Three men walked into a bar: a priest in traditional garments, an orthodox rabbi, and a wild-looking fellow decked in ragged robes known as the necromancer.
The bar was dimly lit. I and a few elderly patrons sipped whiskey silently, reeking of despair. The rabbi and priest exchanged grim glances. They were completely out of place.
“Cheer up, gentleman. You’ll never have to see me or this bar again after tonight. It’ll all just be a horrible nightmare.” Cloaked in darkness, the filthy necromancer cackled with delight.
They sat towards the back of the room. A stern-faced waitress brought a round of shots. The necromancer gobbled all three in seconds.
“Fuck that burns! I don’t know how you religious types live so piously, such a waste of life. Sex, drugs, and rock’n’roll — that’s how I roll.”
“God is all we need. His light fills us.”
“God? Remind me why you’re here again?” The necromancer howled with laughter, banging his fist on the table.
“Even God has his blind spots.” The rabbi whispered, head slung down.
“I suppose I’m that blind spot. How delightful.” The necromancer motioned for another round. “So who is this woman?”
“That is none of your concern.”
“Alright, I can take a hint. I’ll shut my mouth. With the amount you’re paying me, I don’t need to know shit.”
The waitress brought more shots which the necromancer greedily downed in quick succession. Cigarette smoke hung thick in the air. The rabbi and priest looked annoyed.
“We’re short on time. We need to get this started.” Jaw clenched, the priest rapped his knuckles on the table.
“Are you blind? We’ve already begun.”
Smoke twisted unnaturally around the group. It moved with sentience. Dancing in tight circles, a green aura began to emanate from within.
“We can’t do this here! People will see.”
“They’ll see what I want them to see. this is my church and they are my flock. Just like you deliver the holy sacrament from the pew, I must do the same.”
The other patrons kept themselves drowned in their drinks. I leaned back in my chair, acting aloof. Sunglasses obscured my intense gaze.
Snatching an empty glass from the table, the necromancer motioned for the priest and rabbi to place their fingers on the rim. The Necromancer shook violently, eyes rolling back in his head.
“I call upon the kingdom of darkness to heed our call. We beckon the spirits of the underworld to fill this glass. Let them come forth and give life of the life to the lifeless; to perverse the natural order and speak the words unspoken.”
I took furious notes, transcribing every word. No one else seemed to notice the unnatural ceremony. The other patrons were in a complete stupor.
“Come forth! Come forth! Come forth! I command you!”
Lights flickered in the bar. I shivered as a frigid air washed over me. Haunted whispers filled the room.
The necromancer grew suddenly silent. A red liquid filled the glass from an unseen source; it boiled and bubbled. Both the priest and rabbi sat stoically, the latter wincing for only a moment.
A clap of thunder echoed in the distance. The smoke cleared and other patrons showed life again. It was like a dark cloud had passed over us.
“Take this drink and give it to her. My work is done, so I suggest you take your leave gentleman. Ok? Get the fuck out of here. Unpleasant things tend to linger after the ceremony is completed and they loathe men like you.”
“I’d say thank you, but I can’t say I’m thankful for this. Still…I appreciate your efforts. You’ve done more good than you realize.” Raising from his seat, the priest grabbed the drink and walked towards the exit.
“Sure, sure — whatever makes you feel better,” the necromancer burped loudly, “Good, bad, evil — they’re all shades of grey to me buddy. The only color that matters to me is green.”
After the priest and rabbi took their leave, I counted to twenty and followed. I tailed them from a safe distance. We walked down a dark and twisting alley. Parked underneath a broken street lamp was an aging hearse. It seemed all too comfortable in the darkness.
“Shall we?” Glancing back and forth, the rabbi opened the trunk. I peered behind a trash can, remaining hidden.
“Yes. It must be done. May God have mercy on our souls.”
They prayed silently for a moment. I had a hard time believing God was listening.
Holding the glass together, the priest and the rabbi held it over the trunk. A limp arm rolled onto the bumper. It was ashen white and thin as a rail.
“Hands up! Police department! Don’t move you sick fucks!” I burst from my hiding spot. Gun in hand, I ordered the pair to the ground.
They ignored me and turned their backs. I yelled again, but they acted as if I wasn’t there. Their actions were frantic, fumbling with the latches of a burlap sack. Taking decisive action, I tasered them both, bringing them to their knees. A yellowed scroll rolled out of the bag. The rabbi tried to reach for it, but I stomped on his hand.
A half dozen squad cars peeled into the alley shortly. They’d been parked down the street awaiting my signal.
“You fool! You have no idea what you’ve waded into. You’re dooming us all.” The priest screeched as he was cuffed.
