by Becket
Toags were one of the many castle servants. They were assigned the melancholy task of cleaning the dungeon, the hidden passageways, and the Perilous Nursery. And some nights they even had to clean Key, which was just a smidgen worse than having to hear another evil joke told by the two Grimbuggle Bedbugs, Bosh and Mr. Humbug.
There were two drawbacks to having Toags work in the Necropolis Castle. First: Toags were like dust bunnies, except that these dust bunnies were maniacal, homicidal, and the size of purple turkeys.
Second: Toags had no idea how to clean.
Ghost servants had to clean everything else, which mostly involved sprucing castle bedchambers, emptying chamber pots, sweeping chimneys, scouring cinders, cooking meals, polishing the silver, beating rugs, dusting cobwebs, washing clothes, scrubbing floors, among countless other tasks that the ghosts struggled to finish in a single night.
As Mr. Fuddlebee mentioned, the Necropolis Vampires forbade all ghost servants from appearing. Every ghost had to stay invisible. If a ghost appeared before a vampire, its punishment would be to receive the severe assignment of executing the most horrendous task in the entire Necropolis – which occasionally did involve executions. This punishment was far worse than cleaning the Tomb of the Tortured Tarantula, worse than cleaning the Grave of the Grim Goblin, and even worse than cleaning the Mausoleum of the Mostly Mutilated Mummies of Manchester. The punishment for any ghost servant who had the boldness to appear before a vampire would be to clean the Toag Cage.
That being said, there was one job that all servants had to do at least once in their undead lifetime, because it was the most important job in the entire Necropolis. It was more important than being President of the United States and the British Prime Minister rolled up into one. This highly important job was to feed the deadliest creature in the entire Necropolis – the castle cat, Warhag.
Ghost servants also lived in the dungeon with Key. She never saw them because they would not break the castle rule: They would not appear before a castle vampire, even if that vampire was only Key. It did not matter that the Necropolis Vampires rejected her; she was a vampire, too. They would not break the rule, partly because most ghosts were good, not wanting to break any rule, even if it were ridiculous, but mostly none of them broke castle rules because all of them feared cleaning the Toag cage. So every ghost servant stayed extra far away from Key.
Regardless of this, she could tell they were nearby whenever all sorts of odds and ends floated by, things like frying pans and buckets, needles and pincushions, forks and swords and crinoline, all floating through the air on their way to be cleaned in the Great Cauldron.
Key could also hear the ghosts whispering with one another. The whispers of the ghosts always echoed eerily in Despair. More than once Key tried speaking with them, but they would not speak with her either, since cleaning the Toag cage was an incredibly nasty business.
Key would have loved to talk with anyone other than the Shadow Spiders because they only wanted to talk on Tuesdays. So Key’s isolation, sadness, and loneliness were quickly becoming like sores – and she knew that sores can get very infected if left uncared for.
— CHAPTER ELEVEN —
Warhag & A Little History of the Necropolis
Key was not officially a prisoner of the castle because castle prisoners were usually sent to what the Necropolis Vampires called “The Torture Chamber,” although most people would have called it a library.
The final communication that Key received from the Necropolis vampires was a scroll written in blood from the Queen’s secretary, Galfridus Fish. On the scroll was a list of things Key was forbidden to do. She was forbidden to leave the dungeon. She was forbidden to talk with another vampire. She was forbidden to remove the chain shackling her ankle to the wall. She was forbidden to drink the same blood other vampires drank. In fact, there was only one thing she was allowed to do: Drink the blood of whatever she could find – which would have been Red Rodents, Shadow Spiders, Wicked Worms, Macabre Maggots, or even Grimbuggle Bedbugs, if she could catch one. But she refused to hurt any of those poor creatures, even if they were Bosh or Mr. Humbug. So she let herself starve in Despair.
Key spent many nights much more lonely than alone. Raithe and Crudgel had been her first visitors, and not many more came to visit Key for a long time after that. Yet to keep her imagination entertained, she listened to the eerie sounds of the Necropolis every night.
