THE UNKNOWN, ISSUE 4: NECROMANCER.

Part 4.

#THE_UNKNOWN (A series of short horrifying tales)
   
Author: Sam Freddy
   
Issue 4: NECROMANCER.
   
Part 4
   
    Same day. 11:33 PM.
   
    I lit a cigar and filled a glass with red wine, pacing the room, thinking.
   
    Adesewa wasn’t here with me; she’d gone back home since we left the antique shop. In fact, it wasn’t her intention to leave me all alone tonight, but she had no choice than to obey the necromancer’s orders because I was meant to perform the ritual alone.
   
    7 more minutes to go. I was restless. I kept glancing at the wall clock while thinking, pacing, smoking and drinking, multitasking like a robot. Indeed, I was disturbed, and the only comforters I had at the moment were my reliable wine and cigarettes. Thinking about the necromancer’s instructions was a real burden for me, let alone executing them in a few more minutes to go.
   
    In her actual words, she’d said, “Listen carefully, child. At 11:40 PM, after the sun descends and the moon ascends, know that it is time to cleanse your conscience. You shall find your inner strength tonight; embrace the dark and turn off the lights. Light a candle and spray the incense; say their names, summon their presence. Place the items on the cold, bare ground; get on your knees and call aloud. Since signs and wonders are what you seek; marvel not when you hear the shriek.”
   
    I have to admit that I was, indeed, terrified when I heard those words directly from the necromancer’s mouth. Even though she spoke in parables, I understood every word she said. The instructions were crystal clear, but it sounded stupid to me.
   
    ‘How on Earth am I supposed to summon the ghosts of the dead through this nonsense?’ I wondered, exhaling thick smoke through my nostrils. ‘This is just plain stupid in all ramifications!’
   
    I was scared—REALLY scared. Despite the fact that the whole process seemed pretty absurd to me, I knew there was a high possibility of success from it, judging from what I experienced with my own two eyes at the necromancer’s shop, during the day. Even now, I was amazed at the occurrence. It was too real to be false. I was convinced that whatever I saw was unnatural, hence my determination to proceed with this illogical ritual.
   
    11:38 PM.
   
    I dropped my glass on the reading table and grabbed my cell. Adesewa was online, so I texted her.
   
    “Hey, I’m freaking out here!”
   
    “Calm down. It’ll be fine,” her reply popped in within seconds.
   
    “You won’t understand. Where are you now?”
   
    “In a bar, close to your house. It’s almost time, Sam, you shouldn’t be online.”
   
    “I know, but… I’m scared. I’m really scared.”
   
    “Relax. Just follow the instructions and you’ll be alright. I promise.”
   
    “Hm. Okay…”
   
    “Now get to work. It’s 11:39.”
   
    “Okay…”
   
    I dropped my phone and sighed as the clock struck 11:40!
   
    Quickly, I turned off the lights, threw my cigar out the window and dropped all the curtains. I couldn’t allow light into the room at all, as instructed.
   
    Having done that, I lit a single red candle and placed it at the center of my room, and after spraying the incense I’d gotten from the necromancer all over the room, I poured my family’s favorite belongings on the floor—including their pictures—and knelt before the burning candle.
   
    And then I started summoning them aloud with closed eyes, and a fearful, throbbing heart.
   
    Next thing I knew, a light wind started blowing across the room, propelling me to call out louder. Earlier, the necromancer had warned me not to open my eyes during the ritual, no matter what happens, unless I hear a subtle voice around me. There was none yet, so I put more effort in chanting, sidelining my fears, somehow.
   
    Strange feels still enveloped me, though. Every hair on my skin stood sharp. I could almost taste the sinister atmosphere in the room. I couldn’t see anything, but my ears picked things; subtle things I wouldn’t hear normally. Everything seemed to be creeping me out suddenly, and just when I thought I’d gotten all the spooks there was, a shrill voice called out to me.
   
    “Sam…”
   
    “Oh, my God!” Both my eyes shot open to see an entirely different place. I was aghast, spinning my eyes around to see who or what called, but all I saw was a mist surrounding the house. “Who’s there?”
   
    The thick fog couldn’t allow me spot anything of relevance, but the loud barking of my next-door neighbor’s dog told me that something odd was within the area. Just what it was, I was yet to discover.
   
    “Is anybody here?” I asked, with bated breath. “Show yourself, if there’s a presence here.”
   
    “Why?” the voice came again, mixing with the air like smoke, but quietly. “Why did you kill us, Sam? Why?”
   
    Now, it hit me. The voice, although low, was clearer this time. I figured its source instantly.
   
    “Dad?” I couldn’t believe it. Cold chills ran down my backbone. “Dad, is that… is that really you?”
   
    “You had better answer us,” his rather furious voice rang out, putting my heart to a halt.
   
    “Us?” I swallowed hard, looking back and forth, unable to see a thing. It was all I could do not to piss my pants now.
   
    “What’s the matter? Have you forgotten us so soon?” Dad’s ghostly voice tugged at my conscience, painstakingly reminding me whose fault their absence was. “Maybe we need to jog your memory, murderer.”
   
    And with that, the fog started clearing off, and the wind carried all the pictures on the floor to the right corner of the room, where the candlelight shone brightly, revealing three shadowy figures from nowhere.
   
