The Unknown Series

ISSUE 4: NECROMANCER. PART 7.

#THE_UNKNOWN (A series of short horrifying tales)
   
Author: Sam Freddy
   
Issue 4: NECROMANCER.
   
Part 7
   
    If you ask me, I’ll say there are two kinds of pain in life. The first is losing a loved one and knowing you’ll never see them again. The second, hurting someone you love, either purposely or not. Mine, however, was the latter, but for a good cause. Adesewa didn’t see it that way, though.
   
    We’d been in this taxi for the past ten minutes and she hadn’t even said a word to me. She seemed to have developed some resentment for me since Dorothy’s demise. Upset and uptight, she gave me the cold shoulder while crying at the edge of the back seat, stirring concern from the driver, whom she’d called to come pick us up earlier, not within the murder scene, of course. He had met us under someone’s porch in another street where we’d holed up until he came.
   
    “Everything alright back there?” asked the driver, glancing through the rearview mirror.
   
    “Yes, Pete,” said Sewa, sobbing quietly. “Just drive.”
   
    I felt bad for her, for putting her in that condition, and I couldn’t just sit there and watch her waddle in grief and agony. She was an emotional wreck, and I thought it’d be better to just shift past the small space separating us on the seat to console her, but her reaction proved otherwise.
   
    “Don’t touch me!” She warned, her eyes red and puffy. “Just don’t!”
   
    I didn’t blame her for the outburst of anger, though. I mean, if someone came to hug you with the same hands they used to kill your friend, would you allow them? I put myself in her shoes and understood her pain, hence my quiet withdrawal from her space.
   
    “You’re sure all’s fine back there?” asked the driver again, sending me an odd look through the glass.
   
    “Everything’s fine,” I said, looking out the wet window to the darkened sky that poured non-stop. “Just keep driving, please.”
   
    As Pete minded his business, the gravity of what I’d done dawned on me. I was too busy worrying about Sewa’s feelings that I hadn’t even taken a moment to retrospect on the fact that I just killed someone. I felt little to nothing when I fired the shots that ended Dorothy’s life, due to the feeling of endangerment and the rush of adrenaline within me, but now, guilt and regret rained down on me, tugging on my sleeves with brute force.
   
    To me, what I did was self-defense, but my conscience disagreed with me, compelling me to consider the time I’d spend behind bars if the police found out. And as I looked at the glass beside me, my reflection screamed titles like murderer, cold-hearted killer, bloodthirsty scoundrel, and pure evil rogue, forcing me to tell the driver to stop the car.
   
    “What did you say?”
   
    “I said, stop the car, goddamn it!”
   
    The car came to an abrupt halt, shooting Sewa forward, while I opened the door and threw up on the road. The watery street washed my vomit away, leading each one straight into the sewers, until I was done and at ease. Thereafter, I closed the door to see Sewa wearing her seatbelt, looking out the window with teary eyes. Her reflection in the glass killed me more than whatever I was feeling now, so I looked away for my sanity.
   
    “Are we all done?” asked the driver, glancing back, sounding tired of my awful mood swings already.
   
    “Yeah,” I said, shutting my eyes tight to lower my breathing. I was breathing too loud, and fast. “You can drive now.”
   
    “About time.” He remarked, almost derogatorily, but I didn’t care. He started the engine and resumed driving, while I sat still, eyes closed, having flashes of Dorothy’s face and dreading the possibility of the cops finding my fingerprints on the gun next to her corpse by dawn. Everyone would find out at sunrise, and knowing the FBI’s competence on murder cases, it was only a matter of time before I’d be cuffed and sent to jail, or worse.
   
    I was seeing a lifetime in prison, or a death sentence if Adesewa testifies against me in court. What would I say in my defense? That a possessed woman tried to kill me, so I shot her with the gun of another dead man she killed, in her own backyard? How did that even sound?
   
    I rubbed my face and sighed. Either way, I was going to prison, so it was of no use fearing the inevitable. I just pulled my seatbelt over my chest, buckled it, and started gazing at the bright streetlights to distract my mind a bit.
   
    By the time we arrived at the fortuneteller’s shop, Adesewa was fast asleep with her head against the window.
   
    “Alright, we’re here,” announced the driver. “Rise and shine, sunshine.”
   
    She didn’t hear him, so I tapped her, causing her to twitch her eyes open, slowly, back to reality.
   
    “Wakey-wakey, princess,” said Pete. “We are here.”
   
