《The Necromancer's Fate》


 Chapter One - Damien

    Damien opened his eyes, and the dead filled the streets.


    Drifting aimlessly, most act as though they don¡¯t see the living. Other spirits moan for help or follow those they loved and lost. Damien had the unique privilege of being able to shift his gaze in and out of the Ethereal. The realm between. On this particular evening, he was looking for someone.


    Damien looked out from the half-built apartment complex down to the hundreds, possibly thousands of spirits that drifted this way and that. The street below was lit by dull floating globes of light bobbing slowly up and down each sidewalk. Each spirit was marked by the cause of their death and wore the clothes or lack of clothes they died in. This caused a smattering of apparel from all periods of Fenwrath¡¯s history. Soldiers who had stormed the capital during the First Era wore thick leathers with black fletched arrows sticking from their backs as they tried to flee. Men, women, and children forever burned denoted the Third Era when Devils and Demons set the city ablaze.


    A luminous indigo light flared from down the street where Damien watched a car glide through the street of dead. Propelled by a liquified form of blue Void Rock the car floated about a foot off the ground as it sailed by. The people in the car, of course, could not see what they coasted through. Damien could see the driver visibly shudder as they passed through one of the spirits.


    ¡°That alley across the street is where you saw it?¡± Damien said.


    ¡°Yes,¡± came a timid response. Damien pulled his attention from the lifeless below. Fred¡¯s towering frame was kneeling, holding the hand of a mousey Halfling. She had deep slashes down her left cheek and across her throat. Ethereal blue blood perpetually dripped to the floor where it faded to nothingness. Fred looked toward Damien with a solemn expression.


    ¡°Winnow is terrified of these beasts, Damien.¡± Fred said, turning his attention back to the Halfling. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. You got the best in the business. We are going to make sure that the creatures can¡¯t hurt anyone else. You have my word.¡±


    Winnow smiled half-heartedly. Even while kneeling Fred was close to a head taller than the girl. His massive hand dwarfed hers as he held it. Damien turned his attention back down to the street below. Most of the spirits wandered without direction. Numb and without purpose. They seemed to sail with no knowledge of where they were. Some like Fred and Winnow had acknowledged their death and without a push could interact with the living.


    Fred drifted up to where Damien watched. Fred was a walking oddball. He was Elvish and close to seven feet tall. A lot of the height was from the chunky boots and six-inch mohawk atop his head. When he had passed, he was dressed in a black leather jacket with spikes and studs all over it. He wore a shirt that depicted THE DEMENTED PIXIES. A band that was terrible 40 years ago when it was popular. Fred lifted an ethereal cigarette to his lips with his left hand and took a long drag. With his right hand he gently flicked a lighter open and closed. Damien couldn¡¯t help but stare at the cuts dripping blood from both of Fred¡¯s wrists. Over the last year, he had never asked why Fred had died. It seemed too painful a detail to bring up.


    Fred gestured with the cigarette across the street toward the alley, ¡°We got company.¡±


    Damien snapped his eyes in the direction Fred pointed and could make out two ghosts both human men dressed in similar clothing, a heavy leather coat that draped down to their knees. Embroidered on the back was a serpent head with fangs bared over crossed bones, the symbol of their former gang, The Immortals. They were a cult, worshipping Golyat the Leviathan, a demon from the Seven Hells. Neither of them had any visible wounds that Damien could make out from this distance. They were probably sacrifices sworn to a vengeance pact to a rival gang and poisoned. If done right they would die and become immortal, able to drift between the worlds, invisible to common folk.


    One of the spirits, a man with hair down to his mid back, shoved one of the Wanderers, making them stumble to the ground. The Wanderer stood slowly and continued into the crowd on the street. The men then greeted each other, and the long-haired man pulled a glistening locket on a golden chain from his pocket. The second ghost, a man with a shaved head and tattoos mimicking the Goliath culture up the back of his neck and head, laughed loud enough for Damien to hear from his post in the apartment. It was strange to see something so bright surrounded by such a faded landscape within the Ethereal. It was an object of the living stolen by the dead. From what Winnow had described to Fred it was an amulet of protection, gifted to her from her grandmother. A true protection amulet would have prevented these two thugs from getting anywhere close to Winnow. In Damien¡¯s opinion the grifters who sold such fakes were among some of the worst people in the city. The light form of magic within the amulet was enough to draw attention, but not enough to stop an assault.


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    Damien could see Fred tense as the locket sparkled in the bobbing globes of light that passed. ¡°Two weeks we¡¯ve been looking for this guy. Seems like your location glyphs could use a little bit of work.¡±


    ¡°Fred, stay with her. I will be back in a moment.¡± Damien summoned energy up from his feet and felt the familiar intoxication of power pulse through his body. He twisted his hands into an intricate glyph pattern with swirling lines. This particular glyph was for fluidity and movement. With the final lines in place, he forced the magic out and with a dull pop his body buzzed. Damien then leapt from the window, his dark hair whipping around his face. He was propelled by the magic 20 or so feet and landed with a crisp thump directly in front of the cultists. Purple necromantic force erupted outward in all directions cracking the pavement where Damien landed and sent the two ghostly thugs sprawling to the ground.


    ¡°THAT DOESN¡¯T BELONG TO YOU,¡± Damien let the energy pulse through his voice. Though he spoke lowly, the power caused the ground to shake. The long-haired man snapped upright in an instant. It was nearly too fast to see, just a blur in the night air. Damien flicked his right hand to the side closing it in a fist. The man was grabbed by a telekinetic force locking his body in place. With his left hand, Damien deftly drew a glyph in the air. This one summoned the purple light of his magic but was sharp and angular. A glyph of exorcism. The ghost with the shaved head flickered up to a standing position and began to fly down the alley away from the necromancer. Unfortunately for him, Damien was faster. With a snap of his fingers to close the glyph, Damien sent a surge of necromantic energy chasing the ghost. The wave of violet crushed the ghost like a boulder dissipating him and leaving behind a puddle of black, briny ectoplasm with a splat on the ground.


    Damien turned his attention to the long-haired man still locked in his telekinetic hold. The same violet energy dripped from Damien¡¯s eyes as he stepped up to the cultist. Damien saw fear growing in the thug¡¯s eyes. True fear. This made Damien smile. There was nothing more dangerous to a ghost than a proficient necromancer and this man knew that. Damien pulled free the locket still clutched in the cultist¡¯s hand, pocketing it for now. The locket buzzed with just enough abjuration to be noticeable but without the final enchantments to make it functional. Damien gripped his right fist tighter and brought it forward and down, forcing the spirit to its knees.


    Damien drew the same angular exorcism glyph pattern with his left hand. Purple light illuminated the long-haired man¡¯s face. The ghost opened his mouth as if to beg and Damien snapped his fingers once more leaving the ghost in a pile of ectoplasm on the ground. Both pools of ectoplasm steamed for a moment before dissolving into nothingness.


    Damien breathed in deeply before pushing the energy out of his body with his exhale. The power was invigorating. Literal control over life and death. It was no wonder so many novice sorcerers and wizards chased immortality through necromancy. Damien walked back to the half-finished apartment building. He opened the door to the apartment where Fred and Winnow waited.


    ¡°Those two aren¡¯t going to hurt anyone else,¡± Damien said. Winnow looked visibly relieved. He walked over to where she waited and knelt. He removed the locket from his pocket and held it out to her. Winnow looked to the locket and smiled.


    ¡°I don¡¯t imagine I can take that with me,¡± she said.