She loved the nights when she heard zombie horses charging across the castle drawbridge over Melancholy Moat. The chain shackling her ankle stretched far enough for her to climb up the wall and peek through a barred window. The window overlooked Melancholy Moat’s black water. Stretching as high up as she could go, so that she could just barely see out into the Necropolis, she would watch a band of castle vampires go charging off on their zombie steeds, out into Necropolis streets, seemingly on some important errand.
Ah, Key dreamed about going with them.
And in that dream, she also dreamed how someone else would come down into the dungeon to visit with her. She dreamed how they would say to her, “Come up from Despair! Come be our friend! Come be our family!” It didn’t matter to Key that the Necropolis Vampires had rejected her and had treated her so miserably. She still felt an urge to be their friend. She wouldn’t have even asked them for an apology.
Key had not seen much of the Necropolis, but from her carriage ride with Mr. Fuddlebee, she remembered that the City of the Dead was a grand gathering of tombs, graveyards, mausoleums, and many other kinds of burial places. And because of that brief memory, Key was becoming increasingly interested in knowing more about where she lived. But as the Shadow Spiders did not care about the goings-on outside Despair, and as the ghosts would not speak with her, Key grew very heavy hearted when she could not learn anything about the Necropolis’s history or about current events.
Then one night, when Key heard no noises coming from outside the dungeon, and when the Grimbuggle Bedbugs had stopped pestering her for a short spell, and when she had nothing else to do except think about all the things she had lost, and all the things she would never do again, Key’s heavy heart began to feel much heavier – perhaps the heaviest it had felt since the first night she came here, on her ninth birthday. So she lay on the ground and began to weep.
But her weeping stopped when, to her great surprise, she noticed that coming out of the darkness was a second visitor.
At first all she saw were those same beastly eyes shining with a violet glow. Through the darkness, the eyes crept closer and closer, and Key thought her end was coming. Then the beast came into view, and Key saw that it was none other than the castle cat, Warhag.
She had somehow managed to slip into Despair. Key had no idea how Warhag had gotten through the massumongous door to the dungeon, but she guessed that the cat no doubt knew all sorts of secrets about the Necropolis Castle.
Warhag now padded silently close to Key, like a lioness stalking prey. Then she sat just beyond reach, with the end of her tail twitching menacingly. Key took that as a warning that seemed to say: “Touch me and you’ll probably lose three fingers, if you’re lucky.”
Warhag’s fur was mostly orange. It had black swirls all over, black swirls around her eyes and mouth, black swirls around her legs and tail. Her coat looked as though it might have been soft a very long time ago, yet now it looked a little mangy, although Key would have never said so because she was not only polite, but also wise enough to avoid upsetting a Mystical Creature whose reputation had evidently given her the frightening name of “Warhag.”
The castle cat was also bedecked in jewelry. Her ears were pierced with gold rings. Her nostrils were pierced with diamond studs. And on the tips of her long saber teeth were silver caps that looked as sharp as daggers. It was clear to Key that all of Warhag’s jewelry had been booty from war.
But perhaps the cat’s most striking feature was her constant frown. It made her look untiringly miserable, even when she was happy.
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br /> Curiosity suddenly replaced Key’s fear when she observed that the cat had something clutched in her jaws. Is that a matchbox? Or some square creature? Key was greatly interested in knowing what it was, so she tried calling the cat over, holding out her hand in a friendly gesture. She was not only eager to know what the cat had, but she was also hopeful to befriend anyone, or anything – as Despair can make anyone desperate enough to attempt befriending even a fearsome beast such as Warhag the cat.
For a very tense moment it seemed as if Key’s gesture had somehow offended the cat because, without warning, her natural scowl worsened. She stared at Key without blinking, the slits of her feline eyes increasing her frightening glower. Warhag then licked her lips, which, as several slain creatures had glimpsed right before the end, was a sign that it was time for one of three things: battle, dinner, or petting.
So Key speedily, and wisely, withdrew her hand and sat perfectly still, watching Warhag watch her.
