by P. G. Edwards
\n
<\/br>
\nThe office was cramped, dark and smelt like rotten meat.\u00a0 A handful of half-melted burning candles were scattered about the room and thick, acrid smoke poisoned the air.\u00a0 There were no windows; ancient, mismatched furniture cluttered the already claustrophobic room.\u00a0 Any respectable professional would have been ashamed to meet prospective clients in such an inhospitable dump.<\/p>\n
Luckily, Vannevar\u2019s profession was well beyond the realm of respectability.\u00a0 People that chose to procure Vannevar\u2019s services were not expecting a clean, well-presented and sanitary experience.\u00a0 If they were, they were seriously delusional.\u00a0 There were only two types of client in Vannevar\u2019s profession, the desperate and the depraved.\u00a0 \u00a0 Vannevar was a necromancer, the darkest of all the dark sorcerers, and a ceaseless pest of the souls of the dead.\u00a0 A necromancer was a figure whom society shunned, and who shunned society right back.\u00a0 A necromancer could, for the right fee, make deals with demons and summon spirits, even resurrect the dead.<\/p>\n
Vannevar was a very good necromancer.\u00a0 Unfortunately, he was also a terrible poker player.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy full house beats your three Queens,\u201d the disembodied voice said calmly but intensely, \u201cpay up.\u201d\u00a0 Vannevar huffed irritably as he leant over and plucked three fingers from a large gory bucket that stood on the floor to his right.\u00a0 Random body parts of various states of decomposition filled the bucket to its brim.\u00a0 The necromancer flicked the fingers into the centre of the table, where a rotting severed hand (that possessed only a thumb and a forefinger) crawled across the grimy table cloth and collected them.<\/p>\n
\u201cLook at that!\u00a0 You\u2019ve only been playing a few hours and you\u2019ve already got yourself a whole hand!\u201d<\/p>\n
The second voice was far more jovial than the first, although it carried the same echo to it as the first, and came from a headless, one-armed torso that was propped up in a chair to Vannevar\u2019s left at the table.\u00a0 What appeared to be a grey mist hung around the area where the body\u2019s head should have been.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou know, Moss, I\u2019d greatly appreciate it if you didn\u2019t spread the news of these poker games to the entire spiritual plane,\u201d Vannevar remarked to the one-armed torso.\u00a0 \u201cIt really hampers my ability to intimidate the spirits of the dead if they all think of me as a glorified body part dispenser.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t flatter yourself, Vannevar, there\u2019s nothing glorified about you.\u00a0 And as I\u2019ve told you before, only a precious few souls know about this little arrangement.\u00a0 I\u2019m very strict with my selection process,\u201d the semi-bodied spirit named Moss protested unconvincingly.<\/p>\n
\u201cGood, keep it that way.\u00a0 I want only the most useful souls to know about the game.\u201d<\/p>\n
In truth, Vannevar didn\u2019t much care which spirits knew about his poker habit; however he had to give the impression that he was playing against his better judgement.<\/p>\n
The principle law of the ignoble profession of necromancy went thus: Knowledge is power, more so than in any other vocation; a necromancer must always have some information or connection that those he deals with do not have, but do desire.<\/p>\n
Vannevar had links all over the spiritual plane of existence, or more accurately non-existence.\u00a0 The spirits knew well that a word from Vannevar in the right metaphysical ear could either deliver them to the glory above, or damn them to the pits below.\u00a0 Therefore many of those lost souls that lingered in the purgatory of the Void were more than willing to deal with the necromancer.<\/p>\n
The angels of the heavens and the demons of the hellfire were much tougher to bargain with.\u00a0 Vannevar had to make use of every scrap of information that he could glean to get what he needed.\u00a0 He also took full advantage of the competitive hierarchical systems of heaven and hell, both of which Vannevar had found to be more ludicrous and dishonest than any political environment on the physical plane.<\/p>\n
