The Necromancer.
Author's prelude
Before you start this piece of my imagination, i advice you to be mentally prepare for the explicit and twisted minds of human psyche. This is a story i dreamt one day, ever since then i was preparing to pen my imagination. I hope you enjoy this as much i enjoy creating it. I tried to make it as much short as possible but i couldn't stop writing as my mind was full of these fictions. I am asking you to spend your precious time on this lengthy words. I know it in my bones that you won't be disappointed.
Please be aware of the "some uncomfortable close to gore like narratives" in the chapter V. Well it's not for the light hearted.
I
Chris dabbled through the alley, little could he make grasp of the surroundings but the irregular lightning helped him to locate the destination he was headed. There was a certain smile on Chris 's face as he saw the pub materializing infront of him.
A red neon light reflected by the wet road made his senses tingle with a certain relief.
"Finally!" He exclaimed.
How long has he been walking to get to the neighbourhood bar? The pleasure of walking in the night, especially close to midnight is something only he could enjoy.
"Man it's freezing out here."
Rubbing his hands together, he said as his legs grew heavier from the cold.
Neon red and frigidness outside the bar felt like an illusion, when he walked into the bar a yellow warmth caressed his body. Everything outside deemed irrelavent compared to the lively inside of the bar. Chris took off his grey wet coat and looked around the familiar atmosphere.
"G'day mate. What'll 'ya have?"
It was the bartender. A stout, tall man late in his forties waved his arms suggesting Chris to take a seat.
"Glenfiddich neat, thanks."
"Rough day? " the stout man asked curiously.
"Not really."
"Not much crowd. 'tis year's a bitch and hell with the weather mate. The world is comin' to an end!"
"I wish"
Chris took a sip from his glass of neat whiskey. The bar was almost empty. Well it's a pain to go out at this weather. I should have stayed in the bed.
There wasn't any familiar faces, hoping to make most out his time, he carelessly looked around while sipping his whiskey, a man took a seat next to him. He was tall, well build and dressed almost comically in a black tux spoke with an irish accent.
"It's quite aesthetic."
"Well if depressing is aesthetic then sure." Chris made a sarcastic smile at the stranger.
"Depressing for some. Aesthetic for another."
The strange man spoke in an usual tone, his aquamarine eyes fitted perfectly in the chiselled face. To kill his boredom Chris asked in a curious tone.
"What do you make of aesthetic then?"
"You look at the cresent moon in the evening sky blended with the aftermath of blue of dusk, and wonder how magical is this? This is like a picture we see in a painting yet so real that it can't be put into words? Or when you go on a leisurely walk down the field and you gaze upon a dragonfly. That is real yet it feel like something out of a magic? That is aesthetic for me. It is so magical yet real. Magical realism."
"You an admirer of art?" Chris was drawn to his personality.
"If you put it that way then yes. Everything around us is art don't you think? Even if we think this is so depressing there is still some art in it. The thought itself is an art. Some calls me a madman or some calls me an artist. Maybe i am what all of them think i am. Maybe i am not. That is too aesthetic. Isn't it? "
Chris looked astonshingly at the stranger, the strange way he spoke made some kind of sense in him. Maybe we all are madman?
"Oh so rude of me not to ask your name "
"Zync Dazl. Nice to meet you?" He raised his hands to shake which Chris recieved with much polite and introduced himself.
"Chris McErgor"
"Say Chris, what do you do for living?"
" I'm a chef at Lardley's."
" See you are also an artist aren't you Chris? Your art feed another's hunger. What a fine art it is."
"Well it pays less"
but I never thought of my profession as an art. Well he does makes sense.
Zync looked at his glass of bourbon and took a sip from it, shaking the glass which made a sound of ice cube crashing with one another he asked him with a frown.
"So do you agree this is aesthetic then Chris?"
"What is? The weather?"
"No. No. This. This moment. Don't you think it was all predetermined? The unusual weather? And of us both finding ourself in boredom and end up in this bar? And of our talk? Work of some strange power connecting the dot of the straight line of our lives to put us in this exact moment? "
"Are you a philosopher? "
well you do seem to talk about things that are quite incredible. Maybe its the alcohol? This guy is either drunk or a madman.
"No Chris. I am a Necromancer."
II
To talk about our protoganist 'Chris McErgor ', he is rather a lugubrious sober. He was all happy and living a smooth life till three months ago. At the age of 28 he married his college sweetheart and got well settle in a comfortable villa in the north. It was on a fine sunday afternoon, two years into in his marriage life, Clair his wife annuanciated her pregnancy results.