    ¡°No,¡± Fred replied, ¡°Unfortunately not. It was taken from your body before your passing and is not of our world.¡±


    ¡°We can take it to someone close to you,¡± Damien said, ¡°If you want.¡±


    Winnow looked at the locket again before she replied, ¡°Take it to my daughter. Let her have a memory of me and help my husband understand that I am okay,¡± she glanced past Damien to something he couldn¡¯t see, ¡°Nuria awaits me. Please tell them a warm hearth will be waiting when it is their time to join me.¡±


    Damien nodded, a tear welling up in his eye. This was the hardest part. Winnow smiled at Fred and squeezed his cheek. A faint glow flared in the apartment and when it subsided Winnow was gone. Damien wiped his eyes and stood determined.


    Fred let out a sigh, ¡°They never tell us where to find their relatives.¡±


    ¡°I know where they are,¡± Damien said turning and leaving the apartment.

 Chapter Two - Damien

    Damien and Fred approached a series of town houses on the northern side of Windcrest within the Halfling ward. Each of the town homes seemed unique when viewed from the outside. Some formed out of crisp, deep oak, others crafted from light ash trees. Damien walked for a time, until he was lost. Fred followed loyally though he clicked his lighter in anticipation. He was never one for waiting.


    Eventually Damien began to feel a warmth in his chest. A pull toward something. He let the force drag him forward, twisting through the neighborhood. A couple of streets passed in a blur until Damien stopped at the base of a series of steps.


    ¡°What? Is this it?¡± Fred said.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Damien replied, ¡°I think this is it.¡±


    ¡°How do you know?¡±


    Damien pointed to the oak door. Carved into it was the depiction of a flaming fireplace, ¡°The devout of Nuria are supposed to keep a hearth burning just in case someone lost needs a place to rest. I just figured someone whose last words were of family and hearth,¡± Damien shrugged.


    ¡°You are a very smart man, despite what they say about you,¡± Fred said, ¡°Shall we?¡± Fred gestured up the steps to the front door. He knew to stay farther away when Damien delivered the news. A lot of people could feel spirits in the Ethereal even if they did not know what it was. It was better to avoid having the loved ones think that Winnow was still around.


    ¡°Hold up a second,¡± Damien took the locket from his coat and undid the latch to reveal a picture of two Halflings smiling together. One of them was Winnow, maybe a few years younger, though it was hard to tell with Halflings. The other was an older Halfling woman with white in her hair and lines creasing her face. Damien focused on the abjuration magic emanating from the locket and drew a light azure glyph in the air. This one rectangular, unrelenting. He closed the glyph and with a snap sealed the magic within the locket finishing the enchantment. He then stepped up to the door and began to hang the locket from the door handle. Before he could, the door opened. A little Halfling girl with a bundle of curly brown hair opened the door. The child looked as if she had just woken up, judging by the way she rubbed her fists into her eyes.


    ¡°Um¡­hi¡­. small child,¡± Damien said glancing inside. The home was exactly what he had come to expect from those devout to Nuria Goddess of Family, Hearth, and Harvest. Damien was immediately accosted by the scent of earth and wood smoke. The living room was covered in vines hanging from plants on the ceiling and draped across the fireplace mantle. The vines across the fireplace seemed to have no issue thriving next to the heat of the fire.


    ¡°I was waiting up fow you, but I fell asleep. You took a while,¡± she replied. She seemed to have trouble with her Rs in the common language.


    ¡°Dava, what are you doing out¡ª-.¡± A more masculine voice came from farther in the house. A Halfling man jogged up to where Dava was holding the door and after seeing Damien he immediately pulled the girl behind his back defensively. The Halfling man stood somewhere between Damien¡¯s knee and hip in height and had a mop of curly hair atop his head matching his daughter¡¯s. Damien could see that the man was not used to receiving strangers at this time of night.


    ¡°I told you Dah. Nuwia said to wait fow the lost. Just like Mah would,¡± Dava said.


    ¡°I take it Winnow was not the only religious one in the family,¡± Damien gestured to the carving on the door.


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    The Halfling man glanced at the door and then back at Damien his eyes narrowed, ¡°How do you know Winnow?¡±


    The man was skeptical, Damien thought. That was understandable. It probably wasn¡¯t often that a human found himself in the Halfling ward. Even rarer still was a human using the name of a Halfling that disappeared nearly a month ago. Probably best to stick with honesty. Damien pulled his badge from beneath his shirt.


    ¡°I am a Necro with the Office of Spectral Activity,¡± Damien said, ¡°O. S. A.¡±


    The Halfling looked at the badge and his shoulder¡¯s slumped. Tears welled up in his eyes as they drifted to the floor. ¡°Is she okay?¡± he asked. Though it seemed he knew the answer.


    ¡°She is now,¡± Damien said, meeting the Halfling¡¯s eyes, ¡°She wanted us to tell you that Nuria awaits her, and that a warm hearth will be waiting for you when it is your time.¡± Damien knelt and held out his hand, letting the locket dangle from his fingers. ¡°She also wanted me to give this to you, little one.¡±


    Dava moved around her father and stepped out onto the small porch. The man seemed to be in shock. It was not the first time Damien had to deliver news like this to the loved ones of the deceased. It was never easy. He took the locket and clasped it around the young Halfling¡¯s neck. She took a moment and opened the locket smiling at the pictures within.


    ¡°Dah! Look! It¡¯s Mah!¡± Dava squealed.


    Damien could feel the light buzz of abjuration magic emanating from the locket now. He nodded feeling satisfied. ¡°That locket will keep bad things away, little one,¡± Damien said.


    The Halfling man was still staring at the floor. Damien moved up and attempted to place a hand on the man¡¯s shoulder. The man shifted backwards at once pulling his daughter into the house. Damien yanked his hand back. ¡°I know this is not how you would wish to hear this news. I am sorry¡­... for what it is worth.¡±


    The man pushed Dava farther into the house and turned back to Damien with tears running down his cheeks. He spoke intensely, ¡°Bring her back¡­. I¡­I have money. I can pay, just bring her back to me!¡±


    Damien stepped back, ¡°Sir, no. I can¡¯t. It¡¯s not allowed.¡±


    ¡°I know you can! I know! Please!¡± The Halfling fell to his knees, crying. Dava stood with wide eyes holding the locket in one tiny hand.


    Damien stepped forward into the house. He was careful not to touch the Halfling. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t bring her back. Just a piece of her. She wouldn¡¯t be herself. She is at peace now, relaxing within the Endless Tavern along with the rest of Nuria¡¯s devout. Would you rip her away from that?¡±


    Damien was a bit more intense than he intended with the man. It was important to stress what could happen if he tried to bring her back. It was possible but required powerful magic. Magic that most underground wizards had no business messing with. The last thing the world needed was another outbreak caused by a grieving man.


    ¡°I know the pain you must be feeling. No words can describe it. You must be strong. I only knew her for a short time, but Winnow would want that.¡± Damien took out a card from the inside of his jacket and placed it on the floor near the grieving Halfling. ¡°If you need anything. Call. If you are thinking about going to another Necro. Call. I won¡¯t bring her back to you, but I can let you speak to her. I can¡¯t stress enough what will happen to you and your daughter if you go to someone else.¡±


    The man looked at the card but did not take it. Dava made her way forward once more and wrapped her arms around her father. Damien smiled to the young Halfling before turning and making his way down the steps. Fred was still waiting at the bottom of the stoop.


    ¡°Bargaining is a good sign. He¡¯s on his way to acceptance,¡± Fred said as they made their way down the street. Fred dodged the spirit of a soldier with a ghastly series of burns along his face.


