The Necromancer

Chapter 2

15 months later -

I was on the wall and I could see the zombies struggling to get out when they saw us humans in the open. They wouldn't burn in the sun but they would certainly lose their sight and while their rotting eyes literally melted and burnt, they would feel the excruciating pain. We were a team - us human - of strangers. It had just so happened that we were at the same place at the same time.

All of us were fighters. This was good for him and me. These people weren't stupid. They were only trying to survive, not kill us. So we saved each other and kind of became a team.

The zombies entered the houses and any place they could find in which the sun couldn't find them during the day time. At night, they normally came out and we herded in. If the walkers were still stuck inside or dead smart enough to wait for the humans, it was a piece of cake to lock them in some rooms or just finish them off. All we needed was a place to spend the night in.

The team had just met and decided that they had better chance of surviving if they stuck together. But at this stage, no one was ready to trust each other one bit, so we stayed at different houses. There were plenty of them, anyway.

My boyfriend and I had just confessed or something. We were pretty damn close. But I didn't know his name. I frowned when I thought of that. Why didn't we know each other's names? I knew that this was another dream. And I knew that this was the same guy from all those other dreams. If I asked his name, would he vanish? Would he never come to meet me again? That's why. I was afraid that all I would get would either be his name alone, or he and his name or nothing at all.

The reason he didn't know my name was because he had never asked. Honestly, just being with him was enough. After all, name is but another chain that ties thyself to thy mortal shell.

I trusted him and I knew him. Not knowing his name didn't matter much. But a name has power. Maybe I could use that power to actually find him. I shook my head. Being with him is what matters the most. I had faith that he would find me; we would unite, one way or another.

It was nightfall and we were in our room. Our temporary room. I knew that my mother had become one of the walkers; she had when the first wave hit. And we were close to that place again. I was crying into his chest. He was holding me and caressing my hair and face gently, soothingly.

I was glad that I had him. I loved him. And finally, all my emotions poured out.

"I love you," I said. "I love you so much and even in this shitty world, I'm glad that you're with me." Even though this is a dream. But I didn't say that.

"Shh, it's alright. I love you, too," he murmured and hugged me. But I felt that that wasn't enough. We didn't even know each other's names! I wanted to ask him his name, but I did something else. I kissed him. Our first kiss. My first kiss. He kissed me back once the shock subsided. We kept kissing each other, murmuring and promising each other that we would always be there for one another and love each other. Thunder rumbled in the distance and rain pelted down the windows. Even in this twisted world, everything felt perfect in a twisted way. I don't know what it was. Maybe the very dim, flickering light; the pitter-patter of the rain; the lightening as it tore across the sky; the thunder that nearly shook the earth; or maybe his even breaths and steady heartbeat, but I was soon asleep as I gazed at his half-asleep face. We both fell asleep around the same time, but when I woke up; it was into a nightmare because I knew that he was no more by my side, that I wasn't asleep anymore.

I woke up with a start. Even as I was brimming with happiness, vines of dread choked me. I had been having dreams of that same boy for months now. He would look different in each one, but I knew it was him, and his form would often flicker to reveal his true self; the boy I saw that day.

Perhaps it was my stubborn wistfulness that kept the boy coming, but the last dream was different from all the others. We kissed, and for the very first time. We confessed our feelings. It was much too much happiness, far more than I deserved. It filled me with worry, a persistent part of me whispering that this was the last dream.

I tried to calm myself. I sat still and listened to the sounds of the night filtering through the window. My bedroom door was ajar and I was quick to realise that my mother had looked in to check on me. The moonlight filtered in through the windows whose curtains I parted only at night. I tiptoed out of my room.

It was like I was the only one alive. When I peeked into my mother's room, I saw her still, sleeping form and I heard her gentle snores. I saw that in the next room, my sister was curled up, hugging herself. Seeing nightmares again.

I walked downstairs to prepare some iced coffee only to walk back upstairs and go to the balcony. It was peaceful. The city was asleep even as some of the lights illuminated buildings, billboards. The sky was murky, but some of the stars persisted and shyly peeked at the earth, flickering, dancing. It might have been the final dream, but it was a beautiful night.

Suddenly, a shrill, piercing sound got to my ears. I didn't panic. I was used to this. I often heard it, after all. It was of a very high decibel and yet, I would hear it. Other could never hear it. It was a hypnotic sound, and it deferred each time I heard it. Out of habit - no, a compulsion I couldn't resist, I tried to listen harder. Where was it coming from?

As the sound got louder, my vision started failing me. No. Everything was going out of focus... Save... Everything was black... me...