"Chris?"
"You're going to be a father"
She said straight to his face. Her hands were trembling with excitement to the expression on Chris's face. His happy day! He declared to the world at that moment
i am the happiest man alive today.
It was also the day he cursed his existence and wished that the day never happened.
They were going to dine at a fancy restaurant after Clair made him the happiest alive, driving their Chrysler Pacifica on that cold evening.
"So what you're going to name your daughter?"
She looked at him playfully punching his arms.
"Daughter? No. It's a boy!" Chris said.
"So you want her to be a boy then?"
"Then i will have someone to play video games with. It's so boring to play alone though."
"Ohh... you father and son are going to single me out. are you?"
She threw his hand hard at the steering wheel, friskily she turned her face to the window. The frozen mist and itty-bitty drops of rain on the windows made a blissful atmosphere. Daft punk's fragments of time was playing along with their joy.
"Did you tell your mother?" Chris asked.
"I was planing on calling her."
It all happened in a blink of an eye. All he saw was a dazzling beams of the truck, desperate face of a driver and then everything went black.
He lost control of the vehicle, to avoid the death he drove into a recess. The car made a sudden jerk as it flip itself into the air and made a roaring sound as it crashed into the ground.
An eerie dread and helplessness made his reflexes numb, seeing his wife covered in blood he let out a wail of anguish. The car laid upside down lifeless to the ghastly scenery and Daft Punk's music.
He opened his eyes to a blurred images of the hospital bed. The intense smell of chemicals made him nauseous.
Where am i?
He was in the National hospital's emergency ward.
What happened? Yes, we were going to celebrate. We were happy. What the fuck happened then?
He tried so hard to squint at the silhouetted figures infont of him, after some moment of intense focus, everything became clear to him.
All the images of the shock came back like photographs to his eyes. Upside down strapped to her seat belt Clair hung, lifeless. The blood and shattered glasses painted her body horrible.
"Don't strain too much Mr. McErgor. Try to sit down. Come on"
A women dressed in a white overcoat spoke to him hoping to bring him back to reality.
"Where's my wife?"
Chris asked grabing her hands. It all made sense to him finally. The truth is always painful. He hoped it to be a dream that never happened. But it already been a reality.
"Mr. McErgor, we are so sorry to say this to you. We lost your wife."
"My baby?"
"I am sorry"
She said it straight to my face. What's wrong with the world today? Why can't you lie for once atleast? Does the world gone saint all of a sudden? So much truth, all on the same day? This much pressure. I can't handle this alone. God! Is there even a god? Why would you do this to me? You piece of shit!
Fuck you.
Fuck you.
FUCK YOU!!!
It's that son of a bitch's fault. He was smoking. I saw that bastard's face. He was stoned. He killed my wife. He killed my son. My baby boy. I was going to be a father. We were going to be a happy family. Clair. I miss you baby. Please come back. FUCK!!! I can't take this anymore. It hurts! This pain. It hurt so much.
It hurts.
It hurts.
It hurts so much!
III
So long has it have been since the ghost of his past came to haunt him. Chris was constantly taking Diazepam. Addiction to antidepressant was his coping mechanism to overcome deprivation. Everyday he wakes up to an illusion created by this chemical. His entire world revolved between the apartment and the restaurant. But on this unusual day, the thread that seperated his sanity and madness stood questioned infront of this incredible man. Who claims to be a Necromancer.
"Necromancer?" Chris asked.
"Yes a Necromancer." Zync Dazl replied.
"What do you mean? Are you fucking with me?"
Zync Dazl looked at Chris with a pleasant smile and stood himself up. He looked at the corner of the bar where an empty table stood. Gracefully taking his glass of bourbon in his hands, he moved towards the table. Chris followed him with anticipation. They both took their seat at the corner of that rectangular building. The glass windows spoke out of the outside world to their visions. The blurry reflected images of their reality were clearly visible on the wet glass. The lightning habitually made his visions tingle with a sense of wonder. Chris looked at the humane figure of this magnificant man infront of him. The crescent moon gave off a silver beam of light through the dark cloud illuminating Zync Dazl's traits.
He is right. It is like a magic. This moment. A predeteremined moment? It's quite aesthetic indeed!
"What do you mean by 'Necromancer'? You raise dead then?" Chris asked.
"Well I don't say I raise dead. But yes. We deal with dead."
"You are drunk, man."
"Sometimes it's pretty hard to believe the truth. Isn't it Chris? It was like that moment right? You wished for some miracle to happen?"