    Damien closed his eyes and breathed deeply. When he opened his eyes again the dead disappeared. All except Fred. Damien looked up at the three moons drifting high above Fenwrath. Hitsos, Luna, and Chaotis. Luna shown brightest in the sky. Damien was not particularly religious, but something about this encounter made him want to be. He sent a quiet prayer to Solfis, Goddess of Magic and the Hunt and hoped she was proud tonight.


    His thoughts were broken by a soft buzzing on his left wrist. He tapped the pink Void Rock crystal on its leather band and a flat display flicked up, hovering above the gemstone, and illuminating his face. Damien read the text on the display.


    ¡°We have to go, Fred. It seems a couple of bodies have been found on the lower east side.¡±


    Fred looked one last time at the hearth on the deep oak door, ¡°Right behind you, boss.¡±

 Chapter Three - Damien

    Fred let out a sharp whistle as they approached the Void station on the lower east side of Windcrest to a dazzling display of blue and red lights. ¡°They really called in everyone for this one, eh? I wonder who got snuffed. Seems important,¡± he said.


    Damien shrugged and pulled his credentials from beneath his jacket. Probably better for him not to reply to the invisible spirit at his side, he thought. As he approached through a small group of onlookers, one of the patrol officers Damien recognized as Edgar put his hand up. Edgar was a thickset human with a widow¡¯s peak creeping in from the sides of his blonde hair. He wore the typical blue uniform of a patrol officer for the Windcrest Police Department. Damien paused for a moment inspecting the scene. Pumps lined the front of the fuel station designed to pull blue Void Rock in its liquified form from a nearby supply station. This part of the city was frequented by the less reputable members of Windcrestian society. If it was not for the throngs of people milling about, Damien would have thought this place had been abandoned. Patrol officers interrogated civilians throughout the area with crime scene investigators forming a hoard around what Damien could make out as two bodies lying on the pavement.


    Edgar inspected the credentials hanging from Damien''s neck before flipping them over and inspecting the back. Fred continued forward drifting lazily toward the bodies.


    "Really Ed? You''re playing this game?" Damien said. Edgar grinned before holding the police tape up to let Damien through.


    "Best part of my night is keeping the riffraff in line."


    "Aw you think I''m riffraff?" Damien said as he crouched and moved under the tape. ¡°Always considered myself more of a rabble-rouser. Possibly a ruffian. Definitely a hooligan."


    "Ha. Ha. Detective Morchon is in rare form tonight. I would avoid the sarcasm."


    Damien put his hand over his heart and gave his most sincere face before turning and catching up to Fred. Together they wound through the investigators. It was amazing how efficient the WPD could be when there was a murder to examine. The whole scene was like a beehive with sections built out for each phase of the investigation. Patrol officers taking statements, some nodded to Damien as he passed while others gave him a wide berth. Crime scene investigators moved their hands about mimicking the motions of picking up and bagging evidence as summoned spectral hands did all the work. Numerous colors bathed the surrounding area originating from inspectors holding out various intricate glyph patterns. Most searching for traces of blood or artifacts from the victims. In the center of it all, Damien found the two corpses.


    One looked to be a slightly older, overweight male tiefling with a knife sticking from his chest. Next to him was a younger female tiefling maybe in her mid-20¡¯s with several burn wounds across her chest. The clothing had been burned away from those sections. These were the typical laser burns caused by most green Void Rock weapons. Both tieflings had the same style of horns that drifted up and curled around the sides of their heads like a crown. Starting at the base of their heads they were a light orange that faded to white at the tips. The tieflings were related. Probably father and daughter.


    ¡°Shameful, taking someone so young from this world,¡± Fred mused as he looked over the bodies. He nodded to the center of the group, ¡°Your girl is here.¡±


    Damien looked up to see Edi crouching over the female tiefling. Edi pushed her short light brown hair out of her eyes with the back of her gloved hand and leaned closer to the wounds on the young tiefling¡¯s chest. She placed her notepad on the ground and began to weave her hands together and a deep green glyph appeared in front of her. Damien could feel the energy building in the air. With a satisfying pop she lowered her hands and the glyph toward the young tiefling, and a light green mist coalesced over the corpse. Slowly it solidified into a perfect see-through recreation of the inside of the tiefling¡¯s body. Edi began vigorously scribbling notes. Anyone else would have taken notes with their Void Rock bracer, but she preferred less magi-tech. She glanced up at him and gave a curt wave with her pen, smiling. Her golden eyes shined in the fuel station¡¯s bobbing lights. Even in a grey shirt, brown leather jacket, and denim jeans surrounded by corpses Edellya Sarran could look elegant. A longing washed through his chest. He just wanted to go toward her and give her a hug. This had to be rough on her though she would never show it. Damien waved back and Edi widened her eyes and made a face as if to say it had been an exceptionally long night toward Detective Morchon. Damien returned the gesture.


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    Fred noticed Edi¡¯s nod and whirled up to the tall Orcish detective. Detective Leopold Morchon was a mountain of muscle forced into a pristine grey suit that contrasted with the light green of his skin. He had large tusks protruding from his bottom teeth that curved into his upper lip. As he spoke it came out in a low rumble with the pompous inflections of the northern regions of Fenwrath. Fred placed an ethereal hand on Morchon¡¯s shoulder. The detective visibly shivered directing his attention toward Damien.


    ¡°Welcome Necro. Glad you finally got the time to come by our humble little crime scene,¡± Morchon said. ¡°Rookie, take note. The necro arrived at 0346 approximately one hour after all the rest of us were here working, waiting on him.¡± Morchon snapped his meaty fingers at a light blue skinned tiefling woman that had been staring directly into the still open eyes of the murdered woman on the ground. She wore a well fitted pantsuit of a deep black. The horns on her head, starting with an icy blue and ending in tips of light grey, curved up and back through her black hair. Tiefling eyes were almost always solid and pupilless and the rookie¡¯s eyes were no different. Even though she was young her eyes burned with a deep ice blue that promised a thousand years of torture. The children of Chernobog indeed.


    ¡°Sorry Leo,¡± Damien replied with a flourish of his hand, ¡°I was on the other side of the city doing more of your job when I got the call.¡± Damien smirked knowing Morchon was too formal to ever enjoy being called anything other than Head Detective Leopold Morchon. He could feel the hateful glare that followed as he squatted closer to the female tiefling across from Edi.


    ¡°You really shouldn¡¯t poke the bear,¡± she whispered. Never-the-less she smiled over at him.


    Stunning, Damien thought.


    ¡°I am so glad we can all smile in the face of death,¡± Morchon said, ¡°Especially with wolves about.¡± Edi immediately lowered her gaze toward the body, dropping the smile and continuing to take notes. Damien narrowed his eyes at her and then flicked them up at Morchon letting energy rush through his feet and flare out of his eyes. Morchon stepped back at the sudden flash of purple necromantic energy. The rookie let out a sharp gasp. Edi unconsciously touched the sapphire gemstone dangling from the thin leather collar around her neck. Damien closed his eyes and breathed slowly.


    ¡°I can kill him if you want,¡± Fred said shrugging. Damien glared up at him. ¡°What? I could. Noone would find the body.¡±


    ¡°Tell me what we have,¡± Damien said drawing his attention back to the bodies on the ground. Morchon returned to his professional demeanor.


    ¡°Two bodies out here. Two more in the bathroom. No signs of robbery. Based on what we gathered from the other witnesses it looks like this guy attacked a man in the bathroom and the other three were just bystanders that kept getting too nosy for their own good. The younger one managed to get a shot off wounding him before he ran in that direction jumping the fence and fleeing. He took her pistol with him.¡± Morchon gestured past the bathroom and toward the yards beyond. Damien could make out several other investigators gathering blood samples from the fence.