    If I didn’t know better, I’d think I was dreaming, but I’d come too far to realize that all these happenings weren’t gimmicks. All I’d seen, and still seeing, were real as daylight. The lanky figure of a man stood tall, in-between two shadows, one a little girl with a messy bun, and the other a svelte woman with dispersing long hair, all holding hands before me. I didn’t need a Big Bang Theory to know whose family’s ghosts they were. Right now? Words were vital for this situation, but I had none. All the confidence I’d managed to build shrank at the sight of their shadows.
   
    “Shania, maybe you’d like to tell your brother here a word or two,” said my father, whose shadow looked outlandishly spooky. Not only his, to be exact. They all looked different from their actual human forms, weirdly.
   
    “Why?” Little Shania’s voice hit me. “Why did you kill us? Why?”
   
    “Shania…” I found my voice, whilst kneeling the entire time. “Shania… I… no, no, I didn’t kill you. I didn’t kill anyone. It was never my intention to cut your lives short. How could I possibly murder my family, knowing I have no one else to fall back on? No one else to love me like you all did? What would I… what would I gain from your demise? I was in the car, too, remember?”
   
    “Yes, you were, indeed, but who’s living now?” That was from mother, her tone sharper than ever, guilt-tripping me even more.
   
    “Mother,” I swallowed hard, again. “You couldn’t possibly believe that I’d murder my own family on purpose, could you?”
   
    “At this point, we don’t know what to believe anymore,” she said. “Who warned you to slow down that day? Who hammered on obeying the traffic laws? Who BEGGED you not to switch lanes, to avoid an accident? WE did! And now, you stand before us to plead not guilty?”
   
    At this juncture, tears battled their way out of my eyes. It was complete suffering kneeling and listening to the ghosts of your loved ones complain about your stubbornness, which led to their deaths. I felt worse than ever, since the whole occurrence. I had to let them know that I’d rewind time if I could, that I’d make things right if I had the means, but nothing I’d said so far appeased them, as I’d expected.
   
    “Yes, I’m at fault. I was irresponsible, stubborn and outright foolish. Maybe I suck for not heeding your warnings, maybe it’s the weight of the blame I carry that’s making me self-conscious about my past mistakes, but know this, I NEVER wanted to live a single day after what happened. When I woke up from a three-day coma, I hated myself so much and wished I’d died with you because I have no one left to live for. I still wish I was dead, and I was just going to kill myself recently, but Adesewa revealed that she knew how I could speak with you again, to seek your forgiveness. So, here we are.”
   
    “So here we are,” said dad. “I guess you assumed that your little pep talk would turn things around, but no, boy, it doesn’t work that way. To tell you the truth? You’re a stain on my legacy, and I regret having you as a son.”
   
    “So do I,” mom agreed. “You’re the worst son ever, and I should’ve just aborted you when I had the chance.”
   
    If words could kill, I’d be dead by now. I doubted that the pain of one getting butchered compared to what I felt now. This was beyond bodily harm, far beyond the pain of mere flesh. This was pure emotional trauma that ruined my mental health and tore me apart.
   
    “Shania?” I gazed upon her shadow, tears running down my face, hoping she thought otherwise. “You, too?”
   
    “Me too,” she attested. “You want our forgiveness? Well, here it comes.”
   
    Suddenly, their white eyes turned red, and as they began to disappear, the fog returned, and the wind worsened. The candlelight turned off, leaving me in total blindness. I got up quickly and ran to the door, pulling the handle with extreme force, but it didn’t yield. I was trapped inside, in the lair of potentially hostile ghosts. Thankfully, the lights were still functional, and the sudden brightness of the room helped me see the danger I was in.
   
    The shadows were gone, but their presence lingered inside, telling from the sudden uplifting of all the items in the room. Everything in the room started to rise, including my bed.
   
    “What’s going on?” I asked, afraid. “Dad? Mom? Shania?”
   
    I was on the ground before I even knew what hit me. The same stool that I once intended to use for suicide had just ‘magically’ slammed me to the floor, and the next was my reading table, moving fast in my direction. If I hadn’t dodged it on time, it would’ve smacked my face to oblivion. Getting up fast, I looked around, searching for an exit. My best bet was the windows, but I couldn’t get there. Why? There were dozens of sharp knives positioned at each one, just floating in the air, pointing at me with killer motives. These ghosts were furious, indeed. One wrong move could be the end of me tonight.
   
    “Dad, Mom, Shania, why’re you doing this?” I said, helplessly. “I’m still your son, your brother, for God’s sake. This has to stop!”
   
    “You don’t tell us what to do!” All their voices thundered, creating an echoing uproar, manipulating some knives towards me with great speed.
   
    I ducked and they hit the wall and dropped, while I remained that way, panting. I wanted to speak when the second batch started coming at me, much faster than the first. It was certain that there was no escape from this. My fate had been sealed, and all I had left undone was to accept it, so I shut my eyes tight and spread my arms out, preparing for the worst. I’d better just die and get it over with, I thought, when someone barged into my room and hollered, “Sam!!!”
   
    Opening my eyes, I saw Sewa coming right at me, pointing a rosary at the same spot the shadows occupied before.
   
    “Sewa? Oh, thank God!” I exclaimed, springing to my feet. “What’re you doing here? You shouldn’t be here!”
   
    “I sensed trouble, and I’m here to help.” She said, her free hand outstretched to me, as she looked around, pointing the rosary everywhere. “Take my hand and let’s go. They won’t harm us as long as we’re in contact with this blessed item.”
   
    I took Sewa’s hand at once. “Can you see them?”
   
    “No, but this cross won’t hold for long,” she warned, looking me in the eye. “We have to go, now!”