The sad fact of the matter was that the Lord Himself was not as powerful, nor as omniscient, as the priests liked to claim.\u00a0 The Lord Himself had to look after the entire physical world, and indeed any other physical worlds.\u00a0 He simply did not have the time to concern himself with the minutiae of everyday afterlife.<\/p>\n
That detail was left to his lieutenants, who were powerful, but certainly not omniscient.\u00a0 No matter how much detail they obtained on a person\u2019s life there was usually, in at least ninety-six and a half percent of cases, some transgression that had been overlooked.<\/p>\n
The Agents of the afterlife obtained their information from the memories of both those that had died, and those that remained alive.\u00a0 Rich men and women with dark secrets often hired mages of ill-repute to remove such dark secrets from the memories of those that knew of them.\u00a0 Thus, when the Agents came looking for the deeds of the deceased, the dark secret remained just so.\u00a0 The ravages of reminiscence wrought by the passing of time had a similar effect.<\/p>\n
Vannevar used his contacts, both ethereal and physical, to furnish him with information that would allow him to fulfill the wishes of his clients.\u00a0 Retrieving secrets from the beyond wasn\u2019t the only service that Vannevar provided, but it was what the vast majority of his customers required.<\/p>\n
Vannevar huffed as he lost another hand to Moss, in more ways than one.\u00a0 He looked around the table at his poker buddies.\u00a0 Moss had been a hitter for a small time gang before he\u2019d died; he\u2019d never killed anyone, so it was unlikely he\u2019d end up in Hell.\u00a0 More than likely a few decades of purgatory awaited him before he was finally allowed into the bottom rung of the Heavens; unless Vannevar helped him of course.<\/p>\n
Moss was almost as bad at poker as Vannevar was, but the new one across the table was worryingly good.\u00a0 Octavius was his name; he had been a banker who\u2019d swindled his clients out of hundreds of thousands of crowns.\u00a0 They\u2019d burned him alive when they found out, which is exactly the kind of experience that creates violent poltergeists.\u00a0 The spirit seemed calm enough now, but Vannevar knew he\u2019d have to be careful with this one or he\u2019d end up with another psychotic zombie serial killer on the loose.<\/p>\n
The third spirit was also playing with Vannevar for the first time.\u00a0 He had been very important indeed in life, and Vannevar was certain that this spirit would prove to be very valuable to him over the course of the next hour.<\/p>\n
There was a conspicuously polite knock at the office door.\u00a0 Vannevar got up wordlessly and carefully picked his way past the numerous cadavers and mouldy textbooks that littered his office floor.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, now that\u2019s poor form, Van, tell \u2018em to sod off so we can carry on with the game,\u201d Moss cried.\u00a0 Vannevar turned and shot a dirty look that silenced the spirit immediately.\u00a0 He then turned and opened the door for his newest client.<\/p>\n
<\/br>
\nAs the former Duchess of Stygg Island, Lady Anne was not accustomed to walking through such squalor.\u00a0 The street that she now found herself in was particularly decrepit, even in relation to the filthiness of the district of T\u00f8v as a whole.\u00a0 She reminded herself of her pressing need to be there and forced her feet along the mud and effluent covered street.<\/p>\n
She stopped at an especially disgusting hovel, in front of which was a hideous pile of decaying corpses.\u00a0 She wretched at the abominable sight and rancid smell and somehow found the will to prevent herself from vomiting upon her own shoes.\u00a0 The door of the place had a large V roughly carved into its surface, and this told her she had arrived at the right place.\u00a0 Although, she thought to herself, it was more than a little unsettling that she should consider a place such as this as \u201cthe right place.\u201d<\/p>\n
Lady Anne took a few moments to muster up all the composure that five decades of life experience had provided her with, and then knocked on the door of the squalid shack that stood before her.\u00a0 She tried vainly to maintain some of her dignity as a thick smudge of grime smeared across the knuckles of her fine white gloves.\u00a0 She brushed a few of the myriad specks of dirt off the front of her long dark blue jacket, and resolved that she would maintain her noble bearing throughout the whole of this grim encounter.<\/p>\n
