All Of The Dead (a necromancer story)

Chapter 7: A bad client

Lucan

I f.ucking hated myself when Esmeralda left the office crying, and I hated Dana too.

Speaking of Dana, she came bursting into the room and spat, “what the f***k did you say to her?”

“I told her the f.ucking truth. She’s not stupid, she knew something was up.”

“S.hit.” She looked at the floor deflated and then muttered, “I suppose I did say I’d rather her alive hating me than dead.”

Sighing, I tried to calm the rage inside of me down and forced myself to put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I know you care about her and only wanted to bring her back.”

“Yeah, me and my stupid ideas. F.ucking her man was the miracle to bringing her back,” she replied sarcastically.

I laughed a little at that. “Well it weirdly worked, I suppose.”

“Why are you not running after her, dipshit.”

I rolled my eyes and went back behind my desk. “Because she needs some time to process this shitstorm we created. I’ll try to talk to her later when she’s calmed down.”

“Don’t let her go Lucan, she’s good for you.” She looked at me for a minute and then dragged herself back to her desk as lunch was over, and we had more appointments to deal with.

My next client came in and was a man in his mid-forties.

I tried to keep my patience and be professional, but I really wasn’t in the mood.

“Hello Mr Jackson, please have a seat.”

The man sat down and straight away demanded, “I want my wife raised as a zombie.”

I nodded while I was still writing and said, “sorry, I’ve still got some things to write down, but I am listening. Why do you want your wife raised?”

“Is that any of your business?” He asked.

I stopped writing and tried to remain calm as I slowly put the pen down and looked him in the eyes. “Yes, Mr Jackson, it is my business when it’s my zombie. It takes a lot of energy and time to raise one, and I don’t like to do it for petty reasons.”

I don’t know what my face showed, but he leaned back in his chair and swallowed hard, I saw his eyes flick to my tattoos and back to my face again.

“Well, Um, I wanted her raised because she refused to sign our divorce papers when I met someone new and I wanted to make things official, also I wanted to discuss with her about a personal item.”

I already did not like this man, but I kept myself professional. “I will need to talk to your wife first in spirit because there isn’t much point in me raising a zombie that refuses to sign anything or co-operate.”

He nodded uncertainly which I found strange, I ignored it and pulled up her details. Her name was Lisa Jackson, she had been forty-seven when she passed away from lung disease.

“I’m going to contact her now,” I warned him.

He nodded and watched as I woke up that cold part of me that could both communicate and control the dead.

I closed my eyes and reached for that cold place inside of me, that familiar darkness that lived beneath my skin. Necromancy wasn’t warmth or comfort, it was like sinking beneath frozen water. I felt it wake and spread through me.

My arms ran with soft icy blue veins like frost spreading over glass. I used my necromancy to call out to her. I called her name and would have spoken the language of the dead to call her forth, but she appeared from nowhere so suddenly that I actually jumped a little.

“Holy s.hit!” I actually jumped in my chair.

“Uh… sorry to you both. Mrs Jackson, try not to sneak up on me like that.”

She was standing next to me rather than by her husband and she was crying.

“I’m sorry, but please, please you can’t raise me. He will force me to sign those papers with his fists. He won’t care that I’m a zombie.” Her voice c.racked. “And he is NOT having my wedding ring. I already put it in the will for my son to have.”

She was crying heavily and as I looked at her properly, I noticed her face had some bruises, finger-shaped marks wrapped around her wrists. Something felt off, and I knew she was an angry spirit, I could feel the unstable energy rolling off her.

The folders that had been stacked along my shelf suddenly flew off and crashed violently to the floor near Mr Jackson, he gasped and jumped up from his chair with a strangled yell.

“What the hell is going on?!”

I ignored him and looked at his wife. “Mrs Jackson, please calm down.” She wasn’t even listening at this point, she was wailing loudly and screaming so loud that I had to put my hands over my ears.

She started flitting in and out like a glitch and I knew I needed to end the session immediately.

She looked at me all of a sudden and screamed, “he killed me! He put an air bubble in my tube.” She was incoherent after that, her grief became a rage that consumed her.

The air felt heavy and the lights above us flickered.

Her wailing became louder and, though I wanted to cross her over into the light and end her suffering, I knew it was too late, I couldn’t reach her in this state as she was no longer just a spirit, she was one of the damned now.

