These restrictions had proven useful for Sebastian when doing his bidding for the dead. But now the necromancer wanted else. He wanted a chance to speak with Dina. To acquaint himself the way he wished he had when he had the chance.
Sebastian understood that while he could not grant her the spell of Harkin for long, he needed more than the restrictions of Moor would allow. And it was with that that Sebastian took a deep breath, performed the ritual of Harkin, and brought Dina Malloy back to life.
She woke up, slowly, and with a groggy poise. Dina lifted her legs and sat straight, realizing that she was still wearing the same clothes as she had since morning. That was, assuming it was still the same day.
“How long have I been out?” she asked the stranger beside her. A face of whom she did not immediately recognize.
“A few hours,” the necromancer said. And Lord help him, he couldn’t help but smile.
“What’s so funny?” Dina asked, tilting her head as though overcoming a ferocious headache.
Sebastian shook his head.
“Nothing. It’s just really good to see you after all this time.”
Dina stared at the strange man for a moment.
“I think I recognize you. Wait a minute. Oh my God. Oh my God! Sebastian!”
Without sparing another second, Dina ran up to the necromancer and gave him a hug, slinging her arms around his shoulders. Her touch was cold, devoid of any trace of warmth. But Sebastian didn’t mind. His entire face blushed into a bright ball of pink, radiating more than enough heat to keep them snug.
Sebastian’s smile lit into a beacon of joy. He placed his hands gently on her back, and enjoyed the way she felt.
If ever there was a day that Sebastian Grimm could claim his most memorable, this would most certainly be it.
Chapter 5
The Necromancer’s Second Chance
“What do you mean I'm dead?”
There are many ways for reunions to begin. This, is perhaps the least common.
For much of the passing minutes since their reintroduction, Sebastian Grimm had had to explain to Dina Malloy the unfortunate facts of her undead condition. And as always, he did so rather incompetently. With the stuttering and the hesitance and the overall emptiness for words. Though now only more so, since explaining it to someone he once knew meant the added pressure of judgment. This, of course, did not help matters. And neither did the fact that he had to explain a spell he had never used before...save for today...and the day he resurrected Dina’s dog.
“Well...I...uh...I mean...you're dead.”
As with any given tale, it is always best to move forward to the events that matter the most, and forego those with little significance. This is why I am bringing us forward yet again, dear reader, past the sea of exposition into the land of what this chapter is truly about.
“I can't believe we're seeing each other after all this time,” Dina exclaimed. “I never thought we'd meet after high school.”
“It’s so great to see you again,” Sebastian said. “You look good.”
It was a complement not devoid of truth, but then again not something that Dina Malloy wanted to hear. For it made her believe just for a moment, that she was still alive. And the crushing realization that she was no longer made the reality even more difficult to bear.
“Is there anything you can do? You know, to make it so I don’t have to die again?”
Sebastian sighed hopelessly.
“I wish there was.” And this was true. “As it stands, I can only let you stay for a few hours before I have to undo the spell.”
“Why?”
And at this the necromancer squirmed, shook underneath his clothes, and knew in the end the only way to make her understand would be to mention...
“Do you remember Cutter?”
“Cutter? You mean my dog?”
“He was the first one I’d used the spell on. After he died that day from the snake bite.”
But Dina shook her head.
“He didn’t die. He was just sick for a few minutes. No. He got up and...”
And then it came to her.
“That was you?”
The necromancer nodded.
“So all that stuff that happened to him afterwards. The sickness, the drooling. The not being able to move. That was all you?
“Not that I have any desire to take credit for that. But yeah. I thought I could bring Cutter back the way he used to be. But I couldn’t.”
“So this whole time you’ve been able to bring dead things back to life? And you never told anyone?”
“No. I tell pretty much everyone I ever happen to bring back.”
“Do you bring dead people back often?”
“I do. Whenever I have to arrange a funeral, I have a few words with the dead and ask them what they want before they go. I think of it as closure for the people that need it the most.”
“That’s,” Dina said, and her eyes observed the basement littered with medical slabs and dead bodies preparing to be embalmed. “That’s so noble of you.”
Sebastian felt a tickle in his gut.
“Thanks,” and the necromancer chortled.
“What? What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. It’s just that, for as long as I’ve been doing this, you’re the first one who’s ever given me a compliment.”
“I don’t believe that,” Dina said.
“It’s true. Here, I’ll show you.”
And with that Sebastian Grimm summoned from the dead one 68 year old Joseph Hunter. A frail old man lying beside the basement stairwell, naked save for the blue sheet of cloth draped over his body. Dina stood back and watched as Sebastian prepared the spell of Moor, and brought the dead man back to life.
“Where am I?” the man grumbled.
“In a funeral home,” Sebastian replied.
“Why?”
“Because you’re dead.”
“Dead? What do you mean I’m dead?”
“Dead as in not alive.”
“You mean dead as in still alive and talking?”