The door opened surprisingly smoothly and out of the interior gloom stepped a tall, thin, pale man with long dark hair and a preposterous goatee.\u00a0 Were it not for the Vandyck-ian monstrosity that clung to his face, along with his general air of un-cleanliness, Lady Anne thought that he might have been considered handsome.<\/p>\n
\u201cMister Vannevar, I presume?\u201d she queried icily.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour Ladyship, I\u2019ve been expecting you.\u00a0 Come in.\u00a0 Please excuse the mess; I\u2019m afraid that I have misplaced my broom.\u201d<\/p>\n
He spoke with an authoritative voice that sounded remarkably educated.\u00a0 Despite herself she chuckled internally at his sarcasm.\u00a0 The man had already confounded Her Ladyship\u2019s expectations somewhat, and she had been caught off guard.<\/p>\n
As she walked past him and into his shack, he peered beyond her at the pile of corpses that clogged the street.<\/p>\n
\u201cExcellent!\u00a0 The postman\u2019s been,\u201d he chirped.\u00a0 He then turned and called into the gloom, \u201cGabe, today\u2019s delivery is here.\u00a0 Sort it out will you please, I\u2019m with a client.\u201d<\/p>\n
Lady Anne shuddered at being termed a \u201cclient\u201d of this man, but made no audible objection.<\/p>\n
Just then the musty air in front of her stirred and an outrageous monstrosity shuffled past her and into the street.\u00a0 Its skin was translucent grey and rotting in several places.\u00a0 It was mostly humanoid in shape, except for two extra arms that were grafted onto its chest, and an extra eye that swivelled around seemingly aimlessly in the back of its bald head.<\/p>\n
\u201cIgnore him, he\u2019s harmless; and brainless…ish,\u201d remarked Vannevar.\u00a0 Lady Anne looked back at her host in disbelief; sheer shock kept her from screaming.\u00a0 She was swiftly forgetting her sensibilities and felt it was high time to get on with her business for being there, before she lost them altogether.<\/p>\n
\u201cMister Vannevar, could I be so bold as to suggest we move along with my business here?\u201d she said, with as much insistence as she dared.<\/p>\n
\u201cOf course!\u00a0 How rude of me,\u201d Vannevar exclaimed cheerily, then he turned and shouted to his thing-servant, \u201cTake them round the side, Gabe, I\u2019m busy in here.\u201d\u00a0 The thing grunted in what Lady Anne guessed was an affirmation.<\/p>\n
\u201cNow, follow me Your Ladyship.\u201d\u00a0 Vannevar shut the door and then turned and led Her Ladyship further into the unsettling shadows of his office.\u00a0 As she followed she felt herself stepping in some unknown mushy substance and fought the urge to look down and identify it.\u00a0 In this instance, she reckoned, ignorance was probably bliss.<\/p>\n
Ahead of her, Vannevar had stopped at a barely illuminated circular table a short way into the room.\u00a0 Although she couldn\u2019t see the walls of the office through the dark, the layout of the nearby furniture told her that it was a small space.<\/p>\n
She stopped just at the edge of the light of the table and gasped as she took in the grotesque tableau before her.\u00a0 To the far left, a grimy naked torso was propped up in a chair.\u00a0 It only possessed its right arm, and both the stitch marks on its shoulder and the wildly differing skin colours told her that the arm had not come from the same body as the torso.\u00a0 A fingerless hand was attempting to perform what looked like a shoulder massage on the torso, without much success.<\/p>\n
Across the table from Her Ladyship, a hand full of mismatched digits idly pawed at the tablecloth.\u00a0 She looked, but could see no other body parts attached to the hand.\u00a0 The chair to the right of the table contained nothing but a strange silvery mist, which on closer inspection could be seen lurking around the other three chairs also.<\/p>\n
Vannevar noticed the horrified grimace on Her Ladyship\u2019s undeniably attractive face and made to reassure her, \u201cDon\u2019t worry, they can\u2019t hurt you; they\u2019re quite dead.\u201d\u00a0 This didn\u2019t appear to have the desired effect, so he continued, \u201cNone of them were violent, just petty criminals, for the most part.\u201d<\/p>\n