    While Sewa regained consciousness, I pulled some notes from my wallet and handed them to the man. “Here.”
   
    Smiling, he snatched the money and said, “Ahoy! Spoils from my treasure hunt!”
   
    This man was weird, really weird, but I figured he was just trying to cheer us up with his antics, so I shunned him.
   
    Adesewa, on the other hand, stretched her arms out and yawned, casting the sleep off her eyes. “We’ve arrived?”
   
    “Yes,” answered Pete, looking back with a concerned face. “And if I must confess, I’m worried about your business here. Are you sure this is where you’re supposed to be?”
   
    “Yeah,” she said. “Anything wrong?”
   
    “Well, not really, but nobody comes here, especially at night. There’s a closed sign clearly pasted out there,” Pete said with a shrug. “I think you should turn back while there’s still time, both of you.”
   
    “Thanks for your concern, Pete, but I think we’ll take it from here.” Sewa smiled politely, masking her pain. “Thanks for coming out, though. I thought you wouldn’t show up.”
   
    “When have I never?” He said, flashing his teeth at her. He was clearly into her, judging by his tenderness toward her, the cliché pet names and the dozen intense glances he’d given her throughout the ride, but even his romantic advances were too little to make me jealous, especially with such a deep mess I was facing.
   
    “Right.” Sewa managed a broader smile, attempting to open the door, but Pete stopped her.
   
    “Wait, wait,” he said, pulling an umbrella from the top of his dashboard, which he handed to Sewa. “Here. A little something to protect you from the fiery dragon’s flames.”
   
    Sewa collected it with a chuckle, making my chest tighten. “Thanks, Pete.”
   
    We were already wet from all the time spent in the rain outside Dorothy’s house, so I saw no point in the stupid umbrella. However, I stepped out with Sewa and dared not go to her for shade under the umbrella, despite the flesh-ripping lashes of the brutal rain.
   
    “Hey, man, your change.” Pete called, winding his window down.
   
    “Keep it.” I said, scurrying after Sewa to the shop.
   
    “My good man!” Pete exclaimed, overjoyed. “May the odds be in your favor!”
   
    We got to the door as Pete zoomed off. I couldn’t even look at Sewa, let alone speak to her, so I just stood behind and watched her knock desperately. It took a little while for the door to come open, owing to the rain’s noise, maybe.
   
    “Oh, shit. You dweebs again?” Lalita said sleepily, dressed in black pajamas with blue crocs on her feet. “It’s about two o’clock in the morning. Are you immune to sleep or something?”
   
    “Piss off.” Sewa closed the umbrella and brushed past her into the shop, and I followed, noting the raw shock on the teenager’s face.
   
    “Whoa! Somebody seems to be in that time of the month.” Lalita closed the door and switched on the inside light, casting a presumptuous glare at Sewa. “You better watch it, blackie.”
   
    “One more word from you and I’ll crack your skull open with this umbrella.” Sewa cautioned.
   
    “God, I’d love to see you try.” Lalita rested on the wall, crossing her arms.
   
    “Ladies, ladies,” I intervened, raising my hands. “Come on, it’s too early for this.”
   
    “Tell that to your dog, ’cause she’s about to get some serious ass whooping if that gutter hole she calls a mouth keeps running.”
   
    “Lalita, please!” I said with a condescending tone. “Just, please!”
   
    “Okay, okay,” she rolled her eyes, running two fingers across her lips as though she was zipping them.
   
    “So, now that that’s out of the way, I’d like to request that you kindly tell your mother we are here,” I said, joining my hands politely.
   
    “But why, though? I could’ve sworn she told you not to return here until sunrise.”
   
    “Well, something came up.” I said. “Can you just tell her we are here? It’s urgent.”
   
    “Well, thing is, my mother doesn’t like visitors at night, especially around this hour, so if you need my most valued assistance, it’ll cost you ten dollars, sire.”
   
    “Seriously?” Sewa facepalmed, gripping the umbrella tightly. “I swear I’m only one step away from bashing this girl’s head.”
   
    Lalita chuckled. “Try me.”
   
    “Lalita, come on, you can’t be serious!” I frowned at her, getting pissed off with her attitude myself. “You really want to rip us off like this?”
   
    “Uh… I wouldn’t call it fraud, though,” she said with an innocent smile. “Let’s just say it’s compensation for the stress I’ll go through by intruding my mom’s privacy, during her meditation session at that.”
   
    “But you just came out of the same room, didn’t you?”
   
    “Nah. I have my own room in here,” she tilted her head in the direction of a brown door by the left. “It’s a big place.”
   
