Necromancer

Chapter 1- Little Issa

"Issa? Where are you?" Silence.

"Issabeau?" Called her mother once more. Meanwhile, little Issabeau was braving her steps towards the basement. Her favourite toy- the small brown dog with the pink ribbon wrapped around its collar, was in there. She knew it was. But she could hear the voices again. They were getting louder as she took each step closer to the door of the basement. Some voices, she didn't mind. But others were too loud and aggressive, usually scaring her into running to the safety of her parents. She glanced at the basement door. I can do it. I can do it, she thought to herself, squeezing her fists together. She did not want to rely on her parents all the time. She was no coward.

Yes, it was an ordinary looking basement- quite modern in fact. The door was painted white to match the rest of her home, nothing like the old and dark wooden doors in horror films, yet it felt so unwelcome to her. It still summoned that same feeling of dread. Issa didn't like the feeling she felt when she was near the basement. Her heart pounded ten times faster, her breathing grew heavier, and sweat began to pool under her armpits. Her hands were shaky and clammy as she reached towards the door knob. With a slight twist, she heard the voices again.

"OPEN IT. JUST OPEN IT AND HELP ME," a voice yelled in desperation.

"I'M BURIED HERE! HELP, I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME!" Yelled another.

"Little girl, come dig me out of this dirt. My body needs to be put at rest."

"Little girl-"

"PLEASE."

"Why don't you-"

"SHUT UP."

Male, female, she couldn't tell anymore. They all blurred together, sometimes too many voices in her head for her to even make out full sentences from them. She knew they couldn't touch her. They couldn't hurt her in any way other than words, yet their voices sounded so scary most of the time. They wanted things from her, always eternally asking for help, yelling over one another to get her attention.

She didn't know how to help even if she could. They'd ask for things a little girl like her couldn't possibly know how to do. Some asked to pass on messages for them, some asked to get reburied in a better location. Some were evil, whispering all the horrible things they've done and didn't regret. Some simply wanted to tell their loved ones one last goodbye, whilst others did not want anything from her. They just screamed and screamed, as if they were in denial of being dead.

Footsteps quietly padding down the basement steps, she held on to the railway in case she slipped. This would be the worst place to slip. Issa didn't want to be trapped with some other souls who were hanging about the basement near their dead bodies. Why don't they leave? Why can't they just move to someone else's house! She thought, but she knew the answer already.

***

A tall man in a suit stood at the corner of her bed. Weirdly enough, she was not scared. She felt a warm energy from him. Issa asked, "How come you like to stay in my house? Don't you want to move somewhere else?"

The man's soul replied, "I used to live in this house. I may move wherever I wish on this Earth, but my wish is to stay here, as this was the house I grew up in. I am in search of a letter from my wife. I was supposed to read it before my death, but I died before I ever got the chance."

"Where is the letter?" Issabeau asked.

"On the second floor, in a little drawer in your parents' bedroom. The one with a key. The key should be attached to the underside of the drawer, if you could so kindly get it for me." Issabeau ran to her parents' room and followed the man's instructions. She knew what drawer he was talking about. His parents always considered throwing it out as it was no use to them, but Issa felt like it belonged with the house, so she convinced them to keep it. Besides, it was always a fun game for her to try to find ways into opening the drawer.

When Issa reached her parents' bedroom, she reached for the key under the drawer. It was there the whole time! She pulled the drawer out, retrieved the letter and handed it to him. His hands shook as he held the old paper, eyes eagerly reading each line. A tear dropping down his face. Souls can cry?  She thought. "I have been waiting all this time for you to be of an age where I can ask you this favour. I knew if I asked too soon, you'd probably have been frightened. Thank you, Issabeau," the man said, and with that he faded until he disappeared completely.

Some days she thought of that man, wondering if he was gone for good or resting somewhere happy. She hoped he was happy, but at the same time she missed him, for he was one of the few less demanding and very kind souls she interacted with.

Now she was stuck in this house with the rest of the souls who wouldn't want to leave, because they had some kind of unfinished task they were waiting to complete. Some just hung around her house in the mindset that if they stayed long enough, Issa would do their bidding. The souls she really felt bad for though, were the ones that didn't even remember why they were stuck in the first place. They couldn't recall why they were stuck on Earth, floating around unseen by everyone they loved. They didn't know where else to go, or who to come and find, because they didn't know what they were missing. So they were stuck there for eternity until they accomplished that missing part of them, or that unfinished task. Some of them asked her for help, but she never knew how. That was up to to them to discover.

***

She ran straight past the scary bearded man, who kept yelling at her to uncover his body. She ran past the weeping lady, and the aggressive woman screaming for her attention. Her eyes darted for the shelf, in search for her favourite toy. Her palms were sweaty, and fear gripped onto her so strongly, she knew the souls could feel it too. Once she spotted him, she snatched him from the shelf and ran back up the stairs, quickly shutting the door.

Finding her parents in the kitchen, she asked, "Why did you leave Brownie in the basement?! You know I don't like it there, it's scary." Issa trembled whilst clutching her toy. Again, she knew the answer to this question, but she wanted to complain anyways. Hopefully they'd feel bad after seeing her like this.

"You know why, Issa. Sweetie, you have to learn to face your fears. They cannot touch you, nor harm you in any way. They're just souls. Lost and wandering," her father said. Issa looked behind him, to the grotesque face of a man in his 60s. He looked so real, so horrible, with blood oozing from a crack on his head. I wish he picked a better look. He glared at her. "Why don't you help me?" He whispered coldly.

I wish someone would help me, she thought.