    ¡°Four bodies.¡± Damien shook his head. ¡°These two look too fresh for me to get anything useful.¡± He was lying of course. It was better to keep the powers of necromancy vague for the general public. He stood and squeezed Edi¡¯s shoulder as he passed. Fred was still looming over Detective Morchon. He moved up to the young tiefling detective who was now staring wide eyed at him. ¡°Rookie? Was it?¡±


    ¡°Uh...uh...¡± She cleared her throat, ¡°No. My name is Detective Satish Inihiri.¡± She set her shoulders and held out a hand for Damien to shake. He took her hand slowly and chuckled at the formality. Only a rookie would willingly shake a Necro¡¯s hand. Everyone else is too afraid of catching a virus.


    ¡°Alright Satish. Show me the other bodies.¡±

 Chapter Four - Damien

    Damien followed behind Satish as she led him though the scene and over to the bathroom. As they got close, he caught the scent of blood on the wind. Fred shivered as they approached. Impressive. Whatever this guy did he made a ghost shiver.


    Damien approached the doorway. Inside was exactly what he expected of a dingy fuel station restroom on this side of the city. A sink hung on the left wall with a dirty mirror above it. On the left was a toilet that looked as though it were cleaned sometime around the Third Era and never again since. The scent of blood was made apparent when Damien saw the bodies. One was an old Dwarvish woman with a thick nose and sagging features. She didn¡¯t have any silver rings in her hair marked for children but had two iron rings that denoted two separate marriages. She was incredibly old with four copper rings, one for every 50 years of life, down one long braid on the side of her head. Her face was locked in a silent scream of terror. From what Damien could make out it looked as though her throat was slit, which explained the thick spatters of blood across the walls of the restroom. The other body was slumped against the wall underneath the Dwarvish woman. It was a human man probably in his mid-30¡¯s. His hair was light. Almost a sunny tan color kept out of his eyes by some thick paste. The man¡¯s cause of death seemed to be similar to the Dwarvish women. Knife wounds.


    ¡°Satish, is this how they were found?¡± Damien said. He looked around and didn¡¯t see the tiefling woman. He heard hacking coming from just around the back of the fuel station. ¡°Satish?¡±


    Damien let out a sigh as Fred drifted past around the corner. Damien followed and came around the building just as Satish slumped against the wall.


    ¡°Looks like it might be her first set of dead bodies,¡± Fred chuckled, ¡°She lasted longer than most people I¡¯ll give her that.¡±


    ¡°Not everyone is as used to death as we are,¡± Damien pulled a soft cloth from within his inner jacket pocket and handed it toward her. Satish took it wiping her mouth and looked around confused. The only thing she could see was the fence on one side of the alley and the building she leaned against on the other side. The closest people were the CSI team still gathering blood from the fence.


    ¡°Who are you talking to?¡± she said.


    ¡°His name is Fred,¡± Damien replied. With a surge of power, he manifested the ghost. A portion of Damien¡¯s power went into Fred causing his body and clothing to become more vibrant as it drifted into the Prime from the Ethereal plane. Satish jumped back dropping the cloth and reaching for the gun holstered on her hip.


    ¡°That isn¡¯t going to do anything, sweetheart,¡± Fred smirked raising his hands, ¡°but you are more than welcome to try if it makes you feel better.¡±


    Satish cursed in Fiendish, removing her hand from her gun and picking up the cloth. She handed it out toward Damien, ¡°Detective Morchon told me you Necros liked to play tricks.¡±


    ¡°No. That is yours now,¡± Damien said gesturing to the cloth, ¡°and Fred is not a trick. He¡¯s just dead, but he means well.¡±


    Satish looked back to Fred and her eyes flicked to his wrists. Now that he was manifested into the Prime, they were soaked and dripping with crimson. Her eyes softened, ¡°Oh¡­oh no.¡±


    Fred lowered his hands quickly, ¡°Doesn¡¯t hurt anymore.¡±


    As if sensing how uncomfortable he was, Satish pointed to Fred¡¯s shirt, ¡°I like the Pixies, even if they took their sound from Daemon Grin.¡±


    ¡°The Pixies¡­... Daemon Grin¡­. Took their sound?!¡± Fred stammered through his words, ¡°Why you little¡­¡± Fred let out a series of curses in the flowing speech of the Elves that ended with something that loosely translated to ¡®You can wipe a hog¡¯s ass with that¡¯ in the common language. He folded his arms around his chest and became extremely interested in the nearby trash piles.


    Satish raised her hands and responded in Elvish, ¡°Sorry I did not mean to offend you.¡± Even with fangs she spoke the language well.


    Damien leaned closer to Satish, ¡°It was his band.¡±


    ¡°Wait,¡± Satish looked from Fred to Damien, ¡°You¡¯re Fre¡¯Davish Castinoregula? The drummer? I thought you¡­.¡± Her eyes flicked back to Fred¡¯s wrists, and she nodded as if something she had been working out for a while suddenly made sense. ¡°You just keep him like a pet? Serving you?¡± Satish said.


    ¡°We should get back, murders to investigate and whatnot,¡± Fred said. Damien pulled the manifested energy back into himself causing Fred to fade back into the Ethereal. ¡°The chortling of those devil¡¯s wishes it sounded as good as the Pixies,¡± Fred affirmed once he was back behind the veil.


    ¡°He volunteered,¡± Damien said. He was used to this type of judgement. History portrayed necromancers as evildoers who dug up loved ones and forced them to kill for no reason. Admittedly with good reason. Damien changed the subject, ¡°Were the bodies found like that? Piled in the corner I mean?¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­yeah,¡± she said steadying herself again, ¡°The fuel station¡¯s manager found them shortly after the shooting occurred.¡±


    ¡°So strange,¡± Damien said in thought.


    ¡°I am going to ask you why that is strange, and you are going to let us know why it¡¯s strange, right?¡± Fred said.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Satish said.


    Damien moved back toward the restroom with Fred and Satish following. ¡°I just don¡¯t see any sort of reasoning behind the killings. Even the first man seems entirely random.¡± Damien pointed to the bodies in the corner. Satish held the cloth up to her mouth and gagged a bit. Damien moved into the restroom gingerly stepping to avoid the blood that had pooled near the center. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Hopefully, I will know more when I speak with them.¡±


    ¡°Ok. You do your thing. I am going to go back over here for a moment,¡± Satish said as she scurried back to the side of the building. Damien shook his head and sat on the ground. He took care to avoid the blood on the floor and placed his back against a relatively clean portion of the wall.


    ¡°It¡¯s actually surprising,¡± Fred said, ¡°I don¡¯t see any deadies wandering around here. It¡¯s like they just stopped a couple of blocks back. You sure you will even be able to summon one of these guys back?¡±


    ¡°Hopefully. Otherwise, dear old Leo out there will have even more of a reason to dislike me,¡± Damien said. The restroom illuminated with a vibrant purple light as he summoned energy up into his hands. He twirled the energy into a circular glyph. Damien closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. When Damien breathed out, the glyph solidified in the air. As Damien opened his eyes they glowed a light blue. He stood up in the restroom and looked down toward where his body slumped against the dirty wall. His head had slid down along the wall and some of the Dwarvish woman¡¯s blood was smeared into it.


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    ¡°Aw man,¡± Damien protested, ¡°Every time.¡±


    Fred laughed, ¡°Welcome to the other side.¡± He held a massive fist forward and Damien slammed his own against it. Fred mimicked an explosion with his mouth before dragging his hand away. This caused Damien to chuckle. Fred enjoyed human contact. It had to be rough for someone like him to be unable to interact with the world and to live in such a subdued place as the Ethereal.