She could only manage a weak, disbelieving, \u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, it started as a way of getting information, but now I\u2019m mostly just trying to get my body parts back,\u201d Vannevar whispered to her sheepishly.<\/p>\n
Unfortunately for Vannevar, Moss chose that time to pipe up.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t believe it!\u00a0 Is that a woman you\u2019ve got there?\u00a0 Haven\u2019t seen one of those around here in a while.\u201d\u00a0 The necromancer\u2019s face had gone a deep crimson, so naturally Moss continued, \u201cWell, fair play, Van, I must admit I\u2019ve noticed you\u2019ve seemed a bit lonely recently.\u201d<\/p>\n
Vannevar\u2019s eyes were now clenched shut.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou fu…\u201d he muttered, before remembering his company and abruptly stifling the curse.\u00a0 Despite her situation, Lady Anne found herself struggling to stifle a chuckle.\u00a0 The necromancer calmly turned to face the table and said, \u201cDimitto.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her Ladyship could just hear Moss say, \u201cOh, you complete pri…\u201d before he and the spirit with the single hand disappeared into the ether. The body parts that they had previously occupied drooped lifelessly, and the torso with one arm tilted precariously in its chair.<\/p>\n
The bodiless spirit that remained in the chair to Lady Anne\u2019s right was formless, but she could have sworn that she saw it turn to face Vannevar.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy am I still here?\u201d it enquired politely, but firmly.<\/p>\n
Her Ladyship gasped; even through the echoing distortion of its spiritual form, she still recognised that voice.<\/p>\n
Vannevar noticed the wave of recognition across her face.<\/p>\n
\u201cI suppose it\u2019s time we addressed your business for being here,\u201d he said.\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019m sure by now you realise that the spirit in front of you is none other than that of your departed husband, the former Duke Elbert of Stygg Island.\u201d<\/p>\n
Lady Anne stepped forward into the faint light of the candles that surrounded the table.\u00a0 She gazed intensely at the formless mist before her.<\/p>\n
\u201cHello Elbert,\u201d she whispered softly.\u00a0 The spirit seemed to recoil slightly, as if shocked at being addressed so familiarly.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnne?\u00a0 Is that you my love?\u201d\u00a0 The voice that returned from the spirit seemed slightly hollow, but the emotion it carried was almost tangible.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s me, Elbert,\u201d she replied simply.\u00a0 \u201cI hired the necromancer to summon you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u00a0 You can\u2019t be thinking of bringing me back as an abomination, surely?\u201d\u00a0 A note of panic inflected the spirit of Elbert\u2019s voice, but Vannevar also detected a hint of longing.\u00a0 This had been no mere marriage for status, the necromancer thought to himself, these two truly loved each other.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, Elbert. I miss you sorely, and I will never reclaim the piece of me that died with you; but I have made my peace with your absence, and will not desecrate your legacy by attempting such a deed.\u201d<\/p>\n
Vannevar was glad to hear this; full blown resurrection was both laborious and painful, not to mention messy.\u00a0 He had no desire to spend the next week picking ectoplasm out of his moustache.<\/p>\n
Lady Anne stiffened then, as if rinsing herself of the emotions that clogged her brain.\u00a0 This was a woman who had had to become extremely tough in the last month since her husband had died.<\/p>\n
\u201cElbert,\u201d she began, \u201cI have a question that I need to ask you, and you must tell me the entire truth.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOf course, my love, ask me anything.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow did you die?\u201d Her Ladyship asked levelly.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt was a heart attack, my love.\u201d<\/p>\n
Vannevar noticed a hesitation there; in all his years of reading spirits, he could tell when one was not telling the whole truth.\u00a0 He wondered if Lady Anne had noticed it.<\/p>\n
\u201cI asked you to tell me the entire truth.\u201d\u00a0 There was a steely determination in Her Ladyship\u2019s voice now.<\/p>\n