Zync Dazl spoke with such a grace like he was talking to his child. Caressing him with such dignity and admire. Chris couldn't doubt any intentions because of the passion his words potrayed.
Is this guy serious right now? Is he drunk? Or is he fucking with me? But he sounds real though. He does makes sense! I should ignore his blasphemy and entertain myself with his mad. But still...
Zync took out a bizzare looking hand book from his pocket. The cover of the book was made up of some kind of fancy wood and runic letters were carved on it. The dark green comliness of that book spoke out its ancient root of existence to the world. Every amber colored page contained runic scribblings and writings that a normal intelligence will find hard to fanthom. There were diagrams, shapes and numbers all in disorder yet beatifully creating an order. An ancient manuscript!
"What is this then? A guide for the Necromancer?" Chris mocked.
"Close enough. It's the book of knowledge"
"That's a fancy name for a book."
"Apochrypha. The book of knowledge is called as so."
"Can I win a lottery if I read this?"
"Not quite. Maybe you can bring back Clair?"
"Fucker! What's your deal?"
Chris rushed at Zync with such a fury, his voice reverberated inside the empty building. How the fuck did he know clair's name? This is getting out of hand now.
"Calm down Chris. Violence is not fitted for a man like you, besides the bartender is looking."
Chris led out a sigh and calmed himself.
"Relax Chris. I know it's alot to take in. But you have to accpet this part of your reality too. It's not the drugs or the alcohol. This is happening Chris. The miracle you wished for. This is the miracle. I know everything about you. I have seen your memory. I have seen your pain. It aches me too, to see you grieve like this. And I want to help you. I can give your Claire back. I can make Clair live again. "
"What the fuck do you mean? seen my memory?"
"I can see other people's memory. Or should I say I could tap myself into the stream of Infinite consciousness and experience another person's life through their memory."
"What?"
"It's like the internet Chris. In this world we all are connected through some kind of wireless network and our memories and thoughts and imagination are uploaded into this cloud of universal consciousness. Just like you upload a photo into the internet. We call this collective stream of consciousness as infinite consciousness. "
"What are you even saying man? This is not funny anymore."
It hurts. It hurts so bad. Each words his mouth utters is piercing my flesh like a sword, yet still it is so soothing. Everything he says makes sense to me. It's the hope that aches me. The hope that maybe he is right. Hope that he could save me from this eternal torment. Hope of happiness! Hope sure is a dangerous thing.
"Don't worry Chris. This will make sense to you. This will make sense to you only. Because your suffering as been noticed. It is time for you to witness your miracle child."
"You are giving me hope to a hopeless and unscientific thing? How can you bring back my dead wife? She is dead. Dead! You can't beat death. You can never!"
"Allow me to tell you a story Chris."
Zync Dazl with a gentle smile pressed his back on the chair and took a sip of black bourbon from his glass. Thus the Necromancer began his story.
IV
"Long ago, the ancient Earth grew the seed of Men. Born naked and helpless into the cold Earth, the clan of Men feared. Wild hunted the sons of men and drove them into hiding. Everywhere he lived, predator dug its claw deep. One day, daughter of men found the fruit of knowledge in her garden. With the power of knowledge, daughter of Men and her husband created weapons from wood, stone and iron. They conquered their predators. With the power of knowledge and weapons the reign of Men over the Earth began. The Men of knowledge as they came to be known afterwards. The husband and wife came to known throughout the history, with different names. Adam and Eve, some of us calls them. But their real name is a mystery till this date.
Boredom and curiousity became the only pleasure these Emperors of the world known.
Out of curiousity they wielded their sword of knowledge. The life around them and their purpose, he was in a quest to find the meaning. Thus the art of study of the universe was born. Alchemy they call it. The study to understand the universe. These alchemists spending their time with curiosity in studying the universe came up with a law. A law everything in the universe obeyed. The law of equivalent exchange as it is known. You can create one thing from another if you give a fair price. An exchange of a sort with proper balance between the two. There is nothing greedy in this world except Human heart. He alone wished to be lived healthy and wealthy. The men then tried to create gold from ordinary metals like copper and silver. All was based on the laws of Alchemy. A fair exchange.
Nothing shakes human mind than the fear of death. Even the greed failed infront of death. With the power of knowledge, Men tried to overcome death itself. Then one day a man named Jabir Ibin Hayyan conquered death. With the help of alchemy, he brewed the Elixir of life.
