The Unknown Series

ISSUE 4: NECROMANCER. PART 1.

#THE_UNKNOWN (A series of short horrifying stories)
   
Author: Sam Freddy
   
Issue 4: NECROMANCER.
   
Part 1
   
    Insomnia. One word, big trouble.
   
    For most people, nighttime is the best time to sleep to their satisfaction, but for me, nightmares are the order of my nights. While others may count sheep every night, I’d rather be awake, writing sad stories and songs or scribbling on old newspapers and drawing on sketchbooks just to ensure I don’t fall asleep. I have a very good reason for doing so for more than two months now.
   
    Coffee, pills and booze became my best friends over time. Some nights, jazz music helps to ease the burden on my mind. I’m also addicted to nicotine. I’d do just about anything to not slumber, let alone sleep deliberately.
   
    At this juncture, you may be wondering why. Why? You might even ask. Why am I so troubled? Why do I avoid sleep like my life depends on it? Why am I restless? Why’s it so hard for me to find peace? What did I do to deserve this? Am I human?
   
    Well, apparently, I have a brain, a rib cage and a stable, healthy heart, so I guess it’s safe to say that I’m a full-blooded human who belongs to the masculine gender. As for the other questions, however, here goes nothing:
   
    Technically, I brought this upon myself. I’m partly at fault for my plight. How? You might wonder. Well, it all started two months ago when I lost my parents and sister via a car accident. We were all together in the car when it happened, but I was LUCKY enough to survive the intense car crash even though I occupied the driver’s seat. It happened on a vast highway. I was driving above the normal speed rate so that I could beat the traffic and make it to the event center we were heading to on time. Unfortunately, I switched lanes and drove with even more speed despite my parents’ warnings, and that was when it happened: our vehicle had a heavy collision with a speeding truck, and it skidded off the road and slammed the weak side of the bridge with great force. The impact of the big hit caused the small wall—fence rather—to break at once and our vehicle fell into the ocean and sank. By the time the local fishermen on canoes, the ambulances, and the paramedics on speedboats came to our rescue, it was already too late. My family had drowned, all because of me, all because of my arrogance, all because of my damn stubbornness.
   
    If only I had listened, they’d still be alive. If only I had obeyed the laws that governed the roads, they’d still be here with me. Presently, I feel like a murderer, a traitor, an outcast, a common killer. She was only nine years old. She had big dreams and loads of positive energy that radiated all around her every day and every time, but now she would never achieve those dreams in a thousand more years to come, all thanks to me. My lovely little sister whose name was Shania and my dear parents are all rotting in their graves, and it’s all my fault.
   
    The funeral was held a week after their deaths. They were all buried beside each other with their respective names carved on their gravestones and numerous fresh roses all around them.
   
    During the funeral sermons, I felt so uncomfortable and ashamed to be in the presence of everyone there, due to their soul-piercing stares that almost ripped me apart. I had my head bowed to the ground almost throughout the ceremony because I couldn’t bear the shame of exchanging glances with people, especially my relatives. It even got worse when I was called to the podium to give a speech in memory of my beloved family. As I stood there, lost for words, I felt like a culprit awaiting trial in a court, but the only difference between a culprit and I is that an average culprit would’ve prayed not to be sentenced to death, but I actually prayed to be swallowed by the earth on that very day. It felt like all eyes on me were accusing eyes and most of them were blunt axes, hoes, and daggers that wouldn’t spare the least of chances to slaughter me ruthlessly if they could. Or maybe I’m just exaggerating the whole issue. But on that day, I felt like the Lord Jesus Christ in their presence, awaiting crucifixion.
   
    I would’ve been better off dead in the car crash than being present at the funeral two months ago. I should’ve died with them. I should’ve drowned too. At least it’d be far better than staying alive with guilt on my conscience and with nothing and no one to live for. All the same, tonight would be the final night of my existence. Hopefully, I’d get to see the spirits of the people that mattered most to me when I execute the action I’m about to take in a few more minutes. I just wish there’s a way I could apologize for my wrongdoing before I cease to exist. I have to find peace somehow. Anyhow.
   