After that, the orange cat sat so still for so long that she seemed to have turned to stone. But just as Key began to imagine that Warhag was about to pounce upon her at any moment, the castle cat dropped the thing in her mouth, yawned, and blinked sleepily. Then, with the unhurried movements of a fearless predator, Warhag turned away and padded out of the dungeon as silently as she had come, apparently deciding not to eat Key for the time being since Warhag considered herself a very merciful cat.
From where Key sat, she could see well enough that Warhag had dropped a very little book. However, she had dropped it too far out of reach, as if to be kind at first, and then torture her. She tried stretching and pulling herself to get closer to the little book, but it was no good. The book was too far away and the chain was holding her fast to the wall.
Yet just as she was about to lose all hope, the little book began to move closer, seemingly all by itself. Key had no idea how this was happening. It was as if the little book was willing itself to draw closer to her outstretched hand, as if perhaps by magic. Then she remembered all the things she had seen floating throughout the dungeon, and she remembered the castle servants – the ghosts. With this in mind, Key had a sneaking suspicion that one of the ghosts, although still not appearing before her or speaking with her, was at least helping her.
The little book slid right up to Key and she hurriedly snatched it up, a little fearful that it might wander off by itself. Clutching it, she observed how it was so small that it fit right in the palm of her hand. But it wasn’t the size of the book that mattered, just how she read it. And she would indeed read this great gift. After all, one good book in Despair can be worth a hundred friends with kind words, although one act of kindness for someone in Despair can be worth a thousand books.
Had Warhag given it to her? She didn’t think so. Then who?
The cover was purple velvet with gold lettering. The title was Wanda Wickery’s History of the Necropolis - A Small Book With a Big Story.
Key decided that it must have been a ghost servant who had slid the book closer to her. So she looked up into the invisible air and she spoke to this ghost, this friend in the dark. “I don’t know who you are,” she said, her voice choking with gratitude, “and I know you can’t speak with me, but thank you. Thank you so very, very much.”
There was no response from the ghost, but Key did not need one. She opened the book and was about to begin reading, but she saw a little note inscribed on the first page. It read: A little light in the darkness. Mr. F.
Key did not need to think about who this mysterious “Mr. F” was, for she knew it must have been Mr. Fuddlebee. He had promised to come back, but if some reason prevented him from returning, then the least he could do was send this book. Key was very glad for his thoughtfulness. This was a precious gift indeed.
But then Key wondered aloud, “How did he convince Warhag to deliver it to me?” After thinking about this for a long moment, considering how Warhag did not appear to be a creature who would do many favors, Key came to the logical conclusion that some mysteries must remain unsolved for the time being. With her curiosity at least satisfied at present, she opened the little book to the first chapter, and she began reading.
Key would not have needed much light to read the book in the dark, as her vampire eyes could see much, even at the bottom of Despair. But she did not need her vampire sight for this book because, while it was indeed quite small with very tiny font, the words came alive with lights and shimmering dust. And as she read, the words leaped from the page and swirled around her and formed into shapes of the characters and things she read about.
She began reading about how the Necropolis started off as catacombs for a small group of Mystical Creatures – only one vampire, one witch, one werewolf, one ghost, and one zombie. After Key read this, the bright words leaped from the page and shaped into shimmering images of the story of how those first five Mystical Creatures were buried in an underground chamber.
Key turned the page to read the story of the first undertaker, Skulk, while more shimmering words swirled around her, making shapes of his work. She was not surprised to read how Skulk the undertaker struggled to keep those five Mystical Creatures in their graves. Some nights he was successful, preventing the Dead from leaving their coffins and causing mayhem. But most nights he was not successful at all. At least one of the five Mystical Creatures escaped nearly every night.
Yet they always returned to their graves before sunrise, usually bringing with them one new Mystical Creature, for the vampire made more vampires, and the zombie made more zombies, and the werewolf made more werewolves, while the witch found more witches and the ghost found more ghosts. Soon there were so many vampires, witches, werewolves, ghosts, and zombies living in the Catacombs that a Society of Mystical Creatures formed.