\u201cI– I did.\u00a0 Why, what did my brother tell you?\u201d\u00a0 Panic grew in Elbert\u2019s voice.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe told me nothing!\u201d Anne snapped.\u00a0 \u201cThat is what concerns me so.\u00a0 I was told only that you had died and the doctor suspected a heart attack.\u00a0 They would not let me see your body, they would not let me talk to the mortician, and to make matters worse, the doctor who pronounced you dead has mysteriously disappeared!\u201d\u00a0 All the pent up frustration of the last month burst out of the former duchess like steam from a kettle.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat are you saying?\u00a0 What are you suggesting?\u201d\u00a0 The spirit of the ex-duke was beginning to buckle under the stress of inquisition. Vannevar felt sorry for him, death was a stressful enough experience even without the heartbroken histrionics of your own widow to compound it.\u00a0 Although, during his period of governance over Stygg Island, Elbert had cracked down mercilessly on those of Vannevar\u2019s profession as well as other practitioners of dark magic.\u00a0 Perhaps I will wait a little longer before intervening on his behalf, the necromancer thought to himself.<\/p>\n
\u201cElbert, I know Ivan is your brother and you may feel some bizarre need to protect him, but if he had anything to do with your death then please tell me.\u201d\u00a0 Lady Anne\u2019s voice remained dignified, but Vannevar detected the threat of tears.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnne, my love, Ivan had nothing to do with how I died.\u201d\u00a0 Again, Vannevar could tell that Elbert was only telling half of the truth.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t lie to me!\u00a0 I am, was, your wife.\u00a0 Ivan is a greedy fool but I didn\u2019t think he would stoop as low as to murder his own brother just for the chance to take over this god-forsaken island!\u201d\u00a0 Anne breathed deeply, and then continued, \u201cAnd you have the temerity, the sheer asinine blind loyalty to protect him, even from beyond the grave!\u201d<\/p>\n
Elbert\u2019s spirit squeaked in protestation, but before he could issue a further denial, Lady Anne cut him off.<\/p>\n
\u201cI will have him hanged for this!\u00a0 Executed!\u00a0 I knew that no mere heart attack could take Elbert Bendtsson from me.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her Ladyship rose up to her full, not inconsiderable, height and Vannevar could see in this woman the strength had enabled her to cope with the numerous assassination attempts, slanderous allegations and failed kidnapping plots that had been aimed at her family during her husband\u2019s time as Duke of Stygg Island.\u00a0 Elbert had been popular with the people during his reign, but any ruler that was popular with the people was more often than not deeply unpopular with the dangerous criminal underbelly that polluted every major population centre.<\/p>\n
Just as Lady Anne was about to speak again, Elbert interjected, and even without an obvious visual expression to draw from, Vannevar could tell that this spirit had been broken by guilt.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt wasn\u2019t Ivan who killed me, my love, but you are correct, it wasn\u2019t a heart attack.\u201d<\/p>\n
Lady Anne stood dumbstruck but, after a brief moment of surprise, she beckoned him to continue.<\/p>\n
\u201cI was not killed by any other person or animal, it was infection that took me; that much is true.\u201d\u00a0 The spirit sounded heartbroken; Vannevar considered that were this not a weekly occurrence in his professional life, he would probably have shed a tear for these two.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow?\u201d Anne said simply.<\/p>\n
\u201cSyphilis,\u201d Elbert replied.<\/p>\n
Her Ladyship collapsed to her knees, heedless of the filth on the floor beneath her.\u00a0 A look of devastation afflicted her previously dignified face.<\/p>\n
\u201cI suffered no such blight,\u201d she uttered meekly.\u00a0 Tears welled in the eyes of the shattered former duchess.<\/p>\n
