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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2076006-The-Necromancer
Rated: E · Fiction · Fantasy · #2076006
A young man and his sister adventure through a dying world. (Chapter 1) (Word Count: 2822)
I sit on this hill with my back against an old oak staring out across the table land at the horizon. The skeletal skyline of the once great city is blackened by the light of the setting sun. The thick cloud covered sky enhances the rich color of its dying light, flooding the waste in a deep red hue.

“What’re you doing, Warren?” Alley asks, interrupting my peaceful thoughts.

“Look.” I say directing her attention to the horizon. She stares out at the vastness quietly for a minute.

“It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah,” I agree, getting up off the ground.
I look around for a minute. There’s plenty of shelter to be found in the ruins, but it’s too far to make before dark. I turn and look off to the east. It’s just the pale, rolling hills of the waste.

“I guess I’ll be sleeping in the tree tonight.” I look up to see a crow land on one of the bare branches. “Your friend is here,” I tell Alley. She turns and looks up.

“I’m not leaving you stupid bird!” She yells. The crow caws back as if to argue with her.

“Alright,” I laugh, climbing the tree. I make my way toward the crow and shoe him away. Finding a sturdy set of branches to clasp my hammock to, I set up my sleeping arrangements. After a few minutes work I am finally able to lie down.

“So we’re going down there tomorrow?” Alley asks, appearing on the branch near my head.

“Yeah, those souls need help.”

“They’re so dangerous though!” She warns. I look back at her.

“What’re you worried about? You’re a ghost.”

“I was talking about you, jerk!” She pouts. “And you don’t have to remind me.”

“I’m sorry, Alley.” I apologize. “You still love me?”

“Only a little.” She jests. “Now go to sleep. I’ll wake you if something happens.”

I wake early in the morning soaked from the dew and shivering violently. I carefully sit up, as not to flip my hammock, and begin rubbing my arms and chest to try and warm myself. I see alley perched on the branch at my feet. She stares pitifully down at the ground.

“I tried to get your blanket for you, but I couldn’t.” She explains, not lifting her gaze.

“It’s okay.” I console, but I know it’s not going to make her feel any better.

I take a second to look at my surroundings. The waste shines with the eerie pale of the moonlight reflecting off of the sands. The clouds have become sparse revealing a vast, dark heaven mottled with a seemingly interminable number of tiny white lights.

I catch myself staring and re-purpose my search to the ground. Convinced that there is no threat I carefully climb out of the hammock, grab my bag, and climb down out of the tree.

“I don’t like this.” Alley continues to complain. “I can’t do anything!”

“Don’t be stupid. You do a lot!” I argue as I begin to strip out of my wet clothes. I feel a tingling sensation in my shoulder and turn to see Alley trying to touch me.

“Stop it.” I say sternly. Her gaze meets mine. “You can’t do that to yourself. You lived a good life, Alley, and when you’re ready to leave I will miss you greatly. Until then you are the only thing in this world that keeps me sane.” She smiles. Relieved I turn back to my bag to change.

I en-robe white cotton slacks and blouse, tucking the blouse into the waist. I carefully wrap my feet and ankles, cuffing my pants with the wrappings, and slip on my shoes. I wrap my hands and wrists, cuffing the sleeves in the same manner. I strap my holster around my right leg and hook the top straps into my waistband. I then wrap my waste tight to hold the ensemble together.

I don my repeater, sliding my right hand easily into the respective fingers on the gage. As I clench my hand into a fist, and quickly release to prevent firing. The drum closes on my wrist and, with a mechanical whining and snap, loads a dart into the chamber behind the barrel on top of my hand. Satisfied with the operation I holster the repeater.

I finish packing up my things as the morning light begins to brighten the world. Looking back to the east, the sun is hidden behind a thick brown haze covering the horizon.

“A sandstorm,” Alley observes with me.

“We’ve got a while before it gets here.” I insist.

I reach back into my bag and pull out goggles, a scarf, and a hooded cloak. I wrap the scarf around my neck, pull the goggles down onto my forehead, and don the cloak, letting the hood fall back onto my shoulders. Grabbing up my bag I begin to head down toward the city ruins.

The rolling expanse tapers to a valley, plateaus, and rises back up to the ruins. The suburbs are almost non-existent. The only signs that anything was here are the scattered remnants of wall from the old housing areas and farms, dilapidated sections of landing parks, or the corroded remains of a warped or disfigured sign or fence posts.