    The Ethereal acted as a veil over the Prime Material Plane. This place was where the restless dead lived. Those that did not or could not move on to Limbo and then be ferried to where they would rest for eternity. Everything seemed the same but dull here. The color from the glyph patterns the inspectors used were muted. The voices from the Prime Material drifted, muffled, through the landscape. Damien had become familiar with the cold feeling that washed through him while here. The feeling kept him on edge as if he were constantly being watched by something he could not see.


    Damien inspected the two corpses in the corner. Nothing stood out to him in the Ethereal. He focused energy through his feet up into his hands and drew an intricate glyph pattern in the air. The Ethereal made summoning the necromantic magic much easier and Damien had to fight not to force too much through the glyph. Breathing out slowly he forced the glyph pattern out toward the two corpses, and it turned to mist on contact with their skin. The mist slowly dissipated and¡­¡­nothing happened. Normally fresh spirits could be pulled back to their corpses where Damien could speak with them. Damien let out a heavy sigh.


    ¡°We took too long. I think they already moved on. Old Leo is going to have to get someone else to call them back from Limbo or wherever they ended up if he wants to question them,¡± Damien said.


    ¡°We? Looks like he is going to have more of a reason to dislike you,¡± Fred smirked.


    Damien made his way out of the restroom and looked around the immediate area for any sign of ghosts. He thought for sure any one of these four would be restless. Their deaths were exactly the type of force that would drive one to become a Wanderer.


    As if sensing his thoughts Fred said, ¡°I told you. The deadies stopped a couple of blocks back. I¡¯m not sure what they don¡¯t like about this place. But I have had an uneasy feeling sense we got here. It makes me want to run.¡±


    ¡°I feel it too,¡± Damien said. He made his way toward the two tieflings near where Edi stood. As if sensing his presence in the Ethereal she looked toward where he stood, but did not see him. He attempted to summon the same glyph pattern he used on the two corpses in the restroom and as the mist faded once more there was still no sign of any spirits in the nearby. ¡°This doesn¡¯t make any sense!¡± Damien said, ¡°These two aren¡¯t old enough to have found their way to Limbo.¡±


    ¡°Check this out,¡± Fred motioned to something dark splattered on the ground near the bodies.


    As Damien approached, he noticed that it looked like blood. Possibly the blood of the killer where he had been wounded. However, in the light of the Ethereal the blood seemed to have tendrils of smoke rising up from it. Damien knelt next to the blood and watched the wisps of eerie smoke drift up and disappear into the air a couple of inches from the small spatters.


    ¡°That¡¯s odd. Essence in the blood.¡± Fred mused, ¡°Are we thinking necromancer? I don¡¯t know of anything else that causes corruption like that.¡±


    ¡°Possession maybe,¡± Damien said, ¡°and let¡¯s hope not. A rogue Necro is the last thing we need to deal with.¡± He slowly followed the blood, and the trail indeed led to the fence where the other inspectors worked just as Detective Morchon stated. Damien drifted through the fence and ended up in the backyard of a small two-story residence. He continued on the trail following the blood all the way around the side of the house, through the gated fence and out into the street beyond. From there the blood seemed to disappear. The street was quiet in the early morning for the living and even quieter in the Ethereal. How bizarre, Damien thought.


    Both Damien and Fred made their way back to the fuel station lost in thought. Damien would need to request samples of the blood for some testing of his own. Corruption in the blood was a sign of some dark magic at work. Essence is a substance found in the Ethereal. Typically, it is harvested from the left-over remnants of a spirit that had been manifested to the point of overload. This would destroy the spirit and cause some considerable damage to anyone in the vicinity. There were no scorch marks here in the Ethereal. So, no one had been exploded, Damien thought. The corruption was in the blood of the killer which would happen if a caster was channeling a heavy amount of necromantic energy. That suggested a Necro was murdering people.


    ¡°If this is a Necro, why would they use a knife? That doesn¡¯t make sense.¡± Damien snapped his fingers, and a small purple flame sparked to life, hovering above his palm. ¡°This is easier and less messy.¡±


    ¡°For you. You have been doing this for a while now. A new Necro wouldn¡¯t have that level of control,¡± Fred replied.


    ¡°Which means they wouldn¡¯t be able to channel the amount of energy that it would take to cause corruption in their blood.¡±


    ¡°So, a vengeful spirit? That could cause the left-over essence.¡±


    ¡°No, the killings are random. Wrong place wrong time. None of this makes sense!¡± Damien let out a curse.


    ¡°Either way you know this means we have to inform the O.S.A. right?¡± Fred said.


    ¡°I know,¡± Damien grumbled. Dealing with O.S.A. and all of their regulations was frequently akin to pulling teeth. ¡°I just don¡¯t want to get them spun up for nothing if we are wrong. Let¡¯s take a day or two. Let me run some tests.¡±


    ¡°Sounds like a good plan. In the meantime, I think our date is getting restless,¡± Fred gestured over to Detective Morchon who was pacing back and forth near the bodies and looking to his bracer for the time. With a quick twist on his heels, he turned and began stampeding toward the restroom with the other two bodies.


    Damien also made his way in that direction. He moved up to the restroom entryway and looked inside to see Satish squatting near his body. Damien reached a hand up and squeezed Fred on the shoulder. ¡°I¡¯ll see you on the other side.¡± With a deep breath Damien focused his magic into another circular glyph and sucked in a deep breath to seal the energy.


    With a deep gasp he sucked in air feeling the frosty night air once more. He shot upright and grabbed his chest. The sudden motion caused Satish to shout and fall backwards. With a wet splat she landed in the puddle of blood in the center of the room. All of this happened just in time for Detective Morchon to move around the door and look over the scene. Several other people shouted outside and began to crowd around Morchon in the doorway trying to figure out what the shouting was about.


    Damien stood with a bounce and looked toward Satish. ¡°Oh Satish. I¡¯m sorry. Sometimes returning is a bit of a process.¡± He held his hands down to her. She took them and he pulled her to her feet. She attempted to wipe the blood from her backside and her hands came away with red smeared on them.


    ¡°Rookie! Stop rolling around in the evidence and get yourself clean!¡± Morchon boomed.


    Satish quickly rushed for the door. Morchon shifting his mass backward and forcing the others out of the way. She stopped once outside and suddenly dry-heaved. Luckily, there was nothing left in her stomach for her to expel.


    A couple of patrol officers came and helped get Satish settled. They had a series of blankets and made an effort to clean up her skirt to no avail. Damien made his way to where Edi stood and waited for Morchon to approach. He then explained what he and Fred had seen while in the Ethereal.


    ¡°The strangest part is that there are no ghosts around. Not even the usual suspects,¡± Damien finished.


    ¡°You think it was a Necro?¡± Morchon asked, his eyes discerning.


    ¡°I can¡¯t confirm that right now. Only that there was essence in the blood. Potentially essence. I need a sample of that to take back to O.S.A. to confirm,¡± Damien replied.


    ¡°Not so quick to sell out one of you own I see. Never-the-less we should keep that to ourselves for the time being. We don¡¯t need the public up in an uproar,¡± Morchon turned to Edi, ¡°I expect your report on my desk in the morning.¡± With that he turned and began to bark orders at everyone to close down the scene.


    Damien turned to Edi, and she looked at the blood smeared in his hair, ¡°Gods you¡¯re a mess.¡± She led him to her own Void Rock car and tapped her bracer. With a sudden vibration of magic, the car hummed to life and began to float gently off the ground. She opened the door and reached in, returning several moments later with a series of napkins and a bottle of water. She began to clean the blood out of his hair and Damien just watched. For a moment he let her just take care of him.


