The Necromancer
By
Neztro
Chapter 1: Under Review.
Under a greenish-black sky, I stood at attention. Looking up at the four people who controlled the forces of negativity.
Well, to call them people would be inaccurate. They were people. Now, their the symbol of death that is… a ghost.
They all shared the typical ghostish traits pale-blue skin that is practically a head which was made out of ectoplasm… the subtotal of a ghosts lifeforce. The only thing that signified a ghost was it's face and hair… the rest was so… interchangable.
"Jean Claude De Gilles. You have been brought before this council to discuss your quarterly performance review… do you have anything to declare?" the lead ghost read off a piece of paper which was probably written by his secretary.
Declare… anything to declare… no, anything that I'd have say wouldn't be fit for polite society. "no sir."
The ghost tapped his papers on the councils raised platform shuffling them. He's probably trying to look professional in front of the chairman.
A stray glance upward to the man who ran the entire army of the negative side was all it took to run a chill down my back… god I want a smoke.
"it says here you have been working for the last year in the capacity of necromancer in the town of brighton… Is that correct?"
I rolled my eyes in reponse, he knew all this, everyone here did as well… but the thing about being a ghost beuarcrat… you had to keep your paperwork straight. You'd think after you die all that trivial nonsense you did on earth would be behind you… but you'd be wrong.
"yes sir, that is correct."
The ghost nodded his head slightly and then flipped to the next page. This is why I hate review season… best four days of the year or at least they are after I'm done.
"now from the joy-o-meter it says that brightons joy is at an alltime low. As you know, it Is the job of the necromancer to not only act as support for the resident ghost but also to cultivate and maintain the negative emotions in their town… do you understand these tasks are essential to your role in the army of negativity. "
Oh I don't know Are they? what a waste of my time. I've been doing this for a year straight of course I know they're essential. I would have said that they don't treat other ghosts like this then I'd a liar and I don't like to lie when I don't have too.
"Yes sir, I know the value that my post has to the army's continued efficiency." Robotic, that's what my voice sounded like emotionless… fitting.
"yes well, with introductions out of the way I hereby call this review officially begun." he formed a gavel out of his ectoplasm and slammed down making an echoing thud.
"first item on the agenda the necromancers report for the last three months." the ghost said turning to an older looking ghost.
The one adjusted her glasses and looked over her papers… the old bag probably wore those things to look smart… you leave all illnesses behind when you die.
"you have formed a small band of minions who commit acts of terror across the town led by one andrea davenport." the emphasis she put on the an of the girls name made it sound like and instead of anne which was what she would prefer.
"that is correct." I said, my voice submissive, it made me sick that I had to suck up to these ghosts but it was the way things worth. You kiss your bosses ass… mine unfortunately was made of ectoplasm.
The ghost smirked. "quite resourceful of you… and if the report is correct the girl is aware of our existence and seems to not care… how did you accomplish such a feat?"
I would've liked to know that myself. Andrea was always a self serving girl and a bit of pompous priss. I knew she had a bullying streak in her but I never expected her to accept my offer of working for me...let alone believe me when I told her I worked for ghosts.
"I negiotated a sizable reward which I would personally compensate from my own resources." I lied to my bosses yet again and though I dreaded it, I knew that they would be suspicious if an answer to their question was not forthcoming.
"yes, sounds about right… onto you council 3."
The third ghost looked like some cartoony mayor, lots of extra fat on the jowls and nose.
"the second item on the report is the status of the rogue ghost one howling harriet." He stated doing the same as his co-councilmen and tapping his papers arranging them.
Ah yes, howling harriet… I still had no idea where the old bag was. Apparently she's been dodging reassignment since the new resident ghost was placed in her town. It's sad to say the least but refusing to move on is what makes a ghost who they are.
"I have been combing through my network of people to see if there are any confirmed sightings of her but it seems every lead I discover is just kids with overactive imagination."
The council mummered amongst themselves like I wasn't even there. It's days like this that make me hate this job more then I thought I ever could.
The first ghost turned his head toward me and cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. "the third and final item on the list is the discrepancies of your report."
"discrepancies? I'm afraid I don't understand, sir."
"it would seem that your report and the report of the resident ghost of brighton one scratch do not match up." the ghost then shuffled through his papers. "it would seem he was padding his scare record with fake names."
"I myself investigated the town records to verify this suspicious and I must say it looks poorly on you. As one of the five necromancers in the america's, we'd expect you to have a better control of the resident ghost."
