Necromance

by Armand Rosamilia

  "I know where your sister is," she said and grinned.

  "Not interested. I already have someone with the information," I said.

  She didn't flinch. "I also know where the Necromancer is."

  "You're lying." I really, really, really wanted to stab her pretty head. If she was messing with me, I'd make her suffer first. "Where?"

  She laughed. "Do you think I'm an idiot? Why would I just tell you? Bargaining is so much more fun."

  "Not really. I have things to do." I took a step back and aimed the stake at her chest. She had a nice chest, which I decided to stare at instead of her eyes. She'd try to suck me in again. "Give me the information and I'll spare you."

  "I have a better idea. You go and kill that worthless Fiend, come back and I'll give you the information. It's up to you. Do you want to know where your twin is, or where your father is? I would think daddy is the bigger fish to fry, no? He knows you're looking for him. It won't be easy to find him. Unless you have the information I possess. Now, either stab me or go do my bidding."

  "Don't tell me what to do," I said and looked up into her eyes.

  Too late, she realized her mistake and tried to charm me. The stake fit nicely right between her eyebrows, shattering her forehead and dropping her back to the bed.

  When the two men came out of the bathroom, still giggling, they looked confused. They wouldn't remember me or anything from the last hour of their lives, which was great. I didn't hate them or even care what happened to them. The cops? They'd try to figure out which one of the men, in a jealous rage over having to share her, ended up stabbing her in the head. Then the search for the weapon would begin; although, any cop worth his salt would eventually figure out there have been several killings over the years with the same weapon. I travel state to state and quite randomly, but eventually they'd catch up to me. Trying to explain I'm not killing innocent citizens, but demons and devils, won't really do much for my case other than a quick side trip to the loony bin. I pulled my stake out of her head. These things were too precious to leave behind.

  "Give me your wallets and any money in your pants pockets," I commanded the two men. They complied, picking up their pants from the floor and handing over their wallets. When I found $32 in cash I frowned, but it was better than nothing. I could gas up the Charger after I'd gotten the information from the Fiend, and be on my way before anyone remembered me.

  * * * * *

  "Sonofabitch," I mumbled. The cops were crawling all over the original seedy hotel parking lot, but I knew it didn't matter. The Fiend was long gone, and he'd left nothing for me to follow. Which meant I'd been double-crossed, a common thing these days. Didn't anyone, man or demon, keep his word?

  Now, when I caught up with David Coverdale, I'd enjoy killing him, after I got the information about my sister. One relative at a time, and I decided, then and there, to make sure I destroyed all of my kin before taking out dear old dad.

  I think he'll be real proud of me in that respect.

  Necromance 3:

  Holiday in the Sun

  I've been to Daytona Beach and Orlando before. A couple of years ago I extinguished an Imp uprising near Tampa. It was not pleasant. Those horny little monsters loved to flit around you and undress their victims. I lost an awesome Iron Maiden concert shirt that day.

  Now, I was just north of Jacksonville and not happy. I was also out of gas. Stuck, no gas and no money and no closer to finding out why I was even here. It was too hot and I was too cranky. I needed a place to stay, and fast. With my red Charger parked on the side of the road on I-95, I knew it would be towed. Unless I got some help, and fast.

  I did what any chick with a great ass and nice rack would do: I tied my black t-shirt (always black, this one a vintage Judas Priest concert shirt) to expose my flat stomach, pushed out my boobs and stuck my ass out as far as it would go. Before my thumb was in the proper hitchhiking position, a Ford F150 had pulled over and a big burly dude jumped out, spitting a wad of tobacco onto the road.

  "In some trouble, pretty lady?"

  I didn't know if he was being a caricature and cliché on purpose, or if Bubba was really like this, but I didn't care right now.

  "Yes. I ran out of gas and I'm broke."

  "Where you headed?"

  I really didn't know how far I needed to go. It could be the next exit or Key West. When I get The Itch, it is never specific. Hell, I never even knew who I was trying to find. I just knew some bad ass creature was out there, somewhere, and I needed to find it and put it out of its misery. Before it killed a shitload of innocent people. "Downtown Jacksonville," I decided. "To see a friend, but I really need my car."

  He looked me over with lust in his beady eyes. He was a big guy, and I imagined his big hands running all over my tight body. He was cute in a simple Working Man kinda way. Yep, I’d sleep with him.

  "Maybe for a ride to the nearest gas station and five gallons of gas we could work something out," I asked, knowing before I was done talking he'd see the look in my eyes and know he'd hit the jackpot.

  "Sure thing. Climb in." He led me to the passenger door and held it open for me. Such a gentleman. He stared at my ass as I took my time sliding into the seat.

  "I have a gas can in the back," he said proudly, as if the gods were shining down on him today. He began to drive but couldn't keep his eyes off my chest. "How, um, big are they?"

  What an idiot, I thought, but I humored him. It was kind of cute in a way. He obviously didn't have too much experience with women. "Big enough to get your big hand around."

  I thought he was going to run us off the road for a second. I need to learn not to be so bold when the other person has my life in his hands. "Can I turn on the radio?"