It was also called the potion of immortality. But human greed found it's time to reveal it's claws. It corrupted the minds of Men. War raged for the Elixir of life. Thousands and thousands of life were lost. The world was ravaged with blood and tears. Then the clan of men who drank the elixir of life vanished from the world along with the potion. But those men of Jabir Ibin Hayyan, who lived forever and fought death came to be known as the Necromancer. The people feared them, and created horrible stories about them and drove them into hiding. The same place once they hide. "
Chris listened to the story like a child. His eyes sparkled with joy. He knew then, this was not a dream. It was the miracle he wished for and this man infront of him was nothing more than a god.
"So you are saying if we have the elixir of life then we can bring my wife back to life?"
"It's not that easy Chris, inorder to get something you have to give something. Inorder get life you have to give life. Thats how it works. Law of equivalent exchange."
"So i have to give life? You mean I have to kill someone?"
"Yes you have to give life to gain life. But that doesn't mean it has to be a human life. You have to sacrife 3 lambs. Their life will be added to Clair's life."
"So where is the elixir of life?" Chris asked. He was conviced with the Necromancer.
"It's in my blood"
"Your blood? "
"Yes. We the subjects of Jabir Ibin Hayyan carries the elixir of life in our blood. My blood is the elixir."
Chris took a deep sigh. I don't know if it's true or not but this is the only thing I have now. I believe in him. This angelic figure trying to save me from this hell. I believe in him.
"I'll do it." Chris said.
"It's a vow Chris. You have to vow and do the unthinkable. There is also a price you have to pay. I don't know what that will be. But there will be a price." Zync said with a concerned tone.
"I don't care. I will do anything. I will do anything if I can see her again"
"Are you sure Chris?"
"What should I do? Tell me. I will do it"
"We have to start the ritual before the sunrises. You need to get me something of her"
"What you need?"
"I need two strands of her hair and two nails from her right hand."
"You don't mean that do you? It's impossible. She's dead for almost three months now. Where am I supposed to get her nails?"
Zync Dazl with graceful smile looked at Chris's rasputin eyes and said,
"This is the vow you ought to keep Chris. This is the unthinkable you have to do."
"That is all I have to do?"
"No. You have to deposit your seed in her and before the sunrise the potion of immortality should be consumed by the one whose seed is on the dead."
"I have to have sex with my dead wife and drink your blood before sunrise? "
"This is the unthinkable Chris. I have lived a long life Chris. I have seen men do bizarre things for their loved ones. And now it's your turn. Come back here before the sunrise. I will give your love back. And I vow on it."
V
Dark sky lay flat over the calm earth. Crescent moon projected it's gracious silver light into the ground through the dark omnious clouds. The drops of the drizzle made a melencholic sound of dread and lonliness. Infront of her grave Chris stood silent holding a shovel in his right hand. The alarming chirping of the crickets melt his heart into a frenzy of giving up. Everying in the nature felt horrendous to the picturesque scenery of the moon infront of him. There on the gravestone in metallic italian something was written,
In the loving memory
Of a daughter, a sister, a wife -
a mother. Lies here peacefully.
Clair McErgor
(1988-2020)
Without much of an effort he broke off the head of the marbled tomb. Lifting himself up he dug the shovel hard in the ground. He kicked the head of the tomb making it to slide open. This revealed the wooden coffin of the beautiful Clair, whose on an eternal slumber.
Don't think. Don't fucking think. It's just like the Necromancer promised. He promised. All I have to do is get my baby's hair and two nails from her right hand. Then I have to make love to her. Go back to the bar before the sunrise and drink his blood and kill three lambs. It's just simple as that. After this we can go back to live happily. Clair, Are you listening?
He climbed up on the tomb and sat down on the coffin. Moonlight gleamed through the freezing sweat on his forehead. How you been baby? I missed you so much. Lot of things happened today. You won't guess who i met today. A Necromancer babe. A fucking Necromancer. He said he can bring you back. He said we can finally be together again.
Tears ran through his face as he opened the coffin. A grotesque corpse lay there instead of the beautiful Clair. There were hardly any skin on her skeleton. Darkened sticky residual skin disposed her body, the remainings of her white clothes became dirty and darkened with mud and maggots. She had no eyes instead a dark cavity of nothingness. Maggots and weird insects worshipped her body like home. A stench of rotten flesh and insects spread throughout the atmosphere. It was not Clair. It was not beautiful. It was the dreadful picture of the death. It was grotesque. Horrible. It was far worse than hell. It was death. A corpse. Not clair!
What the fuck is this? This smell! I will faint. Just hold on. Don't think. This is devil. Oh my god. This is not Clair. Just get the hair and nails.