\u201cI know, my love,\u201d the spirit then made a noise that, had it possessed a human form, would surely have taken the form of a deep, regretful sigh.\u00a0 It continued, \u201cI am so deeply, deeply sorry for this.\u00a0 I suffered a moment of weakness and will carry my shame with me for the rest of my afterlife.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWho?\u201d asked Her Ladyship tearfully.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe was an office clerk in King Herbert of Franke\u2019s cabinet.\u00a0 I met her on my last diplomatic trip to Franke\u2019s capital, Eiffel,\u201d said Elbert.\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019d been away from you for weeks; I was lonely and the city seduced me.\u00a0 I don\u2019t even remember her name,\u201d he added frantically.<\/p>\n
Vannevar considered this information with relish.\u00a0 The Frankish were notoriously promiscuous, and if the office clerk had had the temerity to attempt to seduce a foreign dignitary then she must have been quite the attractive little saucepot.\u00a0 The thought of a particularly virulent venereal disease spreading rampantly through the King of Franke\u2019s cabinet was wildly amusing to the necromancer.\u00a0 This thought caused a violent giggle to erupt forth from Vannevar\u2019s throat, which he barely managed to mask with a deeply suspicious bout of coughing.\u00a0 Neither of his clients noticed his dramatics.<\/p>\n
\u201cPlease say something to me, Anne, my love.\u201d\u00a0 Elbert\u2019s soft words smashed the tense silence.<\/p>\n
Her Ladyship said nothing.\u00a0 Instead, she rose to her feet, wiped the tears and smeared make-up from her eyes and turned to leave.\u00a0 On her way to the door she wordlessly deposited Vannevar\u2019s payment on a heavily soiled cabinet.\u00a0 Ignoring the viscera under her feet, she walked right up to the door to the street outside and opened it, and then she turned back to her former husband and said, \u201cI loved you to the end… and beyond.\u201d\u00a0 Immediately the steel returned to her features and she stepped into the street, slamming the door behind her.<\/p>\n
The spirit of the former duke of Stygg Island addressed Vannevar the necromancer.\u00a0 \u201cI won\u2019t feel slighted if you share my transgression with the powers that be.\u00a0 I deserve much worse.\u00a0 I had the memories of everyone who knew shielded.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI think you\u2019ve paid enough penance for this particular sin.\u00a0 None of the powers will examine your wife\u2019s memory again so long after your death.\u00a0 I will keep your secret.\u201d\u00a0 Until somebody offers me a lot of money for it, he added to himself silently.<\/p>\n
\u201cThank you,\u201d said Elbert.\u00a0 Vannevar nodded in acknowledgement and uttered the word to dismiss the spirit back to the Void.<\/p>\n
He considered Elbert\u2019s situation and sighed; the man couldn\u2019t have used a reputable physician to treat his disease for fear of his secret being exposed to anyone with a bit of ambition and a lot of coin, and using a black market doctor would have been far too risky considering his reputation amongst the criminal classes.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow tragic,\u201d Vannevar said to himself, not completely disingenuously.<\/p>\n
The necromancer retrieved his money from the cabinet and picked up his appointment book, which was perhaps the cleanest thing in his entire office.\u00a0 He opened it up and examined his appointments for the rest of the day.\u00a0 He cursed loudly as he saw that he had booked the Skorpion Gang in an hour, to perform a full resurrection of their currently deceased leader.\u00a0 Looks like I\u2019ll need a wash tonight after all, he thought to himself.\u00a0 Well… maybe.<\/p>\n
<\/br> by P. G. Edwards The office was cramped, dark and smelt like rotten meat.\u00a0 A handful of half-melted burning candles were scattered about the room and thick, acrid smoke poisoned the air.\u00a0 There were no windows; ancient, mismatched furniture cluttered … Continue reading
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<\/br>
\nP.G. EDWARDS<\/strong> was born just outside London, England on Feb 26th 1989. He has lived in the county of Berkshire for the entirety of his formative years; which included being taught at a convent school by real nuns. Since leaving school he has worked in a variety of laborious jobs (including a stint at a camping shop), and has decided to start early in the pursuit of his ultimate dream of becoming a full-time writer.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"