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

by Matthew Buza

From the back of the bus, the toilet flushed and the wood veneer door opened. Out walked a stumbling black man who was dressed in loose dirty clothes. He sniffed and pulled his pants.

  “Who are you talkin’ to, boy?”

  Isaac answered, “No…nobody.”

  As the man passed in front of the creature the smoke vanished and left an empty seat. What was left behind was a travel bag and a set of tied-off grocery sacks. On the floor was a paper bag filled with soda cans. The man slowly sat down in the seat that had been previously occupied.

  “Listen now, I’m heading north and I need my sleep. Alright?”

  Isaac stood and scanned the nearby seats, but the two men were alone. He slumped back into his seat and rested his head against the cool bus window. The steady vibrations rumbled through his skull and down his neck relaxing his tense muscles. Isaac wondered if this was just another hallucination.

  Isaac rubbed his forehead. “Listen, I’m not going to cause you any trouble.”

  “Well, the way all them people up there are looking at us, I would say you’ve already done your damage. I do like to travel alone though so you freed up some space back here.” He saw the strain on Isaac’s face. “What’s eating at you boy? You don’t look well. You leave some girl back in Bend?”

  Isaac smiled. “No definitely not some girl.”

  The man leaned in. “Well you ain’t one of them Seattle poof boys are you?”

  “What?”

  “Hey listen I ain’t got no problem with what you do in your spare time.”

  “Listen man, I’m just having a rough time. I want to sleep and relax just like you.”

  “I hear you. Sometimes them voices can get you. I have them myself. Talking all the time.” He leaned in and Isaac could smell the decay from his mouth. The man whispered like he was passing on an old secret. “I just ignore them. If you talk to them, not only do they get louder, but everyone else thinks you’re nuts. I only need one problem at a time. That’s my trick.”

  “I’m not hearing things, but thank you for the life tip. If I run into that I will make sure to remember.”

  “Ah, you’re seeing things. Oh-weee, that’s the way to go. I’ve known some people who see shit. Crazy shit. Shit straight out of the movies. You reach out and just wonder if it’s real, or is it just in your head?”

  “Something like that.”

  “That shit can eat you up. You’re not taking any of that fun stuff are you?”

  “What would that be?”

  “Acid my brother. If you are, now, you can share with me.”

  Isaac shook his head. “I’m not taking any drugs. I’m just going to try and sleep alright?”

  “No problem, no problem. I was just asking. No harm in that.”

  The old man went silent for a minute and then shifted slightly in the chair and kicked the back of cans.

  “Can I ask you something?” Isaac pretended to ignore him. “Just a question. Simple one.”

  “What would that be?” Isaac's eyes were closed.

  “You saw something in my chair? What was it?” asked the man.

  “It wasn’t anything important,” waved Isaac.

  “No man, come on. Humor me. What was it?”

  “Just a shadow?” Isaac said.

  “A shadow, eh? Was it tall?”

  “No.”

  “Um, maybe it was short and stocky?”

  “What are we playing, twenty questions?” Isaac shot back.

  “If you don’t tell me what it looks like we might.”

  “I thought I saw someone.”

  “What did he look like?”

  Isaac sat up and looked at the man. “I didn’t say it was a he.”

  “Demons always come across as men.”

  Isaac put up a hand. “Wait, wait. Demon?”

  “You saw one didn’t you?”

  “What are you talking about? I didn’t say anything of the sort.”

  “Smoky one right?”

  Isaac froze in place, his eyes wide and locked on the man. He could barely speak. “How? Did you see it?”

  “I saw him. Saw him walking up the aisle, towards me. Figured if it was my time I’d have it in the bathroom.”

  “What?”

  “He looked like Death. Thought it was coming for me. So I left to go to the bathroom. But after a few minutes, I heard you jabbering out here and figured he was for you.”

  “Do you know what that was? Or what it was?”

  “Hell if I know.”