  "Sure thing, yeah," he stumbled. "Help yourself."

  I turned it on and the horrible sounds of country music blared from his speakers. I hit his presets but it was more of the same crap. "Doesn't Jacksonville have a rock station?"

  Bubba shrugged. "I only listen to country music. It's the best."

  I turned off the radio. We were at the next exit already and I saw signs for three different gas stations. I was hoping we could do this all fast so my car wouldn't be towed. I didn't want to think what I'd have to do for a towing bill. He was already going to overcharge me for the gas, I was sure.

  "Will five gallons be enough, you think?" Bubba asked me when he pulled up to the gas pump.

  "That would be awesome," I said and smiled as big as I could. I really did appreciate the help, and I tried to remain calm and hope I could get away with a blowjob and would not have to break his nose if he tried to rape me. I'm in great shape but this guy weighed twice what I did. If push came to shove, I'd have to stab him with the silver stake. But I didn't want to do it. I just wanted some gas and to be on my way, wherever the road took me.

  I didn't get out, which was probably rude, but I was getting sweaty with the truck off. He kept staring at me as he filled the gas, his face scrunched up like he was trying to think of something interesting to say to me. By the time he was done filling it he'd given up and I offered nothing. I was being a bitch but I just wanted to get back to my car.

  Bubba put the gas can in the pickup bed and climbed back in with a smile. "I'll have you back to your car in a jiffy."

  "Thanks, I really appreciate this. I really do."

  We drove back in silence. It was awkward. For him. Not me. I knew what I had to do but was going to let him try to set the terms of our verbal contract. He pulled his pickup behind my Charger, hopped out and got the gas can. I followed him back to my car, where he poured in the gas. I got in and started it up. "Very cool of you," I said. I left it running while I asked him where he wanted to go.

  "Why?" he asked.

  "You honored your end of this so I need to honor mine."

  Bubba shifted from one foot to the next. "Nah, I was just being neighborly. You were in trouble and I helped. I don’t need, um, anything else. You have a great day."


  I smiled. He was playing shy. How cute. "Look, is there a quiet place we can go somewhere nearby? I'll pay you and we can part. Sound like a plan?"

  "No, not at all." He started walking backwards toward his truck. "Seriously, I think I need to go now. You have a great drive and enjoy Jacksonville."

  He ran to his truck, jumped in and got the hell out of there, leaving me standing in shock. They always hemmed and hawed but in the end they couldn't wait to see me naked. Was I losing my touch?

  I got in my car and took off, trying to catch up with Bubba. Now I was a little annoyed. I had no idea what I was going to say when I caught up to him but I was going to give him a piece of my mind. That was a definite.

  He took an exit ahead and I sped up, doing twice the speed limit on the bend. I loved this car. He crossed through a green light and pulled into what looked to be a little diner. I got caught behind slow people (doing the speed limit) as the light changed red, but I could see him. He walked inside.

  By the time I pulled into the parking lot and walked inside, he was already sipping coffee and staring at the menu. I slipped into the booth across from him and smiled.

  He looked like a deer in headlights.

  "Hey, Bubba. Mind if I join you?"

  "What do you want?" I could see the fear in his eyes.

  I put a hand on his but he recoiled like I'd bitten him. "I don't want anything. I just honor my promises, and I promised you something."

  "I don't want it anymore. Please leave me alone."

  The sensible part of my brain was screaming for me to apologize and walk out and leave the poor guy alone. I should have. But that small part of my head is always overpowered by the rest of my jumbled thoughts. I can be pretty headstrong, and pretty arrogant, especially when it comes to sex and guys wanting me. It's a curse, I tell ya. "Are you gay?"

  "Huh? No," Bubba said loudly, eliciting looks from several patrons.

  The waitress came over with a frown and blatantly looked me up and down. "Can I get you something?"

  "No thanks."

  She tapped her order pad with her pen. "You need to order something."

  "Fine. How about a coffee?" I asked, annoyed.

  When the waitress walked away, Bubba sipped his coffee and looked out the window. "How are you going to pay for coffee? I thought you were broke."

  "I guess I'll be washing dishes."

  He turned back to me. "What do you want? More money? Are you going to say I raped you?"

  I laughed. "Why would I do that? I seriously want to have sex with you to clear my conscience." Now I was really laughing. "God, that sounds so pitiful."

  Bubba grinned. "I had no idea I was so attractive."

  "Don’t flatter yourself. This is about me. It's always about me."

  The waitress came back with my coffee and a refill for him.

  "Can I get the chicken and gravy with grits and two orders of bacon?"

  "Sure thing, sweetie." She looked at me.

  "I'll have the same," I said.

  I don't think I've ever eaten grits in my life, and had no idea if gravy on chicken would be good, but I did love bacon. Who doesn't love bacon?

  "How are you going to pay for that?"

  I shrugged. "I'll just eat and bolt. No big deal. I'm not from around here. They'll never catch me," I said half-joking. I'd ordered on reflex when I saw the waitress was still being smarmy to me. "I'll be in Alabama before they know what hit them."

  "Who are you visiting downtown?" Bubba asked, changing the subject.