“The only reason we’re talking is because I can raise the dead.”
“What about her?”
“She’s dead too.”
“Hi,” waved Dina.
“Anyway, I brought you back because I wanted to know if you had any last wishes that you’d like to see carried out. Maybe something for your funeral.”
“I want to get out of here.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re dead.”
“Ah. I know what’s going on here. You’re trying to scam me out of my estate aren’t ya? You think because I’m old I’m stupid. Well you aren’t getting a dime from me you mangy con artists.”
“Is there anyone you would like to see in your funeral?” suggested the necromancer.
“Well, come to think of it I did always kind of want Dean Martin to sing at my funeral.”
“I’ll have some songs ready for the service.”
“Ah but that man could sing like no one else. In fact, I still remember the time when...”
The egg timer went off, cutting the old man midsentence.
“See? Not a word of thanks.”
“That was amazing,” said Dina.
“What was?”
“What you just did. For him.”
Sebastian’s cheeks gleamed red.
“You think so?”
“Of course. What you do here, it’s really incredible. I don’t know what I would have done if I could do what you could do. You know, raising the dead and all that. But I can’t think of any way to put it to better use. I’m impressed.”
And it was with that that the necromancer came to see his life from an all new perspective. He didn’t need a different path. In his search for something new, all he’d done was neglect the marvels of that which he already had. But now he knew better. And it was all thanks to Dina Malloy.
“Now how can I help you?”
Chapter 6
The Necromancer’s Friend
In the days when Dina Malloy was still alive, she’d served as an accountant for PJ Jorgen, a small Swedish business that manufactured socks. She was a valued employee of PJ Jorgen, and the various plaques she’d earned over the course of her prospective career proved this case. She was punctual, responsible, and organized at all times. Traits that granted her the greatest respect of her employers, and traits that unwittingly led to her untimely end.
For two days prior to her death, Dina Malloy had discovered an anomaly within the company’s financial records. Certain expense reports were gone from the company ledgers, and receipts had gone missing. As a matter of being organized, she scoured high and low for an explanation as to the missing money. She stepped into her boss’ office (her boss being none other than the owner of PJ Jorgen himself, Hans Jorgen) in order to inquire of the dilemma. But as a matter of punctuality, she arrived just in time to see the boss’ son, Madds Jorgen, rifling about his father’s desk. File folders on one hand, and financial records on another.
The short of the long was that Madds Jorgen had been embezzling money from his father’s company into a dummy account wired to his own back pocket. A recent endeavor, and one that had remained discreet until gambling debts and ill-placed investments forced him to up the monetary ante to his swindling.
This, Dina came to learn, because when pushed for the answers, Madds had no choice but to confess, and to hope that his explanation of things would gain her sympathy. Understanding that the truth was now at the hands of his father’s most beloved accountant, Madds Jorgen offered a proposition. He would share with her half his ill-gotten gains, and in turn Dina would look the other way. And here, perhaps most importantly of all, it was a matter of responsibility that she declined, and demanded that Madds tell the truth to his father.
In tears, Madds agreed. And in addition, he pleaded that Dina hold for only one day before informing the proper authorities. Out of the goodness of her heart, Dina agreed. A mistake that she would soon come to recognize as such. The next morning, as Dina was preparing to leave for work, a burglar broke into her home and had her killed by way of collapsing bookshelf.
The burglar wore a ski mask in order to hide his face. But Dina caught the eyes of her killer, and she recognized the man without a moment’s thought.
“It was Madds,” she said.
Sebastian leaned from his seat.
“Are you certain?”
“Yes. Absolutely. I know it was him. I’d recognize him if I saw him anywhere. We have to tell the police immediately.”
But Sebastian shook his head fervently.
“We can’t do that.”
Puzzled, Dina questioned, “Why not?”
“Because we can’t give the police a confession from someone who’s already dead.”
“Oh. Then what?”
“I have a friend who investigates these kinds of things.”
“You do?”
“If I tell him that Jorgen is our guy, he’ll be able to find him. After that all we need is the evidence to put him away.”
“There are ledgers in my office,” Dina offered. “If I can get to them, then you’ll have everything you need. At least, it’ll prove that the records are inconsistent. That implies motive. And the rest practically writes itself.”
A capital idea at first mention. Though it did not require much in retrospection to see why this might not have been a wise idea after all.
“We can’t let anyone see you now that you’re dead.”
There was that, and then the fact that the necromancer needed her nearby to undo the spell of Harkin. Given her condition, the funeral home was the safest place for her to be. If anything were to happen and she was gone, then the spell of Harkin would destroy what was left of her body.
No. The necromancer could not allow himself another mistake.
“Absolutely not,” he said in as resolute a tone as he had ever come to muster.
“I’ll be discreet.”
“That doesn’t eliminate the risk.”
“I’m the only one who knows how to get the evidence, and where.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you leave.”
“Look, you’re doing this to help me. Let me help you help me.”