    I sighed, staring at her with anger.
   
    “Soooo, are we gonna close this deal or not?” She straightened and stretched an open palm to me, twinkling her fingers.
   
    As I angrily removed my wallet to pay her, Lalita burst into laughter, holding her belly while at it. “Dude, I’m kidding!”
   
    “What?”
   
    “I was pulling your faded pants. Jeez!” She revealed, laughing heartily, pointing at us. “You should’ve seen the look on your faces. Epic!”
   
    I breathed in to suppress my anger. This girl was getting on our nerves way too much.
   
    “Just sit there and wait for me,” she gestured at a sofa, heading to her mom’s chambers. “I’ll be back.”
   
    “Teenagers.” I mumbled, watching her sashay away like a gangster, acting like she ruled the world. Accidentally, Sewa and I made eye contact and I looked away at once. “You should sit. I know you’re tired.”
   
    As predicted, Sewa pulled the deaf and dumb card on me.
   
    “You know, I understand that you’re upset and all, but you should really take it easy with the girl. She’s just being a typical teen, and extending your aggression to her isn’t nice.”
   
    “Wow.” Sewa uttered, her tone rough. “That’s really inspiring, coming from someone that shot my friend in the head, three times!”
   
    “Sewa, for the umpteenth time, it was self-defense!” I lashed out before I could stop myself. “Why are you making this difficult? You’re making it look like I shot her for the fun of it!”
   
    “Self-defense my foot!” She hit the base of the umbrella on the carpeted floor, stamping her foot in anger. “Who were you defending? Me or yourself?”
   
    “Sewa, she was going to kill you if I didn’t stop her!” I clenched my fists, all the veins in my neck protruding as I spoke. “What would you rather have me do? Stand by and watch you die?”
   
    “As a matter of fact, yes!” She said. “That would’ve been better than you trying to play hero. At least Dorothy would still be alive!”
   
    “Oh, wow!” I couldn’t believe the words that came out of Sewa’s mouth. “So you’d rather die fruitlessly than protect yourself from a demonic attack?”
   
    “You still don’t get the point?” Sewa’s eyes bore fire and brimstone. “Nobody’s saying you shouldn’t have intervened, but there are other ways you could’ve stopped her, for God’s sake! How about hitting her head with the butt of the gun, like I did with the lamp in the basement? How about pushing her off me and snatching the knife from her? How about–”
   
    “And you think all that would’ve worked?” I cut her off, fuming. “You seem to have forgotten we were dealing with a possessed being, Sewa! A freaking possessed lady!”
   
    “Exactly!” Sewa shouted at me, stamping her foot again, harder. “She was possessed, not deranged! There were chances that she would’ve recovered from it, but you didn’t see it that way! All you cared about was pulling the goddamn trigger!”
   
    Honestly, I was tired of arguing with Sewa. The whole thing just kept going back and forth, and my life was already in a tough downward spiral than I could handle. I didn’t need more complications tonight, not from her or anyone else.
   
    “Okay. Whatever helps you sleep.”
   
    “What the f–” Sewa’s tone skyrocketed as she began coming to me. “You know what? The fact that you’re unremorseful about your actions is sickening! You’re such a proud fool and a dingbat that should’ve never crossed my path. You suck at everything! Everything!”
   
    “Like I said, whatever gives you peace.” I turned around to look out the window and ignore her, but she walked right up to me and smacked my right leg with the umbrella. “Ouch!”
   
    “I hate you!” Sewa pushed me as I turned back to her, vaguely spewing venom, hitting me with the umbrella too. “I hate you!! I hate you!!!”
   
    I couldn’t do anything but endure and allow her get the weight off her chest, so I just let her cuss me out, push and beat me randomly without a word.
   
    “I begged you, Sam. I begged you!” She fisted my chest hard, breaking into tears. “I begged you not to shoot her, but you did! You freaking did!”
   
    At this point, all her energy had depleted, so she just stood still and cried with her head on my chest, giving into her emotions.
   
    “I’m sorry, Sewa.” I embraced her gently, resting my chin on her head. “I really am.”
   
    “Aww! This is lovely,” Lalita’s voice called our attention, making us pull back and maintain a gap again. “Who doesn’t like a real good couple time, especially when they just almost brought the whole place down with their noise?”
   
    “We’re sorry,” I said, noting her sarcasm. “Things just got heated a little.”
   