    Presently, the wall clock shows 12:08 AM. I’m still sitting here on this wooden chair with my journal on the table, writing this article for whoever finds it and cares to read it when I’m gone. I’ve set a stool at the center of the room and tied a strong rope on a wood at the top of the ceiling. A poisoned tea would’ve been a better option, but it’s too late and there’s nowhere I can get it by this time. Moreover, I’m not the type of guy who fancies cooking, so I don’t have lots of ingredients that I could mix up as a substitute for a poison, nor do I have an insecticide spray can in my possession. All I want is a quick and easy death, and death by hanging is the best I can think of, so far.
   
    In the past few hours, I have contemplated on stabbing myself to death, or jumping into the same sea I once escaped from, or setting myself ablaze, but all of those options seemed rather too painful to even think of, much less execute in reality. In the end, I settled for leaving through hanging: so much easier, quicker, tested and trusted since time immemorial.
   
    12:10 AM.
   
    The time has come. After writing my last words, “Goodbye, Wicked World,” at the bottom of the rusty page, I drew back and stood up from the chair. Walking toward the center of the room, sweat trailed down my face, and tension built up in my heart, body and soul, inviting death.
   
    I was just about to climb on the stool when my ringtone, Speechless, started buzzing from my phone. Reluctantly, I walked back to the table and picked up the phone. A brief glance at the screen revealed the caller ID; Adesewa, my colleague at work.
   
    ‘Am I supposed to answer this call right now?’ I wondered, staring at the screen. ‘It’s 12:11 in the morning. Why would she call me at such ungodly hour?’
   
    The phone continued ringing until it stopped. In just a few seconds, another call came in from the same caller.
   
    ‘On second thought, maybe I should just pick it up and listen to what she has to say.’ I debated, reaching for the green icon on the screen with my thumb. ‘Surely, it’s got to be something important. Here goes nothing.’
   
    Taking a deep breath, I swiped the icon at once. The timer for the call started reading, but I said nothing.
   
    “Sam?”
   
    Silence.
   
    “Mister Samuel?”
   
    Pin-drop silence continues.
   
    “Hello?”
   
    “Sewa.” I finally spoke, walking slowly to the bed. “I can hear you.”
   
    “Oh. Thank goodness!” She sighed relievedly. “Why didn’t you answer before?”
   
    “Sorry. There was something wrong with the network, I guess.” I lied, sitting on the bottom of the bed. “But I can hear you now.”
   
    “Once again, thank goodness.” Adesewa remarked coolly. “I had a feeling you’d still be awake, even though you aren’t online tonight, which is unlike you, very. Why’s that so? What’re you doing?”
   
    “Uhm, nothing much. Just writing a story.” I lied again, staring at the stool and the rope before me. “And a song.”
   
    “Oh, really?” She cooed, sounding like a sweet little girl. “That’s adorable. Seriously. Sometimes, I wish I could do half of the things you do. You are beyond amazing.”
   
    I forced a smile. “Thank you so much, dear. So are you.”
   
    “Aww.” Adesewa said softly, giggling at the other end. “I’m so damn high in the clouds right now. You’re just so sweet, Sam. Come and marry me already.”
   
    This time around, I smiled and laughed for real. “No way, Sewa! No damn way. I know you’re just pulling my legs, as usual.”
   
    “You sure as hell do know I am!” She burst out laughing too. “You’re not even my type, to begin with. Way too old for me!”
   
    “Girl, you wish.” I chuckled, shaking my head in amusement. “I’m just twenty-four. I’m guessing you’re either nineteen or twenty-two, but I’ll place a bet on twenty. Am I correct?”
   
    “Damn.” Sewa mumbled that instant, surprised. “How’d you know?”
   
    “Well, what can I say? Your looks, especially your face, and your behavior gives it all away.”
   
    “Hmph.” She sighed again, albeit not with relief. “Sounds to me like someone here is crushing on his cute coworker.”
   
    “By someone, you mean me?” I asked rhetorically, laughing again. “Me, crush on you? Eww! Hell no! That’s like a future impossible tense. Extremely gross! That’ll never happen.”
   
    “Freaking douchebag.” Adesewa chuckled. “Wait a minute! Do I really look that young, though?”
   
    “Yup.” I answered easily, still looking at the tools of death in front of me. “Far too young.”
   