“You can do that by staying put.”
Upstairs, the telephone rang.
“Stay put,” he said, and ran up the stairs in time to catch the call.
“Hello?”
“Did you get anything from our dead girl?”
It was John King.
The necromancer supplied the details as he had them.
“Madds Jorgen you say? Well that doesn’t surprise me one bit.”
“Why not?”
“Because for a man who’s unemployed and estranged from his family, he’s been doing pretty well for himself. Or make that, too well. All I need to do now is look into his books, and we’ll get everything we need to take him down.”
“Dina says all the records are in her office.”
“Duly noted. I’ll go pay a visit to the PJ Jorgen HQ ASAP.”The detective dropped his phone long before the necromancer. And in the time he had before returning to Dina Malloy, he went up the attic and recovered his yearbook, thinking that they would pass the time reliving old memories. He took the stairs back down to the floor, and then down to the basement. And there he found that he would not in fact be reminiscing of the past, but cursing the present, as Dina Malloy was nowhere to be found.
Chapter 7
The Necromancer’s Runaway
Life is a journey of endless pursuits. Some simple. Some not. Some trivial. And some important enough to alter the very course of our lives. But for all the variety in which our dilemmas present themselves, the expeditions set before our path serve as reflections to that which we are, and that which we hold most dear.
Take for instance, that at the dark hour of seven in the evening, John King made his way to the US offices of Swedish sock company PJ Jorgen, in order that he may fulfill his role as private investigator, and in the grand scheme of things collect a handsome paycheck. It was also at this hour that Dina Malloy ventured into the offices of PJ Jorgen, in order that she may retrieve the evidence of her case, and in the grand scheme of things put away her murderer for life.
As for Sebastian Grimm, the necromancer hurried his way to the front desk of PJ Jorgen in order that he may find the corpse that had escaped his basement, and in the grand scheme of things make up for the many missed opportunities of kinship he had had with his childhood friend. He worried that if he didn't find her in time, then someone else would. Or worse, she would remain alive long after her time was up.
Sebastian walked to the woman in the front desk and asked her where he could find Dina's office.
“I'm a relative, you see. And I wanted to pick up her things before the funeral.”
“Dina must have had a really big family,” mused the front desk receptionist. “You're the third one today that's asked for her office.”
“Third?” Sebastian spat. Internally, he hoped that neither among the two were Dina Malloy herself.
“A tall man came by earlier. He said he was her elder brother. That is, a brother from another mother. Then there was a peculiar woman who had her entire face wrapped in a scarf. Said she was Dina's sister.”
Sebastian kept himself from mouthing Dina's name. There could no longer be any doubt that she'd made her way inside the office. And John King was somewhere inside as well. Not expecting either one to be in Dina's office, the necromancer predicted disaster if John King were to ever find out on his own that she was somewhere around and about. Not only would it put into risk the private investigator's private investigation, but the detective himself was deathly terrified of seeing corpses alive. If ever the two were to meet, the necromancer would most certainly never hear the end of it.
; “Can you tell me where they are?”Sebastian asked.
“Two floors up, down the hall to your right. It should be the second to last door.”
“Thank you.”
And with that the necromancer took to the stairs, skipping as many steps as he could along the way. When he arrived, he noted that the entire floor was empty. There was no one there, and yet the lights were on. Rows and columns of cubicles and office desks remained of what had once been office spaces. And like anchovies or fresh servings of vegetables, they were left untouched.
Sebastian wasn’t surprised. It was after work hours after all. He imagined that for those observing regular terms of employment, they clocked in at nine, and out at five.
In the sea of problems that he had now to resolve, it was good to know that he wouldn’t have to worry about witnesses as well.
Sebastian followed the attendant’s directions until he found himself at the end of the hall. There he saw the back of a woman with a scarf draped over her head.
“Dina!” he called.
Dina turned around.
“Ssshh,” she said, index finger placed over her lips.
But the necromancer wouldn’t have any of it.
“What on Earth are you thinking showing up here?”
Dina shushed the necromancer again, making clear her intent not to listen.
“No, you have to listen to me.”
Dina shushed again.
“You don’t understand how important it is that you...”
Dina shushed again, though by now it was evident that her attempts were fruitless. She opened the door to the maintenance room beside them, and pulled him in. The room was dark. As Dina shut the door behind her, all trace of visibility shrunk to nil.
“What are we doing here?”
“I’ll explain it if you just keep quiet.”
She flickered on the light switch. And despite her attempt at installing silence, this did the complete opposite. For hiding in the same room as them was John King. And in the moment before they realized this, they flinched, they startled, and they screamed. John King’s was louder yet, because when he realized who his fellow trespassers were, he remembered that one of them was supposed to be dead.
“What are you doing here?” Sebastian asked.
“What is she doing here?”countered the private detective, as though his was the real question in the matter.
“Who are you?” Dina interjected.
The Necromancer's Reunion Page 2