    ¡°We should head home,¡± he said.


    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s been a long night. I can get up early and take the paperwork over to Morchon.¡± She balled up the napkins and took them over to an inspector to dispose of them. Then made her way back to the car and got in the driver¡¯s seat. Before Damien climbed in the car he looked back toward the fuel station. He realized he still had the cold feeling. The same one that he had in the Ethereal that made him feel as though he were being watched.

 Chapter Five - Damien

    Damien unlocked the door and Edi pushed into their apartment. Before the door closed, Edi wrapped her arms around Damien¡¯s neck and pulled him down into a deep kiss. Damien could smell the sweet scent of lavender and vanilla on her skin. He drank in her warmth and buried his face into her neck calming and just existing.


    ¡°You should rest. You look absolutely dreadful.¡± Edi stroked his shaggy hair, ¡°You should get a haircut. You always feel better afterward.¡± She pulled away and walked over to the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a short loaf of bread and a jar of raspberry jam. Damien leaned on the counter as Fred made his way farther into the apartment. The apartment was humble. One room off to the left led into their bedroom and across the combined living room slash kitchen was a bathroom. Fred drifted through the couch and over to the window. The window showed a view out into the city beyond. From this high up you could almost see the crime scene in the distance.


    ¡°Thanks Edi. You make me feel wonderful about myself.¡±


    ¡°I am just being honest,¡± She replied grabbing the peanut butter from a cabinet and a plate from the rack beside the sink. She deftly sliced the bread and using the same knife globed on some of the jam and peanut butter before setting the whole concoction in front of Damien. She then proceeded to make herself one.


    ¡°I¡¯m not hungry, my love. Fred is here.¡±


    ¡°I know he is. Send him away and eat.¡± She said, thrusting the bread knife toward the sandwich she made for him.


    ¡°We should look more into this murder. This guy killed four people and is still out there.¡± Edi took a big bite of her own sandwich and walked over to Damien¡¯s plate. She picked it up and waved it in front of his face.


    ¡°Eat.¡± The word came out muffled from her full mouth. She swallowed. ¡°We can focus on the case later today. You are going to eat and get some rest.¡±


    Damien relented picking up the sandwich and forcing down a bite. The jam and peanut butter tasted like ash in his mouth. Everything did when he was bonded to a spirit. He did not need to eat, drink, or sleep. Everything around him seemed to lose a bit of luster. He didn¡¯t let Edi know this. She knew the basics. It had become obvious in the beginning of their relationship when he would be up all night and day and night again with no rest. She never needed to know the dull feeling. The dead feeling that radiated from where his heart should be.


    Edi finished her sandwich in record time. Fred made his way around to the kitchen, careful to avoid where Edi stood in the living room looking out the window. Damien managed another bite of the sandwich before setting it back on the plate.


    ¡°She is right you know. You can let me go out for the night. I can work on gathering some leads and I will be back in the afternoon. We could re-bond then,¡± Fred said.


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    ¡°I know.¡± The truth was Damien enjoyed this empty feeling. The feeling gave him focus. Without it he had to slow down, take time to eat, waste time sleeping. No that just would not work, he thought, not with a maniac running around killing innocent people. He would have to care more about everything. The world would regain that luster, and he would be trapped beneath the weight of the world again. No. This was definitely better.


    Edi made her way back to the kitchen and glanced at the half-eaten sandwich in front of Damien. Her light brown eyes locked with him in a disapproving stare. She smiled playfully at him.


    ¡°I know what will help. Come with me,¡± she said grabbing his hand and leading him to the bedroom.


    ¡°Edi, really, I should focus on work. Fred is still here,¡± Damien protested but he followed none the less. She pushed open the bedroom door and pulled Damien on top of her down on the bed. Early morning light was already flooding through the room. She kissed him passionately, losing herself in him for a moment. Damien let her lead, feeling the warmth of her body beneath him. It was easy to remember why he hunted villains and serial killers. The world needed to be a safer place for Edi.


    The moment was ruined a brief time later as Fred floated through the wall. ¡°Oooooh heating up in here, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    Damien sighed and buried his face in the blanket beside Edi¡¯s head.


    ¡°What is it? Fred? Tell him he can¡¯t watch.¡± Edi smirked. ¡°Let him go out.¡±


    Damien conceded. He raised up focusing energy up through his body. He raised a hand toward Fred, forcing the current of energy out through the tips of his fingers. Fred manifested. Damien watched as color returned to his form. Fred¡¯s mohawk took on a multi-colored sheen. His shirt regained color, the faded ethereal blue becoming deep black. The blood consistently dripping from his wrists regained its deep crimson. Damien fell to the side onto the bed, exhaustion filling his body.


    ¡°Hi Freddie,¡± Edi said.


    ¡°Hello Edi.¡±


    ¡°Bye Freddie.¡±


    ¡°Bye Edi.¡±


    Fred walked out of the room, this time taking the door. As he reached the door he stopped, slowly reaching for the door handle. He smiled as his hand made contact with the handle.


    ¡°Have fun you two.¡± Fred saluted before slamming the door a bit too hard.


    A brief moment later came the sound of the apartment door opening and then slamming shut.


    Edi had never been afraid of any of the spirits Damien had shown her. Last of all Fred. Edi gently climbed up on top of Damien. He opened his eyes to see her leaning down to kiss his lips. The familiar warmth washed through his body. This time unabated by the dull feeling that kept it contained. His exhaustion was still at the forefront of his mind. Edi noticed his hesitation as she leaned back up keeping her hands on his chest.


    ¡°I think you need some sleep,¡± she said, ¡°and I know just the thing to help.¡± She pulled her shirt over her head smiling down at Damien again.


    ¡°Edi¡­.¡± Damien started in a half-hearted protest. She pulled his hands up to her hips and leaned down to kiss him once more.


    ¡°Let me take care of you tonight,¡± She whispered. She reached down and began undoing his pants, fighting with the belt for a moment. Damien grabbed her and rolled her down on the bed causing her to yelp and let out a giggle. He took his shirt off and felt her warm hands trace a route over the numerous scars across his chest and stomach. He bent down and began kissing her once more. This time more demanding. She raked her nails down his back, and he allowed himself to be pulled into her affection.

 Chapter Six - Fred

    The apartment door slammed with a satisfying crack. Fred smiled to himself and began a bouncy walk toward the elevators.


    ¡°What is all that noise?!¡± The voice belonged to Mr. Jacinto, a grouchy older gnome that lived two doors down from Damien.


    ¡°Sorry Mr. J,¡± Fred said. He lifted a hand to wave and Mr. J¡¯s face contorted with disgust. It was easy to forget that everyone could see him. All of him. He quickly buried his hands under his arms. ¡°It¡¯s nothing Mr. J just spilled some¡ª"


    Mr. J grumbled a few curses in Gnomish before closing his door.


    ¡°Smooth, Fred. Real smooth,¡± he muttered to himself as he turned toward the elevators.


    He approached and tapped the button for down. While waiting he realized how convenient it was to just be able to fly through the walls. He placed his hand on the elevator door and felt the cold of the metal. He could be inconvenienced by the elevator if it meant he got to be solid again. Alive again. The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. He stepped in and hit the button for the lobby. Before the doors could close, he put his arm out in front of himself. Fred smiled as the doors clamped slightly on his arm and then opened back up.


    The elevator hit the lobby, and as the doors slid open Fred was immediately greeted by the sight of a dead woman.


