled into a heap on the ground. Isaac could hear the clang of the blade falling to the floor. It had been so fast Isaac barely had time to react before she disabled them.

  Zinn continued to rub the pain out of her eyes. She screeched, “Who the hell do you two think you are? Do you think you can stop me?”