  I really had no clue, but I couldn't tell him. "My twin sister works there."

  "You have a twin?"

  "Yeah, don't look so shocked."

  Bubba sat back. "I'm trying to imagine two of you. Scary."

  "Go to Hell," I said with a laugh. "What about you? Where are you heading?"

  "Back home. I live nearby. I'm returning from work; I do the overnights at the beer plant in town. Good job but the hours suck."

  "You married?"

  Bubba looked away. "No. I live with my girlfriend and our kids."

  "A family man. Nice. Is that why you won't let me pay you back?"

  "Yes," he said and went back to his coffee. He glanced at me. "I'm not gay. I like women, but I'm not a cheater."

  "I like you, Bubba."

  "My name is…"

  "Shhh. You are Bubba to me."

  "You never told me your name," he said.

  "You can call me Red. If you don't mind, I'd love to sit with you and have some grits and chicken and stuff before I leave."

  "I'm fine with it." Bubba pulled out his wallet and checked his cash.

  I put up a hand. "This meal is on me."

  "You have no money."

  "I have a commodity to barter," I said simply.

  "I can't let you do this."

  "Trust me. Sex is no big deal to me."

  "Are you a prostitute?"

  I laughed. "Not even close. But I'm not uptight when it comes to sex. We all do it. We all enjoy it, but we're afraid to talk about it. No sense to me. I'm honest with myself. I like men. Women, too."

  Bubba looked away, his face red.

  "Sorry. My bad." The waitress dropped our food on the table. It looked really good and I couldn't remember my last decent meal. Before she left, I smiled sweetly at her. "Is the manager here?"

  "Sure, I'll get her."

  Bubba grinned.

  "What?"

  "Looks like you're washing dishes."

  When the manager walked over and smiled, I winked at Bubba. "I don’t think so. What kind of pie do you want to bring home to your baby-mama? This meal is definitely on me."

  I stood and stared at the manager and she knew exactly what I was thinking.

  * * * * *

  Her name was Louise and she was into men and women, but right now she was only into me. I didn't have to coax her out of her uniform. She had it off as soon as we got into her office and she locked the door behind her. It was like she was waiting for me, and already hot. Which was fine with me. This was no longer about paying for a meal or being even with Bubba, this was about sex.

  "I want you," she said and hopped up onto her desk. Papers hit the floor and she almost knocked her computer over in her rush.

  "I like that," I said and sat down in her chair, getting closer to her. This was going to be fun. She grinned and lifted her legs and I leaned forward in anticipation.

  I felt her knees lock around my neck the second before her thighs began squeezing my face into her. Her fingers, before touching my red hair, were now wrapped around my locks, helping to smother me.

  When I tried to push off of her, she wouldn't let go, choking me and cutting off my air. She was strong, way too strong for a mere human. I was in trouble.

  Despite my struggling, I was nowhere near being freed, and I started seeing stars. I was now too weak to bite her or get her to stop. My arms were tingling and I felt my knees give out. Her legs tightened even more.

  I don’t know if it was a knock on the door, but something happened and she loosened her grip for only a second. It was all I needed. Still fighting, I managed to pull her left leg off me and gasped for air. I dug my fingers into her thigh and lifted up, forcing her into an awkward position on the desk.

  Three punches to her ribcage released her legs and I grabbed her right one, twisting it and turning her over, where I attempted to bend it in an unnatural angle and break it for good measure.

  Her body form changed suddenly, shimmering as her flesh flowed and remolded into a gelatinous blob of purple flesh.

  "I hate Doppelgängers," I said between breaths. I pulled what might now be an arm and held it down while I tried to breathe.

  * * * * *

  Neither male nor female, Doppelgängers are creatures who can take the form of anyone they see for a decent period of time. It was obvious this one knew I was here the entire time, and had become the manager. I needed to know why, and how did it happen I fell right into the trap
?

  I dragged it to the floor and grabbed my purse, pulling the silver stake from it. "I'll use this on you unless you turn into something that isn't so damn gross and talk to me. And, if you turn into me, I will kill you in a heartbeat."

  Doppelgänger's thought it was cute and unsettling to become their potential victim, as if seeing a mirror image of yourself would keep you from attacking. The one second delay might be your doom, but I didn't care. I'd stab myself in the gorgeous chest if I had to. The fake me, not the real me, obviously. It turned back into the diner manager, pain etched on her face. "Please, don't break anything and don't stab me."

  She (I'll call her a she now) was afraid of the stake because of the religious connotation. The sharp end and the fact it was made of pure silver was the real kicker. Silver was the only substance which would burn them. I have no idea why and I never bothered to ask. I just knew it worked.

  "I won't kill you if you tell me who sent you."

  When she looked confused, I smiled. "How long have you been hiding here?"

  "Years. I'm not bothering anyone. I'm under the radar. I haven't killed anyone. I swear."

  I believed her. A Doppelgänger wasn't necessarily a harmful creature. Unless provoked, they'd just as soon run away. I'd spooked her by being here. They lived by taking over the features and, eventually, the identity of humans, draining them of money and whatever else they could find before moving on to the next victim. They were creatures of opportunity.