    ¡°Gods!¡± Fred exclaimed as he stumbled back into the elevator. The spectral woman giggled to herself. Fred righted himself and moved out of the elevator as the woman floated through the lobby. Fred shook his fist at her, ¡°I told you to move on somewhere else Florence! This place is haunted enough without you!¡±


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t be so serious Fre¡¯Davish,¡± Florence responded, ¡°It is all in good fun.¡± The Elvish woman was a regular in the building. Fred could tell by the long flowing gown she wore that she had passed sometime in the Fourth Era when the style was common. Her neck was cut straight across, blood dribbled out of the wound and had stained the front of her gown.


    He looked from the lifeless woman to the concierge sitting stunned behind the desk. Fred cleared his throat and straightened his jacket. ¡°Morning,¡± he said tipping an imaginary hat at the young human.


    He made his way out of the lobby and into the streets of Windcrest. The city was quiet in the early morning. Most of the living would still be asleep. Fred unfortunately had the pleasure of walking through crowds of Wanderers. The country of Fenwrath had an incredibly violent history and its capital, Windcrest, was no exception. Fred pulled his jacket tighter around himself to fight the early Fall chill. It would be another week or two before the first snow came. If he could have predicted that he would end up bound to a necromancer in a northern city, he would have died in something warmer.


    Fred dodged a flock of particularly grotesque looking orcs. One of which had a three-pronged claw hook stabbed through her neck. The orcish woman groaned and her head rolled in Fred¡¯s direction.


    ¡°Gross. No.¡± Fred shooed her away and continued winding through the crowd.


    The sun was rising by the time Fred made his way down a series of stairs toward an underground club known as The Coffin. The club was located in the religious ward on the southern side of Windcrest. This was one of the oldest parts of the city dating back nearly a thousand years to the end of the Cataclysm in the Third Era. Every religion was represented in some way, even the Dark Ones. The largest of the temples in this ward were dedicated to Celeste and Rune, the Prime Light Deities.


    The door at the base of the stairs was crafted from heavy wrought iron and covered in salt. Fred watched as several runes carved into the door flared a vibrant blue green. He stepped closer and banged on the door. The door was hot to the touch and his hand sizzled as he pulled it back. He watched as the salt ate away at the side of his hand. It didn¡¯t hurt too badly, and the skin would come back eventually.


    A slide in the door opened and a pair of massive pale grey eyes ringed in the purple that signified Barasc¡¯s influence stared out at him through the gap.


    ¡°Security is getting pretty crazy in this place, eh?¡± Fred said holding up his sizzling hand.


    The creature on the other side of the door grunted and Fred heard several latches shifting. As the door opened, he was immediately accosted by the scent of decay. The creature on the other side of the door was a massive ogre. The ogre¡¯s skin looked as though it were sloughing off in sections. Fred could make out several long cuts across the ogre¡¯s chest and back as he walked past. Those wounds would have been fatal, but they no longer leaked blood.


    Stretching in front of him was a long hallway that led downward farther underground into darkness. Fred moved down the long tunnel for a few minutes before it leveled out and opened into an extensive subway system. Floating lanterns hovered high overhead near the top of the tunnel system casting an orange, white light over everything. Several of the subway trains had been moved to block the tunnels on either side of the huge cavern. Walkways crisscrossed the tracks all over the place leading farther into the room. A lot of these tunnels exist beneath the city, most of them abandoned over safety concerns with the Void Rock used to propel the trains. Magically launching 61 tons of steel through a series of tunnels turned into a bad idea very quickly. Over time the trains became safer, but the early models were left abandoned. This made it easy for those who did not want to be spotted to move through the city without issue. Or in this case if you had a whole bunch of undead that did not want to face the Fallen One¡¯s verdict.


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    The Coffin was a place where the living challenged could go share a drink and information. Wandering vampires could rest their heads here during the daylight hours. Wraiths and revenants could relax and discuss who next would face their judgement. The Coffin catered to each and every one of their special appetites. It was located in the center of the subway tunnel with a series of shanty shacks built in a semi-circle. Most of the shacks had open faces with people attempting to sell wears ¡°acquired¡± from above ground.


    Fred made his way to the main bar near the center past a small group of ghosts still faded and ethereal looming in one of the abandoned subway cars. A man hunched at a table nearby had what looked like a delicious cocktail of deep crimson.


    ¡°Fred! Wasn¡¯t expectin you anytime soon! I didn¡¯t think your master would take the chains off,¡± the voice belonged to one of the bartenders, Samiel, leaning against the bar. He worked the day shift. In life he had been a portly dark-skinned human from Sandstone, a city in eastern Fenwrath. Following his death and resurrection he was a portly dark-skinned ghoul. His skin sagged around the face and his black irises were wringed in the vibrant purple. During drinks one lonesome night Fred asked Samiel how he came to be a member of the less-than-living. He had responded with a solemn expression, ¡°Got in some debt with the wrong person and served my time.¡± Fred had let the matter drop after that.


    ¡°Always good to see you, Sam! I didn¡¯t think you could still talk with all that rot in your brain,¡± Fred smirked.


    ¡°Bah!¡± Sam shifted down behind the bar and pulled out a short black bottle. Inside sloshed a chestnut brown colored liquid that pulsed a light blue. As Samiel uncorked the bottle a heavy mist rose from the opening. He took out a small glass and filled it to the brim with deft precision, then placed it in front of where Fred was standing.


    ¡°What the hell is this?¡± Fred said. He picked up the glass and watched as the mist floated up and over the rim. As it touched his fingers a chill ran down his spine. The mist dissipated before hitting the bar top.


    ¡°It¡¯s my own special blend. Go on! Try it!¡±


    Fred threw back the shot in one fluid movement. The burn he felt was immediate as the liquid hit the back of his throat. He began to cough violently.


    After about a minute of coughing Fred recovered, ¡°Gods Sam! What the hell is that stuff?¡±


    ¡°Pocketed some essence off a Necro passing through last week. Mixed it with a barrel of 160 proof Seven Brothers whiskey. It¡¯s got some kick, don¡¯t it?!¡± Sam beamed.


    Fred coughed again. Essence? A Necro? There was no way this would be that easy, he thought. ¡°Who was the Necro? Someone we know?¡±


    ¡°Nah can¡¯t say I seen her here before. Pretty little thing though. Light hair. Dark eyes. Lacey dress. You know the type. Fell in love with death or seen a bit too much of it,¡± Sam replied. He poured another shot of the essence mixed whiskey and slid it over to Fred.


    Fred lifted the shot to the floating lights and watched as the essence-mixed whiskey swirled together. A light-haired necromancer traveling around selling essence in the underground. That shouldn¡¯t be too hard to find, Fred thought. Maybe Damien knows her. He tapped the glass on the bar top and held it up to Sam before shooting it back. The liquid landed on his tongue and this time he tried to savor it.


    He immediately hacked sending the liquid spraying across the bar. The vampire nearby snapped his head toward Fred its eyes had gone solid black, and its mouth had contorted into a thick maw of blood covered fangs. He gave the vampire an apologetic wave of his hand.


    ¡°Maybe it could use a little work,¡± Sam said as he grabbed a towel from behind the bar.


    ¡°Sorry,¡± Fred rubbed his sleeve across the bar top, wiping away some of the whiskey, ¡°I am actually looking for someone messing with around with Essence. May be involved with a couple of murders that happened tonight.¡±


    ¡°You think this woman might be the one?¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t know yet, but it would be nice to talk to her. Did she leave a card or something?¡±


    Sam stopped cleaning and narrowed his eyes across the bar to Fred.