  “You just sat there and thought, damn, death is coming for me? Like that was normal?”

  The man chuckled. “If you’ve seen what I’ve seen, man, some smoky thing walking up to you might be a blessing. Looks like it was for you, though. Might mean something bigger is coming.”

  Isaac nodded. “I wouldn’t doubt that after the last few weeks.”

  “Well, make yourself right with God and everything should be fine, no matter what happens.”

  “Are you religious?”

  “Well spiritual maybe, but not religious. Don’t know if any one group has it all figured out. They all seem to be going in a similar direction, but they like their own voodoo and rituals. I figured it’s better to have my own dogma. Talk with God directly. I think that's where my voices come from. I like to find another way, more secret.”

  “Are you in the occult?”

  “Dabbled a little in the past, but I’m just a simple man these days. Listen, boy, just keep yourself right and trust those around you and I think things will be OK. I’ve seen stuff like that smoky thing, but nothing ever happened to me. It’s all in your mind trying to get out. Just don’t let it out.”

  “That sounds too simple.”

  The black man leaned back into his chair and shut his eyes. “Well, if you’re an apprentice, then you’ve got nothing to worry about. Your ticket is already punched.”

  Help in the Pew

  It had been three sleepless nights since returning from Bend and Isaac broke down to call Father Luke. The conversation was short, as Isaac's voice wavered in the initial greetings. Luke could hear the young man struggling on the other side and ordered him to come to the church immediately so they may talk face to face.

  An hour later, Isaac crossed the street and entered the stone church. He paused in the entryway that was covered in self-help, drug-rehabilitation, and community-outreach pamphlets. A small stone font stood in the center of the entry. Isaac’s hand rested over the edge as his fingers trembled. He dipped them into the water and crossed himself.

  He whispered, “I still don’t know what to say.”

  From around the wood doorway, Isaac could see a crossed leg bouncing. It was covered by a black robe. Father Luke's voice was reassuring. “Isaac, you can always say, I trust in you.”

  He stood and carefully closed an old leather-bound bible. Isaac entered the church and reached out to shake Father Luke’s hand. “I’ll make sure to remember that.”

  “It’s an easy one to remember, and I like it for its simplicity and purity.” He held up the book. “There’s a lot in this thing, but the most important stuff comes from the heart. Stay honest and truthful and you needn't worry. There's a lot of evil in this world, you've seen some of the worst elements, but there's a ton of good done. Especially here in the church. We help a lot of people here.”

  “You sound like a used-car salesman.” Isaac smiled.

  “Sometimes it feels that way.” He started to walk down the pew towards an open wooden door. “We do finance your faith with monthly donations. You know, if you are ever interested.”

  “But I’m a starving college student. My money goes to rent and beer and sometimes pizza.”

  “I've heard that before.” He stopped just before the door and put his hand toward Isaac's chest. “I want you in here often. I'm not saying every day or every Sunday. I get it. Lazarus is nearing the end of his service and you need to get a solid foundation under you before you take over. I'm here to help you wi
th that.”

  “It's hard to even believe I'm here. This world of yours is still a foreign thing to me. I'm not even sure I want to do this. Besides, I thought it was Lazarus's job to teach me?”

  “He will, but I can help you too. There are many people in this city who are on your side. We're nestled everywhere. Back alleys, shops, and positions of power. We have a network of support and you'll learn that over time. Right now you need to learn the book and you need to know the history. I also have free time, more than Lazarus. And most importantly, I will be here long after Lazarus has paid his debt and moves on.”

  “So this debt? What does he owe?”

  “Necromancers work for the seraphims, and the seraphims work for Christ. The necromancer order performs jobs and tasks, sometimes mundane sometimes dangerous. When that job is complete they get paid. That payment pays off a working debt. With respect to Lazarus, he did something a long time ago, it was unfortunate, but he's been paying for it ever since. He does the job for Jalon and he gets paid. It is important to remember something when you consider Lazarus, his mind is consumed with that debt. It's something that weighs on him and it's hard for his mind to ignore. Jalon is hard, he's very firm and can be demanding. It's a lot to process I know.”