Scratch, that idiot. He was the resident ghost of brighton. Of course he'd try and pull something like this… he didn't like to admit but he had a desperate need to be liked… the fool.
"the question is not of whether the discrepancy is existant but whether this was done with the necromancers knowledge." the third ghost said.
All the heads of the ghost council including the chairman turned their heads toward me. I gulped and took a step back. I had to think, I could tell the truth and throw scratch under the bus… but that would only be a temporary fix to a much bigger problem.
"Yes, I knew… but he told me it was only going to be a couple names… wouldn't even be noticed by your excellency." I bowed before the ghosts and trembled, I could do it on command… looking pitiful has helped me in more then one scenario.
The ghosts for their part seemed pleased with my display as they beamed at the praise for their competence… even though it didn't exist.
"well, we can't exacty blame you. Scratch has always been a conniving little worm of a ghost." the council muttered their agreement to each other.
"we'll leave his reprimanding to you. I believe we are done unless the chairman wishes to say something."
All heads turned to the black tower of the chairman. His seven foot tall slender body pitch black his face like an exploding star.
"I believe the first year of jean as brightons necromancer has been a resounding success." the chairman's voice was like nails that wracked the inside of my head. "even though he has had some hiccups in his first year, I believe he has been a useful addition to our team."
The ghost council entered yes man mode mumbling their agreement to the chairmans statement.
"But he must be wary, I sense that positivity is sending something to brighton to undermine our efforts… watch out for the overly positive jean… as a necromancer of this council, it is your job to stamp out any and all positive resistance."
I bowed before the chairman and made sure I did nothing to offend him. "it will be done chairman."
"good… dismissed." the ghosts teleported out and I was left alone looking up at the greenish-black sky. I sighed and turned my back to the platform. I then began mumbling to myself. The words of the spell on my tongue I focused on the fear I felt whenever I was in the same room as the chairman which allowed me to access my escape magic.
The green portal opened and revealed a living room… my living room. I walked through my portal and entered. Once I did the smell of lemon entered my nostrils… they had just finished cleaning. One look at my freshly waxed wood floors confirmed my assumption.
I didn't have much in the decoration in my house. No paintings or fancy wallpaper. My walls were plain white and my floor was wooden. I walk up to the one frivolty I allowed in my home… the mirror.
If t wasn't for the fact that it was a family heirloom then I would'vet trashed it. I don't like the look of myself in a mirror.
I sneak a glance and see just how broken I have become. My eyes have bags under them and when I meet myself in a staring match I can see how sunken and hollow they truly are. My posture went from a stiff robotic stance to a hunched over exhausted look.
I wore a suit of black everything the only sign of color was my white undershirt and cufflings. My hair was combed and clean when usually I left it to be a mess… a big black mess. I'll need to trim it soon… surprised the council didn't say anything.
The weight of today's events weighed heavily on my mind and my stomach rumbled… I knew what I needed.
"Homunculus! 1! 2! I call you to me!" I shouted to the kitchen area.
"Yes Master," was the reply.
My house was maintained by two magical constructs. Completely indiscernable from humans except for their behavior around me.
"1, I want you to prepare my dinner. 2, grab a pack of cigarettes and my lighter."
The two Homunculi saluted me and ran off.
If someone else saw a thirteen year old talk that way to a pair of adults they would be agast. But these weren't humans, they were toys, unfeeling, unimportant, toys.
I walk over to the coach and plop down. I undo my tie and relax my shoulders.
I notice homunculus 2 rushing toward me a pack of my favorite cigarettes Antonio reds in her right hand and my lighter in the other… it a skull motiff. Both the homunculus looked like an adult parent. 1 was the man and wore white button up shirt, blue jeans, and always had a pipe in his hands even though he never filled it with tobacco.
2 Was of course the woman, she wore a long pokka dotted white dress and had long blonde hair… which raised some questions due to neither of the homunculus having the black hair that I had received at birth.
I flick the pack and one of it's sticks pops out. I grab it and put it to my lips. My handshakes in anticipation as I hold the lighter up to the cigarette. I light up and inhale.
I let the sweet scent of nicotine enter my lungs and the feeling of ease is a welcome experience. I greeted the numbing of my mind like an old friend… not that I have any friends.
What most people get wrong about cigarettes people think we smoke them for the flavor when we both know they taste like garbage. That smooth, rich flavor is a lie and not the reason I or any other smoker enjoys cigarettes… we smoke because it calms us, numbs us, takes away the stress of our everyday lives… and for me their the one thing In life I'll miss when I die.