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

by Matthew Buza

  Isaac turned back. “What are these things?”

  The demon walked tall but didn't answer.

  Isaac could feel the cold remnants of the Demon coursing through his veins as images flashed across his mind. He saw the front lines of a war, a depressed no-man's-land covered in a dense fog. The ground had been scorched by waves of fire and left a black soot over the rocks. Waves of men poured over makeshift trenches and stormed into the mist. They were naked from the waist up and were covered in streaks of black soot. Large wings unfurled and they took flight. They were angels. Isaac saw them battle waves of smoky demons on a plain. Black and white blood oozed over the ground as limbs and bodies piled high. The gore built and slowly obscured the rocky ground beneath. The two sides clawed and battled, but the demons won the day. The demons held down the Angels and tore the wings from their backs. They were bound in the trench coats and their faces were covered with masks.

  Isaac looked at the valley walkers and saw the pain in their eyes.

  The demon leaned down. “And sometimes they are food.”

  The last word hung in the air. Isaac was distracted in his dream world and stumbled over a small rock in the trail. He took a step forward and bumped into one of the marchers. Its immense arm pushed back and sent Isaac crashing into the dirt. He heard the large pounding steps as the marcher approached Isaac, the large worn shoe lifted and came crashing down. The demon dragged Isaac’s as the boot smashed a pile of rocks where Isaac’s head had been.

  The demon turned and climbed up the walker’s shoulder. His fingers dug hard into its shoulder sending white blood cascading down the trench coat. A second hand dug in and the demon pulled hard. The walker's arm detached sending a river of blood across the ground. The heavy arm hit the ground and blood pooled in the dirt. Isaac kicked the ground and quickly stood up backing away from the carnage. The walker blindly grasped the protruding stump trying to stop the bleeding. He backed away and fell to the ground. Isaac could see the creature breathing heavily before collapsing to the ground. There was one last breath and the walker was still.

  The demon held the arm in his hand and walked past Isaac. He pulled the coat fabric and exposed the ivory skin. For the next hour, Isaac slowly walked behind the demon trying to ignore the sickening sounds of bone against bone, as the demon slowly picked the arm clean. The demon's head dipped and short shakes loosened fresh pieces of flesh. As if trying to leave a trail to find his way home, the demon cast the empty bones to the side of the path. Isaac couldn't help but stare as he passed. He could feel nausea build with each step. He loathed this creature, but his body trudged along like a blind servant.

  They spent hours walking in silence, the demon setting the pace and Isaac struggling to keep up. They passed rows of hills and tall mountains as they made their way through another valley. They crested what felt like a small pass and began to descend down onto a flat black plain. The trail continued through the valley and died on the horizon.

  Isaac broke the silence. “Where are we going?”

  The demon answered for the first time. “We’ll walk through the Seer Plain.”

  The trail continued down the hillside and turned switchbacks along a sharp cliff. The pair walked carefully, their eyes focused on the sharp rock peaks that awaited them if they slipped. Isaac could see the rotten remains of impaled marchers who had slipped and fallen to their death. Their large trench coats flapped in the breeze.

  The dirt path gave way to a powder-sand beach that met the black expanse.

  Isaac’s feet sank and he fought to stay upright. The demon pressed through the landscape with ease, the sand parting gently against his feet and allowing him to walk quickly ahead. The sweat poured down Isaac’s face as he made his way to the edge of the beach. What was ahead of him was hard to comprehend. A flat glass like a black mirror that stretched into infinity. The white sand finished in a false edge as small grains of sand fell out onto the surface. The demon stood and watched the horizon as Isaac finally reached his side.

  The demon turned slightly. “This is where the dead wait to enter.”

  “Enter what?”

  The smoky face looked down at Isaac and he knew. This empty plain was the entrance to hell. Isaac’s eyes were wide and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He had assumed he was already in Hell. Isaac's legs grew weak and he dropped to his knees.