    “Well, that’s not a bad thing, is it?”
   
    “No. I don’t think so.”
   
    “Good.” Sewa heaved a sigh of relief, dramatically. “I know you must be wondering why I called you this late… early, rather.”
   
    “Yes, I am.”
   
    “I thought as much. Well, to cut to the chase, I had a dream about you tonight and a terrible premonition during the day.” She confessed, sounding so serious all of a sudden. “Truth be told, Sam, I didn’t like what I saw in both revelations at all. They were so dark and scary.”
   
    “"Revelations"?” I quoted, confused. “What’re you talking about?”
   
    Adesewa was quiet for a moment before she answered with: “Listen, Sam, I know you might not believe what I’m about to say, but I’m gifted in terms of knowing and discovering spiritual affairs or paranormal activities. I see things. I see a lot of things that the average human eyes cannot see. And, as far as I’m concerned, I have a very bad feeling about the things I’ve seen concerning you, so far.”
   
    I took a moment to ponder over Sewa’s words, eyes squinted, nose scrunched, left-hand fingers fiddling with the pillowcase, and my mouth hanging open.
   
    After the words had registered in my already disturbed mind, I asked her, “What exactly did you see, Sewa?”
   
    “Sam, I think it’d be better if I tell you in person.” She responded. “It’s not something we can discuss over the phone.”
   
    “Is it that bad?”
   
    “Please, Sam, let us not talk about it for the time being. There’s still time.” Adesewa said. “I’ll tell you after work today. I promise.”
   
    “Hmm. Alright, then. I’ll be eagerly waiting to hear from you, I guess.”
   
    “Cool. So, um, can I ask you something, Sam?”
   
    “Please, shoot.” I agreed at once. “I’m all ears.”
   
    “Can I facetime with you?” She popped the question I least expected at that moment, stirring a sharp surge of fear through my spine.
   
    I was quiet for a few seconds, but then I manned up and asked nicely, “Why?”
   
    “Honestly, I don’t feel like all’s totally well with you over there. I think you are pretending, considering the oddness of your voice since this conversation began, but I didn’t want to make a mountain out of a molehill, so I decided to act cool and let it slide. But now, I can’t bear it anymore. I want to see your face, Sam.”
   
    “Right now?”
   
    “Yeah. Right now.” Adesewa concurred. “On the green app.”
   
    “Uhm, okay. I’ll meet you there in a few minutes. Say, five at most.”
   
    “Great. Good, good. Sweet.” She agreed. “See you in five minutes, Sam.”
   
    “Yeah.”
   
    Adesewa hung up. Quickly, I jumped up from the bed, rushed to the center of the room and removed the rope from the ceiling and the stool too, then I went back to the bed and sat down. Afterward, I picked up the phone and logged into my WhatsApp account. She was truly online, waiting for me.
   
    I initiated a video call with her, and it clicked at once. Truly, it was weird to see her face covered in cream—so much brown cream. She was wearing a blue hairnet and a black nightgown, but unlike me, she wasn’t mounting on her bed. Rather, she sat on a comfy rocking chair outside, chilling, glowing gracefully. From the little I could observe about the background, a lot of trees and streetlights were everywhere, and nobody else was in sight, either passing or driving through the road.
   
    “Are you done looking, or should I spare you ten more minutes, my lord?” Adesewa’s babyish voice called my attention.
   
    Slowly, I focused on her face once again and replied with a dull but sarcastic tone, “Very funny. Very, very funny.”
   
    Adesewa smiled and said nothing.
   
    “Jokes apart, Sewa, what’re you still doing outside?” I asked, alarmed. “It’s too dangerous out there. Go inside.”
   
    “Sam, chill out. Calm down. I’m just receiving fresh air here.” She countered sharply, laughing. “This is USA, for Christ’s sake. Ohio is a peaceful state. You shouldn’t be worried about me. I’ve stayed here way longer than you have, so believe me when I tell you that nothing’s going to happen to me. I’m safe. There’s no cause for alarm. Get it?”
   
    I was reluctant to agree with her, so I didn’t speak.
   
    “I said, do you copy, soldier?”
   
    Defeated, I answered: “Loud and clear, ma’am. Roger that.”
   