  Isaac felt a chill go up his spine like fingers gliding gently along his back. He paused and looked around the open room nervously.

  “What are you looking for?” Luke said.

  Isaac snapped to. “Nothing, I just thought there might be someone here.”

  “Not at this hour.” Luke turned and walked through the wooden door. “Let's go you brute, and watch your head.”

  Isaac reached the door and took another look back, he never saw the building black smoke crashing noiselessly against the far window. He dipped his head and walked through. “A brute? That's a little harsh.”

  “Would you prefer ogre?”

  “Maybe, as long as there are options.”

  The two men walked down a narrow stone corridor and past a long line of pictures.

  “Who are these people?” Isaac asked.

  “Important people to the church, old priests, and past patrons that have assisted Lazarus and me.”

  “Patrons?”

  “Sometimes people are asked to contribute to assist in a larger effort. Sometimes the balance with the occult tips in their favor.” He stopped and turned to Isaac. The dim light left a menacing shadow across his face, leaving only his eyes to shine like stars in the dark light. “You are not alone with Lazarus. There's a whole community of people like myself that offer our support. In return, we get preferential treatment on judgment day. Some people want that benefit now and go to powerful positions in business and government.”

  “Do I know anyone?”

  Luke smiled. “You know a few. Come on, Lazarus wanted me to show you this.”

  They continued down the hall and turned a blind corner. The walls were covered in old dusty books.

  “Is this a library?” Isaac asked.

  Luke scanned the third shelf and pulled back on a brown book. “Nope.” The bookshelf gave way and opened into a low-ceilinged room. The floor was polished stone and the walls were concrete mortar. Heavy wood beams stretched across and covered the ceiling. Luke flipped a switch and embedded lamps dropped a yellowed light over the room. In the center was a table-like structure built out of solid wood and formed in the shape of a cross. In the center of the cross were recesses that looked like an ice-cream scoop had taken out large channels wide enough for a body to rest. In the center of the cross was the low point that contained a small metal drain that continued down into the floor.

  Isaac stepped into the room and felt a pressure on his chest squeezing against his ribs and forcing the air out of his body. He stopped in the doorway and rested his hand against the wall.

  Luke stopped and his eyes narrowed as he watched Isaac struggle. Isaac slowly bent over and he dropped to his knee clutching his chest.

  He let out a muffled voice. “Luke… I don’t…”

  Luke remained silent as he crossed the room. He slowly removed his jacket and collar and hung them on a metal hook protruding from the wall.

  His voice was calm. “Isaac you can stand and you can breathe.”

  He fell to his knees and his hands pressed against the floor. “I can’t…”

  Luke grabbed the robe and swung it over his shoulders, quickly tying it around his waist. “Think about breathing, feel your lungs pull the air in. Close your eyes if you have to.”

  Isaac's fingers pressed into the floor as the color left his face. “I…” He breathed in hard. “I don't know.”

  “You're breathing, now get your balance and stand.” Luke pulled open a drawer hidden beneath the large table. “I can't do it for you.”

  “What is going on?”

  "You are fighting something. You can only be alone when you enter this room.”

  Isaac reached for the door frame and pulled himself up. He took a wobbly step and crossed the boundary leaving behind a black oil-like substance smeared on the ground behind him. It flowed out from the bottom of his shoes.

  “What do you mean I'm fighting something?”

  He crossed the threshold and his balance returned. The pressure left his chest and released its grip over his diaphragm.

  Luke poured two vials of liquid into a small cup. “Rest here against the table.”

  Isaac still struggled to regain his breath. “What was that?”

  “Put this in your mouth but don't swallow it. Swish it around and then spit it out onto the table.”

  Isaac held the gray liquid. “What is it?”

  “A test.”