  “I don’t know what you want from me. I’ve got nothing to offer you.” The demon was silent. “I’m just some medical student that was conned into this. I don’t give a shit about Lazarus, I just want to go back to my regular life.”

  The demon let Isaac’s words settle. “Are you done?”

  Isaac shook his head. “I just want to go back. I don’t want this!”

  “The whore will have you back working within a day.” He points up at the black starless sky. “You know he has a plan for you. This is his plan. Unfortunately, you didn’t get a say in that plan. You just live out your life, walking the world like you can see, but you are blind. You are a blind mouse mindlessly following a maze you don’t see. All of this is planned for you, little lamb. Free will is a lie. Your life is now controlled by the King.” The demon paused. “We need to continue.”

  Isaac could feel his will growing as if for a brief moment the demon lost its hold. He looked back to the cliff behind him and up to the valley’s edge. The first of the marchers were reaching the crest and they slowly began to climb down the winding road.

  Isaac thought back to the cave entrance. Maybe he missed something, maybe there was a way back. He thought about running and how far he might get before the demon stopped him. He tore the arm off the walker with ease, there was no way he couldn't stop that. His throat was dry and he was starving. There was nothing behind that would help. Even if he somehow got away, he would likely die on the valley, his body drying to dust in the desiccating winds. The cold sensation returned and he turned, his body intent on following his tormentor.

  Isaac could feel the sand shifting slowly beneath him. He took a step and there was a moan on the wind. He took another and cleared the sand, touching the mirrored surface. It was solid like polished obsidian. He could see his reflection extended out over the black surface. He was above and his twin below.

  He stepped again and looked down at his feet. The black mirrored surface was like clear glass, each footstep pushing away black smoke that collected below. Isaac’s heart gave way as dozens of white eyeballs peered up at him. They were trapped under the glass. With each step he took he revealed new eyes. They looked frightened and panicked. Each eye shivered, pleading in vain for Isaac to save them.

  Isaac stepped back onto the sand in horror. “The eyes…what are they, whose are they?”

  “They are souls waiting to get into hell. Their punishment is the waiting. The monotony and the horror of knowing what is coming and that there is nothing they can do.” The demon smiled for the first time and Isaac saw his cruelty on display. His crooked black finger pointed to the horizon. “Hell is this way, Isaac. There is only one way to go.”

  Isaac's body carried him forward. His foot parted the smoke and dozens of eyes stared up at him. Isaac ignored the horror below his feet and focused on the horizon. With each step, the ground turned white for an instant before turning black again. The two figures slowly walked over the flat expanse. Each footstep marked and faded like phosphorescent shadows on a black sea stretching off into the horizon.

  A Pawn

  Isaac slowed to a crawl and his feet tangled, sending him to his knees. The mirrored surface cleared and he stared down at a cluster of shivering eyes. The heat pressed down on him and streams of sweat dripped off his brow and pooled on the ground below. He had never been this thirsty and sucked back on the salty liquid clinging to his upper lip.

  The demon sensed Isaac slowing. He turned and his voice was firm. “Keep moving.”

  Isaac paused gasping for breath. “I…I need water. It's been too long.”

  Isaac fell an
d rolled to his back. He stared up at the featureless sky, the muted horizon stretched out like an impenetrable dome keeping the world beneath hostage.

  The demon turned and slowly walked to Isaac's side. “You want water?”

  “Please.”

  The demon reared back and spat at Isaac. A thick gray glob struck his leg and crawled down his pants. It sizzled as the acid melted the thin layer of cotton. Isaac swiped hard at his pant leg and flung the mucus onto the ground.

  “Goddammit!” Isaac cried out.

  The Demon’s eyes burned red. “Walk.”

  Isaac felt a quiver in his stomach and cramp ripped through his belly as he fought the sensation of vomiting. Deep inside his body, an invisible hand squeezed the last bit of drive out of him. It pushed him to stand and press on.