I make my way into the city proper in the late morning. Most of the buildings have been reduced to ceaseless knolls of concrete and twisted steel. What structures remain only stand a few stories high and most are want of the majority of their form. The tallest structures seem to be supports for the induction coils that once powered the city.

As I crest one of the hills of debris I take notice of how close the sandstorm is. I don my gear properly just minutes before a wall-like cloud of sand and wind engulfs me. Carefully I climb down into the debris and take shelter under a section of concrete wall. As I take a seat Alley appears seated next to me.

“What city is this?” She asks.

“I don’t know.” I admit, pulling the scarf down off of my face. “I didn’t ask.”

“Are you sure you can even do this?”

“I don’t know, Alley. I did it once, didn’t I?”

“How do you know they’re even down there?”

“I don’t, really.”

“Do you know what they look like?”

“You sure are full of questions this morning, aren’t you?”

I pull my canteen off of my bag, tap and blow the dust off of the cap, and open it. Taking a small drink, I swish it around in my mouth before swallowing. I put the cap back on and return the canteen to the bag.

“I just don’t understand how it works.” Alley complains.

“I don’t really know either.” I avoid. “It’s just… magic.” I smile.

“You’re such a lout.”

“Maybe, I wouldn’t know.”

“Do you know anything?” She snaps. We pause, stare at each other for a second and start laughing.

“What would I do without you, Alley?” I say, pulling the scarf back over my face.

I hunker down, waiting for the storm to pass. Even through the scarf, the dust I breathe cakes my mouth and clogs my nose. I consider taking another drink, but I don’t want to risk turning my water into mud. For what seems like forever I just sit here resting my head and forearms on my knees and listen to the increasingly deafening winds.

I am called from my torpor at the realization of the silence I have apparently been enjoying. I quickly look around my little concrete shelter. I would not be able to see anything save for the few tendrils of pale light that slip unabated through the debris. There is no one around. Not even Alley manifests herself to me. Carefully, I climb out of the debris.

“Have I really slept all day?” I ask myself, being met by yet another brilliant and cloudless night’s sky.

I take a second to stretch and move, my lower back in distress from being perched awkwardly for so long. I navigate my way down to the bottom of the pile and quickly scan my surroundings. I unstrap my bag and, setting it on the ground, commence to disrobe my foul weather gear. Quickly my thoughts wander to Alley. Where had she gone?

A chunk of rubble falls from what remains of a second story room and crashes apart on the ground to my left. Startled, my eyes dart over to the source of the sound just in time to catch a glimpse of a hand, its fingers elongated and clawed, slowly pulled back into the blackness of the shadows. I feel the fear well up inside of me.

“H-hello,” I begin to address, slowly engaging and drawing the repeater.

I move toward the noise, every slow, assiduous step hard fought in contrast to my impressive desire to run. I can hear the creature pop and rumble lowly like a dog growling at a passerby. Seeing a shift in the shadows I stop and quickly raise my repeater, aiming in its general direction.

“My name is Warren. I’m her to help.” Realizing my demeanor contradicts my words, and that my declarations sounded more like questions than statements, I lower the repeater and hold up my left hand.

I continue to advance towards where a section of the floor has fallen away, creating a trestle leading up to the room the creature occupies. Reaching the downed segment I carefully begin to climb, my eyes fixated on the dark shadows concealing the creature.

Half way up the creature crawls out to the edge of the floor revealing its horrific humanoid figure clearly in the moonlight. Its knees are bowed out, its back is arched, and its head hangs low in my direction. Its eyes are missing, the lids sunken into the sockets, and its nose and lips have moldered away. Its skin has turned black and cracked, revealing several sections of grey muscle and bone.

I don’t dare move, my heart attempting to pulverize itself on the inside of my ribcage. I just stare back at the creature as it continues to examine me. Terrified, but determined, I try once again to communicate with it.

“C-can you unders…”

The creature bellows in a preternatural high pitched shriek with a low gurgling roar. Stunned, I can do little but wince and cower against the detritus I hang from. A second later it bounds off back into the shadows and on into the distance.

I slow my breathing in an attempt to allay my fears and retreat from my perch. Once re-established on the ground I holster my repeater, retain my bag and move to find a decent vantage point to locate Alley. Noticing a prominent heap considerably less frustrated by its surroundings than the one I had recently occupied, I decide to make my way there.

As I begin to clamber up the significantly steeper and loose grades of my chosen affair, I allow my mind to mull around the details of my recent encounter. I begin to wonder why it was that the creature didn’t attack me.

“The ones who told me about these creatures said they slaughtered the rest of their convoy,” I contemplate aloud.