    “Good. So, how are you?”
   
    “Good, as you can see.” I said. “How are you, too?”
   
    “Fine, but you don’t look too good, though.” Adesewa pointed out. “Why are your eyes so reddish? Have you been crying, Sam?”
   
    “No.”
   
    “You know what, Sam? I’m tired of your lies!” She groaned, annoyed. “Do me a favor and stand up from that bed.”
   
    “Why?”
   
    “Just do it.”
   
    “Okay. Fine.” I muttered and obeyed her ‘command’. “Now what?”
   
    “Turn the phone around. I want to see your room.”
   
    “Excuse me?”
   
    “Just do as I say, Sam. Show me your room.”
   
    Although I was hesitant and worried about the essence of Sewa’s commands, I still walked around with the phone’s front camera pointing at every nook and cranny of the big room.
   
    “Sorry to interrupt, but seriously, what’s the point of this whole drama?”
   
    “Shut up and keep walking, sir.” She said politely. “Go to the table near the window.”
   
    Six slow steps got me there.
   
    “Oh, my God. Sam!” Sewa exclaimed sharply. “Jeez! What the hell?!”
   
    “What?”
   
    “Are those what I think they are?”
   
    “What exactly? The notebooks and the pen?”
   
    “No, fool. I’m talking about the ashes of cigarettes in the bowl and the bottles of beer on the table.”
   
    “So what? Are they new to you or something?”
   
    “Jeez. I can’t believe you’re talking this way.” She exclaimed again. “Look here! You are an adult, and you have your rights, so I’m not against you drinking alcohol. But smoking? Uh-uh! No, no, no, no. That’s a big NO from me. It kills faster than AIDS, you know?”
   
    “I’m not exactly sure about that, but what do I care?”
   
    That very moment, Adesewa took a very long look at me, then she sighed and wagged her head pitifully.
   
    “What’s wrong with you?”
   
    “I should be the one asking you that,” she finally spoke, keeping a straight face, “because it’s obvious that something’s eating you up big time.”
   
    “You think so?”
   
    “I know so.” She answered, wagging her head again. “Please, go back to the bed and sit down. It’s brighter there.”
   
    “Right.”
   
    I did just that.
   
    “Now what?”
   
    “Now, let’s talk about your condition.” She stressed the word ‘condition’, adding, “I’d appreciate it so much if you could open up to me, Sam. Tell me what’s going on.”
   
    “Do you really want to know?”
   
    “As you can see, I’m a curious cat, so yeah, I do.”
   
    “Can I confide in you?”
   
    “Yes.”
   
    With that settled, I went ahead and told her everything. I gave a very detailed explanation of how the accident happened and how my family died. I told her how we were rescued, how I ended up in a coma for three days, recovered, and endured the stigma since then.
   
    “I guess you now know the main reason why I rely so much on beer and cigarettes.”
   
    Sewa was quiet for a while, and then, she tried to speak, but she started mumbling incoherently instead.
   
    “Oh. Great. So now you’re tongue-tied, huh?” I facepalmed and raised my brows, acting amused.
   
    “Look, Sam,” she started off, “what happened was not your fault. Believe me. I’m truly sorry about what happened to you and your family. It’s a sad thing, for real, but there’s no way I’m just going to sit here and watch you ruin your life with pills, weed and the likes of it. I know what-”
   
    “Point of correction, I don’t take weed.” I chipped in almost immediately. “It’s gross. It sucks.”
   
    Adesewa sighed. “At least you get the point; that is exactly where I’m heading to. Those things are bad for your health. Very bad.”
   
    “I’m not dumb, Sewa. I know that. But what am I supposed to do? Huh?” I questioned. “Do you expect me to lie on my bed and cry myself to sleep every night, or what?”
   
    “That’s not the point.” She answered, shaking her head. “I’m just saying you shou…”
   
    “Then what’s the point? Huh? Tell me, Sewa!” I cut her off again, fuming gradually. “Tell me!”
   
    “Would you stop interrupting me for a second?”
   
    “Maybe. Maybe not.” I lowered my voice, breathing fast. “You know, instead of judging me and playing the role of a saint in the comfort of your rocking chair, you could just proffer a solution to my problem or something. I would’ve appreciated that more than this.”
   
