30 Hours to Nowhere: a collection of short stories

"The Necromancer in the Butcher Shop"

A/n: I was going to flesh this out into a series, but I ended up not doing that. Maybe I will in the future, no one knows.

"You come here everyday." I smiled, placing the slab of freshly cut pork on the scale. "How much meat do really need?"

He chuckled, looking down as if embarrassed. "I'm just waiting for you to give me a discount."

"Yeah," I lifted the piece and gently wrapped the paper sheet around it, "not happening. $4.38."

"Damn." He pulled out his wallet and handed me a five. "You happy?"

"Very." I handed him the bag and his change in return. "Have a good day, Clyde."

"You too, Isaac."

He opened the door to leave, allowing me to feel the crisp winter air leak into the shop. "Hey," he said, turning on his heels. "Um, would you like to, uh, come to a movie with me sometime?"

"Oh, uh, sure."

"Cool, I'll, you know, see you tomorrow."

"Yep, see you."

He left, closing the door behind him.

"God!" I proclaimed, collapsing onto the counter and rubbing my arms uncomfortably. "I've made a fool of myself, haven't I?"

I sighed before rubbing a disinfectant wipe down the counter. Humming to myself, I entered the freezer, ignoring the chill, and grabbed a pig stomach that I had stashed away.

I clicked my tongue. "Fido."

There was a bit of shuffling, the rattling of a chain, and a low growl in response. The muzzle of a dog emerged slowly from the dark shadows in the back of the freezer. Half of his fur was matted or had fallen off, revealing flesh that had yellowed with rot, or had completely shriveled and disappeared.

The dog's jaw unhinged, like a snake, in anticipation. I threw the stomach at him and he chomped down on it tightly before he flung it around and tossed it back into the darkness. He glanced at me again with glossy white eyes and disappeared with his meal.

"Fido, I'm going to go look for her at the lake again."

There was no answer, so I left, grabbing my coat and scarf in the basket behind the counter.

The air chilled me as a met it, seeping slowly into my clothes as I walked with my cold hands in my pocket. A few drops of blood were still on my fingertips; just enough, I hoped.

The atmosphere was filled with a thick fog as I approach the edge of the water. An old wooden sign sat, broken in half and buried in a bush, with the words "Rachel's lake" written in red across its face.

I took my bloodied finger and drew the crude shape of an eye onto my palm.

"I call upon the abyss beyond and the oblivion here after." I whispered, closing my eyes and sitting on my knees just before the water.

"Blind here lay, broken things
Whose souls are blind here too."

A grave voice deep within my head repeated me, but in some ancient and forgotten language.

"Blind always to you, blind to me.
With souls bound to sightless graves."

The voice slowly became louder and more of a mimicry of my own, repeating me still in its own language.

"Beckon them to see again,"

I placed my blooded hand into the water, letting the cool, blue liquid leech the red from my skin. I gritted my teeth as a surge of pain climbed up my arm.