“So why didn’t it kill me?”

“What creatures?” Alley asks.

“Alley!” I exclaim.

Startled, I jerk backwards and, losing my footing, spill down the steep hill marring my ribs on a steel girder just before I hit the ground.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

I pick myself up slowly, coddling my injured ribs as I do.

“No worse for wear,” I joke uncomfortably. I take a seat on some nearby rubble. “Where have you been?”

“I was exploring.” She explains, gracefully gliding over next to me.

“Did you find anything?”

“No. Not particularly. There is an old transfer pad over there.”

I fondle my ribs and, taking a few deep breaths, determining that, though sore, my ribs are indeed fine.

“So you didn’t see any creatures?” I continue to probe.

“No. Did you?”

“Yeah, it’s a scary looking thing too.”

“Do you think it’s the soul you’re looking for?”

“I was too scared to tell,” I admit, “But I’m not entirely convinced that it’s hostile.”

“Well, unless you’re entirely convinced that it’s not I think we should get out of here.”

“Still worried about me?”

“I’m always worried about you, stupid. You’re one of the most stubborn boys I’ve ever met.”

“Oh? Met many boys have we?” I smirk at her. She stares back at me for several seconds with a venomous malice. “No?”

“You’re such a jerk.” She replies flatly.

“We’ve established this.” I retort getting up and adjusting my bag.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going after that creature.”

“Are you kidding me?” she argues. “You’re going to get yourself killed!”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” I state as I begin to make my way back towards my last encounter.

“Warren. Please don’t.” She persists, following me closely.

“If it is a mired soul then I can help it let go.”

“And if it’s just a creature of the waste?”

“That’s what the repeater is for.”

“Warren…”

“Alley, don’t you want to come back?” I interrupt.

“No… I mean yes but…”

“Then this is what I have to do.”

“Yeah, but…”

“And any one of these souls could start the flow again. So I have to try.”

“I know, but…”

“Madmarion is gone, Alley. There is no one left to help.”

“I just want to be with you!” She yells. I stop and turn to face her. Her fear and anger is palpable and I imagine if ghosts could cry she would be.

“Alley, I…”

“What good is any of this if you’re not here? The world will heal just fine on its own! Why should you risk your life?”

“Because when I die I want to be able to pass on.” I explain.

“If you die today you’ll wind up as one of those souls. Then what? I just sit here and watch you suffer for eternity?”

“If I don’t try then we all will.” I point out.

Realizing that she can no longer remonstrate she turns away from me and screams furiously at the night sky.
There’s no reaction from the world around us at all, no echo or sketched creature. None but I will ever know the temper tantrum she’s throwing. I find this amusing.

I give her a second to regroup. Finally turning to face me, her face twisted in disapproval, she storms past me towards my quarrel.

“If we’re going to do this I’m going first.” She announces.

“Good idea,” I agree, turning to follow her.

The moon has abated enough to hide behind the surrounding cityscape, enveloping the entire area in an almost ink black pocket of shadow. I can see nothing. Forced to allow my eyes to adjust, I take a seat on the ground and listen carefully for any movement.

A few minutes pass before I can start to make out the shapes in the darkness. I hear something shift to my left in between the building and the mound I had taken shelter in.

“Alley,” I direct, pointing toward the sound.

“Whoa!” She exclaims.

I pop up and take a look. Indeed the creature has come out to investigate me. I start to reach for my repeater and make a conscious effort to stop myself. Instead I begin to slowly make my way towards it.

“Hello.” I greet. My heart begins to pound once again. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

I crouch low and put up my left hand as to signify that I am not a threat. The creature picks up its head for a second in reaction to this gesture. It in turn begins to crawl towards me, making the same low pop and rumble sound it made earlier.

“Warren?” Alley worries. I ignore her, focusing on the task at hand.

I sense that we close on each other with equal parts caution and intrigue, feeling more and more anxious with every labored step. Finally, within reach of each other, we stop. Neither of us wanting to make the first move for fear of the other.

“It’s okay,” I assure the creature, unsure if it can even understand me. “I’m here to help.”

The creature leans in and places its forehead on the palm of my left hand. Its skin is hard, dry and coarse. It doesn’t breathe. All of the noise it creates is coming from its torso. I close my eye and see if I can feel the soul.

I only catch a glimpse when the creature draws back and darts away in fear. I hear Alley yell something, but I have no time to comprehend what is happening before something smashes into my ribs, sending me sprawling through the air.
© Copyright 2016 Ryan Michael Karn (karnage at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2076006-The-Necromancer