  The creature continued towards the horizon with Isaac in tow. After an hour a dull warm light appeared on the horizon. At first, it was red, but as they walked closer the colors shifted to orange and then yellow. The change was both exciting and terrifying. Isaac watched as the demon's eyes grew wider. He was looking forward to something and Isaac was not eager to know what that was.

  With each step, the horizon grew more terrifying. Isaac could see burning smoke billowing into the sky from what appeared to be a river of fire. It separated the flat glass-like landscape behind him from a rocky moonscape ahead.

  They approached the edge and Isaac could feel the heat of the magma flowing below. Currents and rapids bent and climbed over large floating boulders that occupied the river at the base of the canyon.

  He stopped feet from the edge, the heat was hotter than anything he could imagine. He could only bear it for a moment before recoiling to safety. The demon stood proudly like a pioneer seeing his land for the first time. A torrent rose up off the cliff's edge and whipped back the smoke that poured out along his body.

  Isaac stumbled closer to the demon and tried to talk over the sound of the rushing river below. “Where are we?”

  He raised his arms proudly. “We are at the gates. Hell is before you.”

  “And the lava?”

  “The river. It's a torrent of pain and suffering that fuels all we see. Without it, we would have nothing.”

  Isaac looked around lost. “That sounds nice. I'm guessing there's a gate?”

  The demon pointed down the cliff's edge towards two narrow towers crowned with blue lights.

  “Of course there is a gate,” Isaac said.

  They continued up the river's edge to the entrance. The wide slate bridge arched over the river of fire. A vertical column of smoke broke under the arch and flowed over the edge and into the sky. It gave an illusion of an endless wall that towered into the sky. Isaac could see the ripples and undulation as the heat swirled through the smoky wall.

  The demon walked to the edge of the bridge and waited. The two were alone staring across to the rocky landscape beyond.

  The demon spoke. “Don’t move, we’re being watched.”

  Isaac scanned the area in a panic. “Who is watching us?”

  “The Gatekeepers.”

  Isaac took a step backward. “Where? Where are they?”

  Slowly the demon lifted his arm and pointed up to the top of the towers. “We can only cross if they let us.”

  “I take it they haven't given us a pass yet?”

  “The light is still blue. We can't go.”

  Isaac stared at the peaks of the towers. They were nearly three hundred feet high and stood like tall pins embedded in the cliff’s edge. Along the outside of the stone structure was a winding iron staircase.

  “What you don't get a quick pass or something?” Isaac said sarcastically.

  The demon ignored him and continued to stare forward across the bridge.

  Isaac scanned the towers, watching for any movement. His hands fidgeted with his pants as he nervously shifted his weight. The scene felt like a mural painting lifted from Dante.

  He whispered to himself, “Jesus this can't be real.”

  Isaac looked to the tower top where the dull blue light shined. From this distance, he strained to see anything. He thought he saw something moving, a figure working the top of a lighthouse.

  “Is someone up there?”

  The demon's voice was muted. “Yes.”

  “I think I see them on both towers. What are we waiting for?”

  “For the go-ahead.”

  Isaac looked again. He saw the figures frantically moving and dancing on the peak. The blue light dimmed and turned red.

  “Um…the light. The light changed.”

  The demon stepped back slowly. His arms reached out and corralled Isaac. “Stay behind me. We are going to have to negotiate entry.”

  Two enormous black blobs rolled off the tower tops and quietly fell through the air.

  “Something is coming,” Isaac said as he pointed up.

  The demon hissed.

  The objects rippled and tumbled as the hot wind prodded the folds. They gained speed and accelerated towards the ground. Isaac could hear a growing bomb-like whirring as the objects approached. They struck the bridge ahead of them sending rocks and bits of gravel shooting into the air.

  Rocks streamed down as Isaac covered his face, “What the hell are they?”

  The dust slowly lifted revealing two boiling masses turning in the dirt. Isaac peered closer and saw the horror. Tens of thousands of spiders swarmed over themselves, their legs pulling tight as the mass slowly lifted and took shape. First legs and then arms dropped out of the frothing torso. Spiders lost their grip and dripped like water drops to the ground only to scurry back to the mob. They were the gatekeepers, the protectors of the bridge to hell.