    “I AM NOT JUDGING YOU! JEEZ!” Adesewa whisper-shouted, wide-eyed. “YOU NEED TO CALM DOWN! HEAR ME OUT! PLEASE!”
   
    Reluctantly, I kept quiet. So did she. I looked away from the screen and closed my eyes, thinking.
   
    “Sam.”
   
    Silence.
   
    “Samuel.”
   
    Deep silence continues.
   
    “Samuel, come on, answer me.”
   
    Intense silence goes on.
   
    “Okay, okay, okay. Fine. Fine! I am sorry. I’m sorry if I sounded overly righteous and inconsiderate or something. I just-”
   
    “Stop. Don’t apologize. I’m sorry.” I interrupted her for the third time, took a deep breath and continued speaking: “I should be the one apologizing instead. I’m sorry for losing my cool. I guess I went a little cray cray.”
   
    Sewa smiled sheepishly. “You sure did. Well, I forgive you, anyway. We’re cool.”
   
    “Thanks.”
   
    “So, as I was saying,” she continued, sounding so serious once again, “still on the explanation you made before, you sorta mentioned something about wanting to make it up to your family, right?”
   
    “Yes. I guess?”
   
    “Sweet. Great. Good!” Sewa mumbled, keeping a straight face again. “Let’s assume you had the chance to do so. Would you?”
   
    “Well, that depends. I mean, it’s impossible to do that, but I would love to. I would love to tell them how bad I feel about their deaths and ask for their forgiveness. Perhaps doing that would relieve me of the burden on my conscience. I don’t know?”
   
    “And here’s the sweetest part of it all.” Sewa said, smiling. “Sam, what if I told you that there’s a way we could actually get your wish granted in no time.”
   
    I squinted my eyes and thinned my lips, staring into her eyes, not knowing what to say.
   
    “Surprised, huh?”
   
    “Wait, are you pulling my legs right now? ’Cause if you’ve noticed, I’m not really in the mood for petty pranks.”
   
    “Sam, I’m serious. Trust me on this. I know what I’m saying.” She defended, still smiling. “There’s a way we can go about it.”
   
    “Okay? How, if I may ask?”
   
    “Good question.” Sewa took a deep breath and sighed, then she said: “I know a woman.”
   
    “So?” I asked, confused. “What about her?”
   
    “Listen. I know a woman—an old woman downtown. She’s a friend of mine.” She rephrased and explained further: “She’s a fortune-teller, a seer, a prophetess… basically anything that has to do with spiritualism you could think of. She’s everything. She’s well known among the locals for her extraordinary abilities. And believe me when I tell you she’s no scam. She’s a hundred and ten percent legit.”
   
    “Okay? Cool. Cool!” I was having a lot of interest in Sewa’s words. “I feel you. C’mon. Go on. I’m listening.”
   
    “Well, I’m thinking we should go there today. I have a feeling that she could be of help somehow. What do you think?”
   
    “Hmm… sounds like a plan. I like the idea, although it’s a strange one. It sounds creepy and quite risky.”
   
    “What is life without risks?” Sewa asked rhetorically, adding, “Oh, and guess what?”
   
    “What?” I asked curiously, noting the spark on her face.
   
    “Rumor has it that she’s also a necromancer, and a powerful one at that.”
   
    “A negro what?”
   
    “A necromancer.”
   
    “That’s weird. What’s a negromancer?”
   
    “Necromancer, dummy.” She corrected with a frown, spelling it out for me: “N-E-C-R-O-M-A-N-C-E-R. Necromancer! It’s not that hard.”
   
    “Whatever. Just tell me what it means.”
   
    “Anyway,” said Sewa, “basically, according to what I read on my mobile dictionary, a necromancer is a person who practices necromancy, divination involving the dead or death. Such person has the power to raise the dead and summon death itself. Yikes! How fascinating is that?!”
   
    “Nonsense.” I hissed irritatedly. “Honestly speaking, for the first time in history, I’m actually disappointed in your mindset. You’ve let me down. Darn! I thought you would’ve left this wack mentality back in Africa where it belongs.”
   