As the Mostly Dead population grew, the Catacombs turned into a village. In time, several Mystical Creatures rose from their graves to start a Grave Owners Association, which they called the “G.O.A.” for short. Eventually there was so much development that the G.O.A. renamed the Catacombs, “Necroville.”
The G.O.A. hired Dwarves to carve deeper into the ground, developing neighborhoods, schools, playgrounds, libraries, and general areas for the Mostly Dead to practice their sorcery, necromancy, and golf.
As time passed, and as countless more Mystical Creatures came crowding into Necroville for burial, or at least semi-burial, more Dwarves were hired and more space was carved out. The Dwarves carved down into the ground for the Mostly Dead while they built up for themselves so that they would have a place to live, as they were constantly working, for many Mystical Creatures were constantly dying – or at least mostly dying, either naturally or supernaturally. Thus the grand structure of Morrow Mountain began to take shape.
The population growth became a great deal of work for one mere undertaker to handle, as many vampires made many more vampires, and many werewolves made many more werewolves, and many zombies made many more zombies while many witches found many more witches and many ghosts found many more ghosts. Also, Mystical Creatures of all kinds were moving in and making homes among the Dead – creatures like Goblins, Hobgoblins and Bedgoblins; Elves, Dwarves, and Fairies; Brownies, Boggarts, and Pixies; Trolls, Ghouls, Poltergeists, Gremlins, and many, many more – and all of them either Partly Dead, Mostly Dead, or Fully Dead – Partly Dead like the Narrowly Departed Dwarves of Durham, the Slightly Slaughtered Pumpkin People of Paris, and the Nearly Annihilated Nymphs of Wales – Mostly Dead like the Hardly Headless Harpies of Hong Kong, the Barely Bloodless Boogeymen of Baton Rouge, and the Sort of Massacred Satyrs of Savannah – and Fully Dead like the Roughly Lifeless Zombies of Los Angeles, the Almost Alive Elves of Exeter, and the Nigh-Dead Pirates of Mexico.
As the population grew, Skulk the undertaker was quickly overwhelmed, for the village was overrun with the Dead not staying in their graves. Even the Fully Dead would sometimes rise from their coffins to pop down to the pub for Unhappy Hour.
The village soon became so over
-populated that Necroville expanded into a city – The City of the Dead – the Necropolis. And as Key read on, and as the shimmering words danced all around her, making twinkling images of the story of the Necropolis, she learned that it soon became the burial place for any and all Mystical Creatures, but no mortals. The G.O.A. put up a sign that read: NO MORTALS ALLOWED! They even went so far as to put a skull and cross bones on the sign, telling themselves, “That’ll scare them mortal folk.”
Yet almost overnight the Necropolis became so popular among the Mostly Dead that it was soon jam-packed with graves and tombs and crypts and mausoleums. Reading between the lines, Key found it quite interesting that graves were not graves at all, but more like apartments; and tombs were not like tombs at all, but more like houses; and crypts were more like mansions; and mausoleums were more like estates.
It was with the accumulation of such residents, and with the formation of such residences, that the G.O.A. finally asked Skulk the undertaker to retire. As a retirement bonus, he was given a gold watch and a free trip to Hawaii.
After his retirement ceremony, vampires took on the role of undertaker. They hired the Dwarves to build the Necropolis Castle and they gave themselves the title “Keepers of the Dead.” Beginning with the first Queen of the Necropolis, Modwenna, the Necropolis Vampires kept the Dead inside the Necropolis ever since, especially when the Dead had no desire to stay dead.
Key read and read until she began to feel very sleepy. She tried to stay awake because she wanted to read more, but her eyelids grew heavier and heavier, until she fell fast asleep on the dungeon floor, surrounded by the shimmering shapes of the book, for the sun had risen somewhere outside Morrow Mountain, where the dead were kept far out of sight underground.
— CHAPTER TWELVE —
A Bloody Business