  The demon addressed them. “I have business beyond. I must be allowed to cross.”

  Their faces formed and a gap moved where a mouth would be. Their voices spoke in unison and sounded like millions of ticking legs. “Aamon, you are always welcome here, but you bring a fleshling with you. He belongs in the fire. His soul should fuel our master.”

  “I am free to bring who I want.”

  The two gatekeepers shifted their stance and inched closer. “Oh, no my dear Aamon. Here at this bridge, you follow our rules. You know this. We do not let fleshlings across. They belong below, not above. They must wait their turn before they burn.”

  Isaac looked down at the mirrored surface and saw the eyes staring, but this time they focused on the gatekeepers and ignored his presence. Bloody veins appeared and turned the whites of their eyes a deep red. He looked up and saw the towering gatekeepers. He stepped back looking off into the horizon. He thought about running, leaving to go back to the cave to live out the next few days and die of thirst. For the first time, that option seemed better than any other.

  The gatekeepers approached and Aamon stepped forward to meet them. Isaac wondered why he would protect him. He was a nothing, just a piece of some larger play. He shook his head and felt the cold leave his body. He felt the demon's touch leave his body. The demon had lost control of him.

  Aamon was now twenty feet in front of him and looked ready to strike. A large flash of light streamed out of Aamon and ripped through one gatekeeper leaving a hole in its torso. Spiders on the edge of the hole fell to the ground as small drops of flames. Isaac took a deep breath. The smell of burning spider made him sick and he coughed out their dusty remains.

  The gatekeeper slowly closed the open hole, sending new spiders to patch the missing area.

  The gatekeepers hissed. “Aamon, The King will be angry at your lack of respect.”

  “Nonsense, he will have you boiled alive in the river for yours.”

  The two gatekeepers melted into the ground and descended on Aamon. The sound of the legs ticking against the ground was deafening. The two gatekeepers moved and reformed into a single mass as they dropped down onto Aamon disappearing him into the swarming pile.

  For the first time, Isaac heard Aamon scream out in pain. He couldn't imagine the feeling of mil
lions of spiders crawling and biting. He saw his opportunity and sprinted away from the burning river. The screams from Aamon nipped at his back, but he knew this was his opportunity to run. For the first time since Aamon bit him, he felt in control of his body. His feet pounded against the ground and he ran faster than he ever thought was possible. He kept running, for nothing more than to have a chance at freedom. Even if that freedom was death.

  After a few minutes of sprinting, he dropped down to one knee and rolled onto his back. He felt helpless in this foreign place, but more than anything he wanted a drink. His mouth was dry and he could feel cramps starting to nibble at his calves.

  His voice was soft. “I’m here, what are you going to do for me? I need help. I can't do this without you.”

  A click of feet sounded just over his head and Isaac rolled to his stomach expecting Aamon or one of the gatekeepers. A shape slowly walked out of darkness. An arm lifted up and pulled the hood back and Isaac saw Lazarus standing before him. “We don't have all day kid, we need to go.”

  Before Isaac could process what Lazarus said he lost conscience and collapsed onto the ground.

  The Bargain

  Isaac's head bobbed and a cool breeze gently ruffled his hair. He had been asleep, but his eyes protested remaining closed. There was a sudden movement and his body slid up against a short wall. He squinted in the bright daylight as the wooden cart clicked along the uneven path.

  “You waking up boy?” It was his grandfather's voice.

  Isaac turned and saw his grandfather dressed in overalls and a dirty white shirt, his gray hair dancing in the wind.

  “Grandpa, how did you get here?”

  “That's a funny question. The better one is, how you got here?”

  The cart shook again and Isaac's head bumped the rotted seat. His eyes opened wider and he saw the bags of grain stacked up next to him.

  “What is all this?”