I slammed my power into her and commanded her to leave, and quickly locked down my necromancy breaking the connection.

Silence fell across the room.

But I still felt her.

Her pain.

Her fear.

Her despair.

Necromancers felt everything the dead carried with them, and I knew her suffering would stay with me for a while.

Mr Jackson was pressed up against the wall looking white as a ghost, no pun intended.

I went over to him and grabbed him by the throat. “you used to beat your wife,” I snarled.

His eyes widened.

“And when she was laying there dying, you thought you’d take matters into your own hands!”

He was scared but tried to fight me off to no avail. “So what, the police will never believe you they can’t prove anything!” He spat.

“Who said anything about the police?” I snarled.

“Your wife is one of the damned now, and do you know what my other specialty is, Mr Jackson?”

I leaned closer. “I can call forth the dead of the damned. I can send them to torment you until you beg for death.”

His breathing turned ragged.

“I think I might just do that.”

I tilted my head. “But I’ll make sure it’s her I send to you tonight…or maybe I’ll wait and surprise you.” I smiled coldly when I said it and he shrank back from me in terror, when I let him go he ran from the building.

I could do what I had just threatened, but unfortunately, I couldn’t make sure it was his wife. I couldn’t choose which dead of the damned came to me.

But he didn’t need to know that.

The rest of the day was uneventful, and when closing time came, I wondered if Esmeralda would be at mine.

She wasn’t home, not that I really expected her to be.

The apartment felt strangely empty as I stepped insides. I hung my coat up by the door and glanced around automatically, half expecting to see her curled up on the sofa with Tom in her lap or hear her soft footsteps moving around the kitchen.

Nothing.

Just silence.

Tom looked up at me from where he was stretched across the sofa and then immediately looked behind me.

Waiting.

Still looking for her.

“Sorry, buddy, I f.ucked up again,” I muttered.

I pulled my phone out and tried calling her, it took four tries before she actually answered.

“Hello?” She sniffled down the line.

“Hey babe, where are you?” I asked softly.

She sniffled again, and it hurt to hear her so upset because of me.

“I’m at home, why?”

“Can I come and talk to you?”

“No, I don’t want to see you right now.”

I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead.

That hurt, but I understood.

“Will you still be coming to work tomorrow?”

She was quiet for a few seconds, then I heard her sigh. “Yes, I still need the job.”

“Ok, I will give you the space you need until you’re ready, and I’ll keep it professional between us for now if it will help?”

“Yes, it will. Thank you.”

I stared out of the window into the darkness outside.

“Ok, well, I just want you to know that I’m right here if you need me, or you want to talk.”

My voice softened. “I’m not going anywhere.”

I leaned back against the wall.

“I’m yours, even if you don’t want me, I’m still yours. I’m never going to want anyone else, so if it takes a month, a year, or twenty years… I’m here.”

Silence.

Then—

“Ok, goodnight Lucan.”

I heard a smile in her voice that time and was glad she found some comfort in my words.

I got to work the next day, and Dana was actually there early for once. She sat behind her desk drinking coffee and scrolling through something on the computer.

We were talking a little, and she finally asked, “so are we ok now? Or do you still hate me and want to give me the silent treatment?”

I snorted and threw my empty styrofoam cup at her head.

“I don’t hate you i.diot.”

Dana yelped and threw her hands up to protect her face. “Stop it, d.ick!”

I opened my mouth with a comeback ready, but then Esmeralda walked through the door and we both turned to look at her.

The room suddenly felt weirdly quiet.

She hung her bag and coat up slowly.

Since feeding from me, she felt the cold now, and today she wore a coat wrapped tighter around herself than usual.

“Hey Es, you alright?” I asked, trying to hide how awkward I felt.

She only nodded.

No smile.

No blush.

Nothing.

The day wasn’t too busy, so I came out to let my client know I could see her now. I stopped in the doorway and watched Esmeralda smile and nod at something the client said, just a small smile.

Soft.

Shy.

And my heart skipped a beat. That f.ucking smile always got me, and for a second, I couldn’t bear the thought of never having her smile at me like that again.

That maybe I’d ruined it.

I caught Dana watching me from behind the desk.

S.hit. I quickly composed myself and told my client I could see her now.