  Isaac didn't move and stared into Luke's eyes.

  “Trust me,” Luke said.

  Isaac drank the liquid and swished it around his mouth. His stomach wretched and he fought against the overwhelming sensation to vomit. He spit the liquid out. It pooled on the arm of the cross and slowly made its way down the wood table toward the drain. It was inches from dropping through the grate when it stopped and slowly turned orange and then red. The liquid bubbled and began to glow hot. Isaac could feel the heat building and he pulled his arms back from the table. The bubbles popped sending droplets over the edge of the table.

  “Step back,” Luke said.

  They both took a step as the liquid burst into flames before falling down the drain. Luke pulled a small cap and quickly placed it over the drain hole. His fingers twisted a wing nut and locked the cover in place.

  Isaac looked at Luke. “What the fuck was that?”

  “That was a sanity test and you failed.”

  “Failed what?”

  Luke walked around the table and stood close to Isaac's chest; he looked up and locked eyes. His fingers pulled back on Isaac's cheek as he stared into the whites of his eyes. “Have you seen anything?”

  “What?” Isaac said pulling back slightly.

  “Have you seen anything odd? You've been gone for a few days.”

  His eyes blinked fast and he was silent.

  Luke's voice dropped. “Boy, I'm probably the only person in this world that gives a shit about you right now.” There was a pause. “I'm just trying to help you so I am going to ask you again and I need you to answer me. Have you seen anything?”

  Isaac nodded.

  “What have you seen?”

  “A thing. I don't know what it is. I feel like I'm crazy.”

  “When was the first time you saw it?”

  “A few days ago. But I've been seeing weird things for a while.”

  “When was the first time you interacted with it?”

  “Interacted?”

  “Have you spoken with it?”

  Isaac paused a moment and slowly nodded. Luke's head dropped slowly and he placed his hand on Isaac's shoulder. “You wait here, don't leave this room. I need to call Lazarus.”

  “What is it?”

  “We’ll be able to determine that but I need him here.”
Luke walked to the door entry. “Does it know who you are?”

  “My name?”

  “No, that you are an apprentice?”

  Isaac hesitated, remembering his boast. “Yes…yes it does.”

  Luke sighed and his head dipped. Isaac could see the disappointment cover his face. “I'll be back.”

  He left the room and Isaac was alone with his thoughts. He remembered that first encounter with the creature in his room. He didn't know what it was, or what it wanted with him. He remembered Lazarus explaining that there are differences between spirits and demons, but Isaac didn't know which one he had. He feared ending up like that girl on the table. A creature tearing through flesh, ripping limb from limb. Would he feel the pain when they pulled it out of him? Would they be able to? He shuddered as his thoughts drifted between the scenarios.

  An hour passed when Isaac heard the front door of the church close. He heard the muffled voices of Lazarus and Luke talking. Minutes rolled by and he knew they were exchanging more than pleasantries.

  Isaac heard the clicking of shoes when Luke and Lazarus turned the corner and entered the room. Lazarus stood in the doorway with his hands on his hips. He looked down at the ground and his foot played with the black tar residue.

  “This is from when he crossed?” Lazarus said.

  “Yes,” Luke answered.

  “Hands or feet?”

  “Feet. He failed the bile test.”

  “Boiling or Flames?”

  “Both.”

  Lazarus paused and he looked across the room to Isaac. “How are you feeling?”

  “Well for the past hour. I've moved from suicidal to bored to terrified.”

  “Sounds about right. But do you feel anything inside you, have you see anything in the last hour?”

  “No, not that I know of.”

  Lazarus rubbed his hands. “Well let's get to work. We need to look you over.”

  “Do you remember anything with Zinn?” asked Lazarus.

  “I don't know what to expect, she touched me multiple times.”

  “How did she touch you?”

  “I mean she grabbed me, her hands touched my shoulder. Maybe she did this thing on my neck when I was out? I don't know.”

  “Did you have any alone time with her?”