Necromancer
The rusted smell of an oncoming storm filled my nose as I got ready for a night jog. I usually hate running, but a storm always gets me real excited, especially at this late hour, when I'm already bouncing off the walls with energy. I pushed off from my front porch straight for the heart of the storm. The rain started out slow and soft on my face and gradually got harder, soaking me to the bone.
My bare feet hitting every puddle that I could find my heart racing with the adrenalin from sneaking out after curfew, from the sweet smell of the rain, and of cores from running for what feels like miles. I fell on my back in a random front yard and closed my eyes. I let the rain hit my face and body, embracing me like a mother's kind hug.
"AHHHHHHHHHHH!" someone shrieked from behind me, practically shattering my ear drums. My eyes flew open and I had shot to my feet without even realizing that I had. The shadow filled yard in front of me belonged to a house of legend. The legend started when I was about five years old. Apparently it used to be a mental hospital that tortured its patients when their families weren't looking. The neighbor said that they could hear screaming but every time someone reported it there was nothing wrong at the hospital. One day the nurses left and boarded the place up. The story around the neighborhood is that the nurses left the patients in there with limited food and all the sharp objects to eat themselves when the food was gone.
Another ear shattering shriek came from whoever else was out here with me. The person was getting closer to me, I was going to run away but my legs felt like jello and my fear had consumed me to the point of motionlessness. A harsh, bitter cold wind knocked me back to the street. I couldn't see anything that was farther than a yard in front of me, the only light was the moon and it was covered by the darkening storm clouds. A boy stepped into my vision. He is about my age, twelve, his eyes seemed to glow from the little light there was, and his hair was curly and dark like his grimy cloths.
Another scream ripped through the silent night, but it wasn't the boy's, it was mine. The boy was holding a long rope and at the end of it was what looked like a bloody body with muscle and bone showing. The boy ignored my screams like he couldn't hear me, "I'm Marzing and you are my best friend." His voice was the scariest thing about him, it sounded like he would kill you but he also sounded more like he is five instead of twelve. I did the crab walk backwards until I was up against a nonworking street lamp. "Be my friend," he screamed pulling out an extremely rusty scalpel, "or die!"
I got to my feet and tried to run but I wasn't looking where I was going and tripped on the curb. The ground came rushing up to meet my face; I flipped over like a pancake and felt the blood ooze out of my cheek. I tried to back away but there was no where I could go. I was trapped. Marzing lunged, "then you die!" The scalpel in hand aimed perfectly for my heart. I squeezed my eyes shut and whimpered, but when nothing happened but a funny feeling in my heart I opened my eyes. Marzing was stabbing me yes, but his arm just kept going right through me.
"GHOST!!!" I screamed and jumped to my feet. I ran right through him and across three front yards when something metal hit me in the head. I passed out feeling pity for the child called Marzing. He had just found out that he was dead and that he could do nothing about it himself. That was the night I found out that I was a necromancer.