“Please, sir. You must let us finish what we started. She cannot stay dead. The Dark Mother must live or we will all die.” Lips quivering, the rabbi begged.
“Enough! You’re finished. Whatever twisted rituals you’re caught up in are over. Take them away boys.” I motioned for the uniformed officers to place them in a squad car.
As they were driven away the two never broke their gaze. Their stares were mournful, tinged with pity.
After they were gone, I shuffled over to the car. A woman’s corpse was stuffed awkwardly into the trunk. She looks to be in her early thirties and had been dead for some time. Her face was frozen in an expression of joy — it gave me the creeps. I could have sworn her eyes followed me, but I chalked that up to my mental exhaustion. We’d been tipped off to her murder by an anonymous phone call, and I’d been shadowing the suspects for weeks.
I waited for the coroner to take her away. As they zipped her into a bag, I noticed the smile had grown wider. A cold shiver ran down my spine.
Three weeks later I was sipping wine at home when I heard a booming knock at my door. On my doorstep was a crudely wrapped binder, filled with a series a documents. Taped to the front was a letter crudely scrawled with a fading pen.
Dear Officer Franklin,
I do not blame you for what’s to come. You were manipulated by forces as ancient as time itself. That said, only you can prevent further tragedy.
I know you have the scroll with you. Something deep in your soul compelled you to take it home, which means God has heaved this burden onto you — just as me and my compatriot were called forth to duty.
One year ago a brutal exorcism was performed on a ‘Jane Doe’ in rural Alabama. The demon was unlike anything we’d previously encountered, and half a dozen perished during the ritual. That includes the woman, who succumbed to her injuries. A rogue priest battered her with a hammer after he lost his mind to the darkness.
Unlike other demonic entities, this one thrives in a deceased host. Its power grows exponentially when the body it inhabits dies. This entity is a world eater. It can summon forth calamities that will bring humanity to its knees. We were minutes away from ending that — but you stopped us. Now the torch has been passed to you. Will you heed the call?
The woman must be brought back. Her life must be restored at all costs. But first you’ll have to find her. If you call the coroner I’m sure you’ll discover the body has disappeared. As for The necromancer, Im sure she has already slain him. You’ll need to find another unwitting pawn to support our mission.
I’m sure you are reading this in disbelief — but you’re still reading. A light deep in your soul is starting to ignite. If you need further proof just turn on the news. I’m sure it has already started.
By the time you receive this letter, I will be dead. The Dark Mothers’ revenge is swift, relentless, and crushing. She’ll come for you soon enough — nothing can escape her gaze.
May God be with you. Don’t let the darkness consume your soul.
Regards,
Father Joseph Perryman III
I threw the letter to the ground. I’d received a number of communications from disgruntled criminals over the years, but this was the craziest. I was more thought disturbed that he’d been able to mail it to my home address.
Needing to calm myself, I clicked on the TV. A stern-faced reporter started back at me. The chyron scrolling on the bottom of the screen flashed with updates of numerous massacres in large cities.
“Scientists are flummoxed by a series of natural disasters that have struck, almost simultaneously across the globe. Millions are dead and even more are missing. This coincides with a striking rise of mass casualty events.”
I shut off the television. A knot formed in my stomach. Reaching for my phone, I dialed the coroner’s office.
“Paul, this is Officer Franklin. This is going to sound odd, but can you check on the ‘Jane Doe’ we brought in a few weeks back? I receive a tip that something might be — unmmm — odd. Yeah, odd….”
“You haven’t heard? We had a break-in early this morning. They stole everything, including all the bodies in cold storage. The FBI is here as we speak. You should come on by.”
I made an excuse about an incoming call and quickly hung up. My ears were ringing. I picked up the binder I’d discarded in the trash after receiving the priest’s letter.
BOOM. Another knock on the door. I clutched my service weapon and tip-toed toward the sound. Peering through a peephole, my heart sank.
A middle age woman with ashen skin and sunken eyes stood on my doorstep. She was blowing on her nails, seemingly bored. I knew that face — Jane Doe.
I hurriedly stuffed the binder into the backpack Id earlier stashed the scroll and fled out the back door. As I sped away in my car, I saw her smiling and waving. She’d somehow made her way onto the roof.
“You can run, but you can’t hide. Nowhere is safe. Once my father comes, nothing will be left. See you soon.” It sounded like she was whispering directly into my ear.
That’s how I ended up in a seedy dive bar on the outskirts of Chicago. A man who looked homeless joined me at my table. He smiled wide revealing a mouth full of rotted teeth.
“I gotta say you don’t look like my usual clientele. Don’t smell like them either. So, who is she?”
“That is none of your concern.” I laughed quietly to myself.