Chris carefully took a small plastic bag from his coat, which was given to him by the Necromancer. He tried to get a single strand of hair from it's scalp but his faint force tore it's entire scalp. Oh fuck. Somehow he managed to get two stands of it's dead hair. What he wanted next was it's nails. He looked at the right hand of the corpse with much despair. On it was their wedding ring. Gold turned into mud. He held his breath and tore her nails, collected them in his plastic bag.
Chris sat down on top of the corpse. He looked at her dead, rotten body. Feminine features of it's body still lingered in his mind. He ripped the clothes from the corpse and touched it's breast. There were no organs but some dark sticky skin looking like organs. He prepared himself to make love to her again after so long.
In life we became one
In death we shall still be one!
He chanted as he fucked the corpse.
Blessed are we.
Our will, will survive eternity.
In life we became one
In death we shall still be one.
He chanted as he made love to the corpse.
After closing the tomb, he looked at the plastic bag contained the dead. With a smile of satisfaction he put the bag inside his coat. His quest was complete. Now it's time for the reward. This is a heroic deed indeed!
After an hour of walking he made it to the bar, He walked directly to the bartender. After all this bizarre adventure to save his wife, he needed a drink. He deserved a drink! He felt like a noble warrior fighting an evil creature from hell to save his queen. He is now a hero. He became a hero.
"Mate, when did ya' leave? " the stout bartender asked curiously.
"Something's came up. I had to check on my wife. She's asleep now. "
"Ya' lovin' husband? Prefering over drink? Imma' kinda man who drinks all day mate. Booze is my wife." He chuckled.
"Get me a bourbon with rocks please. Thank you."
"That you'll have"
Bartender served Chris's drink. He looked around for the Necromancer while patiently sipping his whiskey. Half an hour went by, but still he couldn't find the Necromancer. He panicked! Desperatly he called out to the bartender.
"Excuse me"
"Name 's Ted." The bartender responded
"Oh sorry Ted. Have you seen a tall guy in black tux? When did he leave?"
"Tall guy? Black tux?"
"Yeah, he was tall, well-build. Wore a black tux. He had this blue eyes."
"Son. Listen."
The bartender looked at Chris with concern.
"Look son, i'm not prying into your personal life or anything. We have seen you do this all the time. Is this some kind of joke? Or are you sick?"
"What? Joke?"
"Son ya' been comin' here for a week now. Every night around eleven on the clock, ya' ask for a drink. And ya' talk to yourself. And ya' go to that corner talking to yourself. Ya' sit at that corner and ya' write something in your dairy then go to somewhere. An hour later you show up. And ask for this man in black with blue eyes? What's wrong with you?"
Chris stood silent for moment. His vision blurred. He looked at his hands. They were shaking with despair. He put his hand inside the coat where he put the plastic bag of the dead. There were seven same plastic bags in his pocket. Each of the bag contained two strand of dead hair and two nails.
Seven bags?
On the left pocket of his coat contain a pocket dairy. It was apochrya!
He smiled at the bartender. Drinking the last sip from his glass of whiskey he said.
"I'm fine. I'm just playing with you. It's this game my wife and I come up with. It's so funny thou. Anyway thanks for the drink."
"Ya wanna me to call ya' wife son?"
"No Ted. That won't be necessary. She is sleeping. She is tired."
"Are ya' sure?"
"I'm sure Ted. Goodnight"
Chris grabbed his coat and exited the bar to the outside reality.
So this is the price I have to pay?
He walked through the wet alley. His heart ached with despair.
Truth? Is there any truth left? I should stop taking pills! Well what the hell!
There was a certain satisfaction to his smile. He was content. He finally found his solace. Let it be unknown and uncontrolled. Let him hide just like the sons of Men hide from the wild. He walked breathing the cold air around him, that moment froze in motion as the first ray of sunlight kissed the earth. The dawn was upon him. The sun rose to the melancholic rhythm of the night. He looked at the sky. The clouds and the sun fit perfectly in the sky like it had been painted by some great artist.
It's quite an art! He exclaimed.
It was aesthetic. That moment was so magical that he thought it couldn't be real. He was quite happy to be borned in to this beautiful world. He found his purpose.
Just like Zync said, it was all predetermined by some stranger power. It's a miracle indeed!
Yellow warm sky lay flat over the cool, fresh earth embracing the truth of the day. Where through the wet alley a man walked without a care in the world? He smiled at the sky as he chanted something to himself.
Is he the Necromancer?
No! He is not the Necromancer.
I am the Necromancer!
Fin.
Comments
Post a Comment