    “I can clearly see that,” said Lalita, cracking a smile, driving her index finger through the small hole created by her opposite fingers, describing what seemed to be sexual intercourse. “Glad I’m right on time for the big bang!”
   
    I ignored that. “So, your mom?”
   
    “Always about business. I like that,” she gave me a kind of look that triggered a frown from Sewa and made my stomach churn. I couldn’t imagine being a teenager’s fantasy for no reason whatsoever, with everything going on. The air would’ve been awkward if she hadn’t quickly added, “Anyway, follow me. She’s waiting.”
   
    Bracing ourselves, we did the normal ceremony of dropping our items outside before stepping in barefooted. In here, we were greeted with the sight of the necromancer sitting cross-legged on the floor before some black candles and speaking indistinctly, her tattooed hand hanging above the flames. I observed that her left hand stayed hidden from sight, buried in the depths of her overflowing black garment, between her thighs.
   
    “Welcome,” she said, a little bit forced than genuine. Something about the woman’s voice seemed off, but I couldn’t tell what, yet.
   
    “Wise one,” Sewa signalled to me to kneel with her with our heads down, like the first time, to avoid seeing the woman’s face, which ironically was still covered in the dark veil, making me unable to grasp the essence of bowing our heads in the first place. “We are sorry to intrude your privacy, but there’s been some complications with the rituals that has left us no choice but to come back here for your help, oh great one.”
   
    “Save yourself the burden of explaining. I’m well aware of what’s happening,” she said, her shadow stretching over beneath my sight, making me see that she was still very much stationed with her fingers dancing above the fire. “Come join me, both of you.”
   
    Following Sewa’s lead, I settled on the floor before the necromancer, Indian style, nervous about such closeness between me and her. The last time she was so near to me was yesterday when she questioned me about what I saw and I failed to respond fast, which resulted in a dirty slap that stirred the fear I felt now in her presence. Just one more error and I’d be dabbing a swollen cheek soon.
   
    “What went wrong?” She asked me. “I saw visions of something bad, but they weren’t clear enough for me to understand. Tell me what happened.”
   
    “You mean, with the rituals?”
   
    “Yes, that too,” she nodded, dividing her attention between me and the candlelight, her fingers gliding over its smoke. “Did you do exactly as I instructed?”
   
    “Yes, but–”
   
    “If so, how come two people are now dead?”
   
    “Wait, what?” That was a sharp expression from a bewildered Lalita. “People are dead?”
   
    “Silence, child.” The woman cautioned her daughter, then said to me, “Can you tell me why two lives are wasted if you were careful as you claimed?”
   
    “Ma’am, I… I…” I was stuttering when my eyes caught something strange on the woman’s left hand, which had subconsciously risen from its hidden position. “Wait, is that a hole in your hand?”
   
    Upon realization, the woman withdrew her injured hand back in the midst of her thighs, but we’d all seen it already, and we were astounded. If I followed my instincts, I’d bet that the wound on the necromancer’s hand looked just like the damage Dorothy suffered when I shot her hand earlier, just before it detached from her arm.
   
    “Oh, jeez! Mom!” Lalita exclaimed, rushing forward. “What happened to your hand?”
   
    “It’s nothing. Stay back.”
   
    “Mom, you need help! Medical attention!” Lalita forged on, kneeling beside her mother and attempting to touch the bleeding hand, but she got pushed off immediately.
   
    “I said, stay back!” thundered the necromancer, unremorsefully. “Stop being stubborn!”
   
    Lalita was in grave shock with what just happened; you could see it in her eyes that she clearly didn’t see such ill-treatment coming, so it wasn’t odd to see her sprawled on the floor now.
   
    “But, wise one,” Sewa intervened, “she’s right. You need medical attention right away.”
   
    “For the umpteenth time, it’s fine! I’m fine!” She insisted, keeping the wounded hand hidden. “It’s just the side effects of a badly mixed potion. It’ll heal in a week. Nothing to worry about.”
   
    Badly mixed potion indeed, I reasoned internally, full of suspicion.
   
    Everyone else might be fooled by this woman’s corny excuses, but I, personally, wasn’t buying it. Something about her overdefensiveness was worrisome, so much so that I had to scheme a plan right then to expose her.
   
    What I was about to do would either prove my suspicions right or land me in deep trouble, but I was bent on doing it regardless.
   
    So, with one swift pull, I unmasked the necromancer and revealed the hideous face she’d been hiding all along, just to discover three fresh bullet wounds on her head—the same ones I saw when I gunned Dorothy down before, in the actual, exact pattern.