    ¡°We?¡± he said, tossing the rag on the bar and grabbing a bottle of Seven Brothers vodka from beneath the bar. He poured another shot for Fred. ¡°Seems like quite the arrangement you got. Last time I checked it was just you down here snoopin for leads. Doin all the work.¡±


    ¡°I know how you feel about it, Sam. I¡¯m not here for a lecture,¡± Fred said as he picked up the shot and Sam went back to cleaning the bar. Something hit Fred in the back and caused him to stumble into the bar and spill the drink in his hand.


    ¡°HEY! Take that shit somewhere else!¡± Sam yelled. Fred turned around to see three ghosts floating behind him. All three were human. Each looked to be the product of a violent death. The two in the back looked like they could be related. Both wide noses and heavy burns across their faces. Most of their hair and clothes were burned away. Fred could smell smoke in the air. The one that had slammed into his back seemed to be their leader. He was a muscular looking man with blood running down his face and over his right eye from what looked like a heavy split in his skull. He wore thick leathers missing one of the pauldrons. It looked as if it had been torn away in a fight.


    ¡°See. I told you Marina. He¡¯s a solid one,¡± the man glared at Fred and did not hide his hatred. A slow smile crossed his face.


    ¡°So strange,¡± the burned woman, Marina, hissed with a gravelly voice. She reached forward as if to touch Fred and he backed away. Her hand was severely burned.


    ¡°I would ask that you not touch me,¡± Fred replied.


    ¡°Oh, this one is serious. Let¡¯s show him. Let¡¯s show him how serious we can be,¡± the other man said.


    ¡°No. No. Slow down you two. You are supposed to savor the fear remember? It would be rude of us not to introduce ourselves before having our fun. Show him what I taught you,¡± the leader said. The other two swooped up to Fred with blazing speed, each of them grabbing him by an arm and holding him back against the bar.


    ¡°I¡¯m Marina.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m Roland.¡±


    The leader drifted up to eye level with Fred. Wrapping his hand around Fred¡¯s neck he said, ¡°And I am Tereus.¡±

 Chapter Seven - Fred

    ¡°Now that you know who we are, why don¡¯t you tell us who you are? Tereus said still holding Fred¡¯s neck, ¡°Then when we are all friends you can tell us who holds your leash.¡±


    Fred had been accosted like this a few times since entering Damien¡¯s service. Many of the spirits that managed to find some semblance of what they were before they died despised those that indebted themselves to necromancers.


    ¡°First of all, this is not how you make friends. And secondly you think I am just going to sell out the guy who holds my contract? The last thing I need is a couple of poltergeists stinking up my building,¡± Fred replied.


    ¡°Oh, would you look at that Marina, this one likes to talk,¡± Tereus squeezed his hand tighter around Fred¡¯s throat. Normally this would not be a problem for Fred. While manifested he could feel his throat closing as Tereus pressed. Fred was quite sure he couldn¡¯t die a second time but was not willing to find out. He pulled hard slamming the woman, Marina, into Tereus and freeing his left arm. Unfortunately, the other man, Roland, was much stronger and held his arm firm. Fred threw a punch into Tereus¡¯s nose, and it caved with a satisfying crunch.


    Sam took this as an opportunity to slam his fist into the side of Rolan¡¯s head, freeing Fred¡¯s right arm. Marina grabbed the bottle of Seven Brothers vodka from the bar top and cracked it across Sam¡¯s face, sending him reeling to the ground with vodka and glass sailing in every direction. All three of the ghosts stumbled back opposite Fred with Marina still holding the bottom half of the shattered bottle in her hand.


    Ethereal blood dribbled from Tereus¡¯s nose, and he snorted forcefully. The nose would heal rather quickly, but it was still satisfying to witness. In fact, this entire encounter sent a thrill through Fred. He was surprised at how good it felt to punch something.


    ¡°You little slave!¡± Tereus yelled, ¡°Hold him down! We¡¯ll send him back to his master with half his face!¡±


    Both Marina and Roland launched from the ground with uncanny speed. Appearing out of nowhere a massive hand gripped Marina by the throat and flipped her backward and down onto the ground. The hand was connected to a similarly large man that reached out and caught Roland by the ankle and sent him sailing into a series of tables in the center of the chamber. Roland sailed through the tables and righted himself in the air.


    The man whirled around on Tereus and towered nearly a head taller than him. His hair was a matted mess of tangles that draped around his head down to his shoulder. He wore the ancient clothing of a noble man from the First Era or Second Era. He had several stab wounds across his chest and back leaving the clothing soaked in blood. Tereus made the mistake of lunging at the man, and he ducked under the attack. In a practiced movement he threw his fist into Tereus¡¯s side causing him to crumple to the ground. Then he sent his foot into Tereus¡¯s chest throwing him backwards.


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    ¡°Leave,¡± the man growled, ¡°Now.¡±


    All three of the ghosts swirled away through the wall of one of the shops. Sam stood up nursing a savage cut that marred the side of his head. Viscous black blood leaked from the wound. Fred grabbed the dirty bar towel and held it up to Sam¡¯s head. The blood seeped into the towel. Unlike Fred and the other ghosts, Sam as a ghoul would not heal naturally. It would take a skilled necromancer to heal his wounds.


    Fred turned his attention to the noble man, ¡°Thanks for the assist,¡± he said holding his hand out. The man was nearly as tall as Fred was while standing in his platform shoes. The noble looked at Fred¡¯s hand but did not take it. ¡°This is a sign of respect. Normally people clasp hands to let each other know they aren¡¯t carrying any weapons. You can trust me.¡±


    The man looked at Fred¡¯s hand again and then met his eyes, ¡°Your hands could be weapons themselves,¡± he remarked.


    ¡°Right,¡± Fred pulled his hand back. The man¡¯s accent was heavily northern and throaty. Though he spoke common well. ¡°Perhaps we start with something easier. My name is Fred and that is Sam,¡± Sam waved the towel at the ghostly noble, ¡°Who are you?¡±


    The man looked down at his hands as he replied, ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t remember.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s alright. We have all been there. Sam, could you get our friend a drink, please?¡±


    ¡°A drink?¡± the man was skeptical, ¡°How could I drink?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s actually pretty simple,¡± Fred said smiling. He waved his hands in the air with a flourish. ¡°Magic.¡±


    The man did not smile. He continued to stand nearby and kept his back to the bar. It was as if he were constantly scanning the room for danger. Fred let himself relax and waited for Sam to fill two glasses with more of the Seven Brothers vodka. He picked up one of the glasses and held it out to the noble.


    ¡°Take it,¡± he said, ¡°The glass and alcohol are enchanted.¡±


    The man hesitated, then reached for the glass. His hand made contact, and he pulled it from Fred¡¯s grasp.


    ¡°How?¡± the man asked.


    ¡°Not all necromancers are terrible,¡± Fred replied, ¡°Some are enterprising young minds willing to help. In fact, I have one that might be able to help you figure out who you are.¡±


    ¡°Really Fred? You are recruiting now?¡± Sam moved to start picking up the glass scattered across the bar.


    ¡°I am being helpful. Our new friend needs assistance. Damien can¡ª¡± Fred turned back to the noble only to find the glass of vodka sitting on the bar. The man was gone. Fred looked around to all the shops in the area. ¡°Where did he go?¡±


    Sam stood from picking glass up off the ground, ¡°You ghosts move in mysterious ways. He probably went off to haunt some other bar.¡±


    ¡°Handsome though, wasn¡¯t he?¡± Fred smiled.


    Sam snorted, ¡°You have a problem.¡±


    ¡°I might, my dear barman, I might,¡± Fred turned and leaned back against the bar top. He downed the shot of vodka and slid the glass over to Sam, ¡°Tell me more about this light-haired necromancer. I have a slave driver to get back to.¡±