    “Samuel, don’t be a fool. Witchcraft exists everywhere.”
   
    “Well, count me out of it. I don’t believe in sorcery and ghosts.”
   
    All of a sudden, Sewa’s frown turned to a smirk. “Can I ask you a question, Sam?”
   
    I nodded in the affirmative. “Straight up!”
   
    “Do you really want to sort things out with your family for your conscience to be at peace or not?”
   
    Funnily enough, I found it hard to form words for a brief moment. I had been caught off guard. I weighed Adesewa’s question until it sank and registered itself in my brain, but in spite of the clarity I achieved, I still couldn’t come up with an answer.
   
    “I’m still waiting for your response, my lord.” She was already yawning and blinking her eyes rapidly, fighting the urge to slumber. “Do you want to or not? Yes or no?”
   
    “Yes, I want to.” I finally answered, nodding for emphasis. “I really want to.”
   
    “Then if I were you, I’d stop doubting the existence of supernatural beings and start seeing things from MY perspective. Got it?”
   
    “Fine. I hear you.” I nodded again. “Have it your way.”
   
    Sewa laughed coolly. “That’s my boy. Now, let’s call it a day. Come on, it’s late. Get some sleep.”
   
    “Yeah. I agree with you on that one. Goodnight, Sewa.”
   
    “Nighty night, Sam.”
   
    “Catch you later. Bye.”
   
    “Hold on a sec! Don’t disconnect yet.” Sewa’s high-pitched voice startled me all of a sudden. “Are you still there? Can you hear me?”
   
    “Yes. Yeah, yeah. I am. I’m still here. Sup?”
   
    “There’s something I forgot to mention.”
   
    “What could that be?”
   
    “Samuel, pay attention to what I’m about to tell you. Listen and hear me WELL.” She started explaining whilst making eye contact with me. “Bring the pictures of your late father, mother, and sister on your way to work today. In addition, bring anything they liked and used frequently when they were alive. The old lady would need them all.”
   
    “Is that all?”
   
    “Yes, that’s all.” Sewa nodded. “That is all she requires.”
   
    “What about cash?” I asked. “Doesn’t she get paid for her services or something?”
   
    “Of course, she does. She charges high. But don’t worry about that. I’ve got you covered.” Sewa smiled sweetly. “You can’t afford it on your own anyway, even if you spend your life savings on it.”
   
    “Honestly, I find that super-duper offensive, but I’d rather take it as a compliment.”
   
    “It was a joke, dummy.” She giggled and added: “Jeez! What’s up with people’s sense of humor these days?”
   
    “I knew you were joking, genius. I was playing along!” I giggled too, wagging my head. “C’mon, we are wasting time. Let’s go to bed. We have a long day ahead. Okay?”
   
    “Yassuh! I copy.”
   
    “And thank you for checking up on me. Thank you for everything. You have no idea how much this means to me, Sewa. I just want you to know that I’m eternally grateful.” I said, keeping a straight face. “You probably won’t understand what I’m about to say, but you have saved me tonight, Sewa, and for that, I owe you one.”
   
    “Aww! Sam, that was beautiful. But just so you know, you absolutely owe me nothing. I’m only doing what a true friend should do. There’s no doubt you would do the same for me.” She was literally smiling from ear to ear. “Now, get some sleep. Shoo! Shoo!”
   
    I was about to say goodbye and disconnect when she quickly added:
   
    “Remember what I told you about the photos and the items. They are very important, so do not forget them.” Sewa warned seriously. “I repeat, DO NOT FORGET THEM!”
   
    “I won’t. I promise.” I assured her. “You have my word.”
   
    “In that case, this is the point where the curtain closes. I’m taking a bow—going back right inside the house.” She informed me and stood up from the chair with an infectious smile. “Sleep in God’s merciful hands, douchebag.”
   
    “You too, sissy.” I smiled back at her, feeling genuine happiness from the depth of my heart. “Once again, thank you for saving my life. I’m so excited as we speak. God bless you.”
   
    “God bless you more, sweetie.”
   
    With that, Sewa winked at me and bit her lower lip in a teasing, flirtatious manner, and disconnected the call after blowing me a kiss.
   
    What the hell just happened? Is that supposed to be what I think it means?