Necromanson (Beta) Chapter 3 (Patreon)

“I could swear you were cheating.” The corpse across from Henry said, taking a puff of its cigar. Henry found himself playing cards with three dead bodies, all teenage boys, all from one battle. Two were foreigners, speaking heavily accented English, while the third was a former member of Henry’s squad, Jessie.

The three of them were frozen in time, their wounds preserved just as they had been when Henry had seen them. Henry had aged, though, and the older, wiser man that he had become was taking them for all they were worth. “You boys just don’t know what you’re doing. Not to mention how ridiculously easy it is to bait you,” Henry said, sliding the pot he’d won toward himself.

“Boys, huh,” The squad mate sitting beside him with the gaping hole in his neck said. “True, not a lot of growing up in Neverland.” Jessie looked Henry up and down. “You’ve gotten fatter, I think.”

“Don’t you have to go to the light or reincarnate or some shit to do?” Henry shot back, pouring himself a drink from a conveniently placed bottle of Nyquil.

The corpse to his right blew smoke in his face. “Then who would haunt your dreams, friend?” the dead boy looked normal above the table. A bit pale, but normal. Beneath the table, his legs had been blown away by one of Henry’s mines, leaving nothing but ragged scraps of flesh.

Henry squinted through the smoke at him, his fingers tight on the cap of his Nyquil bottle. The boy without legs had never spoken to him before, simply sat across from him in sullen silence. Henry closed the bottle, setting it aside as he waited for his squad mate to deal the next hand.

“You guys are pretty talkative tonight,” Henry said, waiting for his five cards. “What’s up?”

“Special occasion,” Jessie said, dealing them in. “this is the last night the four of us can get together.” Henry raised an eyebrow as he peered at his first card, the king of spades.

“so, no more nightmares?” Henry asked tentatively.

The legless boy scoffed, and Jessie shook his head. “Afraid not, me and Abir here, are gonna go get internships. I’m going to be the north wind, and he’s planning on reincarnating as a mountain.”

“That sounds… like it would take a long time.” Henry said, glancing at the bullet riddled man across from him.

“Hopefully by the end of my time as a mountain, mankind will be better, or gone.”Abir the bullet riddled corpse said.

Henry got his second card, the four of clubs. “What about Leg-o-less?” he said, jerking a thumb at the corpse to his right.

The corpse slammed his fist on the table and leaned forward with a snarl. “I will haunt you until you die!” he said, his grip crushing his cigar as small embers scattered around his hand. “And my name is Halil!”

“Don’t forget, you stepped on that mine trying to kill me and my friends.” Henry said, flicking one of the embers back at him.

Halil narrowed his eyes, but remained silent.

“Halil wouldn’t be able to haunt you if you didn’t feel guilty, Henry, that’s how this works,” Jessie said, dealing Henry’s third card, a queen of clubs “Anyway, we’re all here today because something happened to you, buddy.”

“Tell me about it.” Henry said, checking his fourth card, a three of diamonds.

“You’ve been marked.” Abir said, exhaling a plume of smoke as he checked his cards. “A demon was born this night, and he’s going to come for you.”

“I thought he might be a Dracula,” Henry said, taking a swig of Nyquil.

“Dracula was a demon, but not every demon is Dracula,” Jessie said, dealing Henry’s fifth card, the jack of diamonds.

“So what’s the deal, why’s he after me?” Henry asked, throwing away the three and the four.

“That evil ritual strips away… I don’t think there’s a name for it in English,” Jessie said, scooping up the throwaways. “In Buddhism it’s that good juice that you get each time you come back.”

“Karma?” Henry said, taking his next cards, a king of spades, and another king of spades. “Now I’m not sure I’m not cheating.”

Jessie watched Henry’s brows furrow as he looked at his three kings of spades. “I don’t think we’ve got much longer,” he said, putting his cards down. “Henry, what’s your deepest, most childish wish?”

Henry’s eyes flickered up, and he met Jessie’s gaze. “I always wanted magic to be real,” He said, without hesitation. The three ghosts around the table smiled, two gently, and one with casual scorn.

“Here,” Jessie said, pushing his pile of chips towards Henry. “I’m not going to need this as the north wind.” Then Jessie stood, and with a nod to each player at the table, he walked into the nothingness that surrounded them.

Henry watched Jessie leave, his pile of chips creating a mound on Henry’s side of the table. Then, Abir stood and took a last draw on his cigar, before pushing his chips toward Henry. “The last fifteen years has dulled any hatred I had toward you. I wish you luck.” Abir turned and walked away, fading into the darkness as he did.

Henry turned to Halil, “What about you?” he asked, putting the bottle to his lips. Halil smiled darkly, his pale face illuminated by the light of his cigar.

“If we are not eaten,” Halil said with a shrug. “Then I will see you tomorrow night.”

“I take it they didn’t hate me enough to get eaten?” Henry said.

Halil shook his head.

“Nice to know somebody cares enough to get eaten with me.”

Henry opened his eyes, squinting as the fluorescent light of his cell stabbed his retinas. Henry lay upon a hard bunk, his mind pouring over his most recent nightmare. As nightmares went, it was more tame than others. Usually it was some variation of watching them die again, or being them: getting shot, blown up, or stabbed in the neck.

In Henry’s dream they had reached some form of rapport with each other. “Well, except for Halil,” Henry muttered to himself, sliding his feet off the side of his narrow bunk. Henry pushed himself up, holding his head as a momentary wave of dizziness plagued him. It felt as though he had been watching the world through a monitor, the sudden tilt in vision not reflected in his other senses.

The feeling passed after a moment, and Henry took a deep breath, glancing around the interior of his little room at the police station. A little camera completed the room, crouched out of his reach like a spider, pointing its beady eye straight at his bed. Henry waved at the camera idly, his mind chewing on the problem of incarceration.

It was true that being a prisoner meant it would be hard for someone to break in and kill him, but from what he had seen the night before, Henry was acutely uncomfortable with his location being a matter of public record.

Henry didn’t have to wait long. After about fifteen minutes had gone by, someone was buzzed in at the end of the hall. A loud clacking came down the hall, filling Henry with apprehension. The resounding footsteps came closer and closer, until they stopped outside his door.

“Place your hands through the door,” a voice intoned as a panel of the door was slid away, revealing the vests of two cops. Henry sighed and stepped forward, putting his arms through the door. He felt the cold steel of handcuffs clicking around his wrists, stealing just a bit of heat, and surprisingly more dignity.

They didn’t stop there, though. It wasn’t until Henry was wearing a chain connecting his hands to his legs that they let him step out of the cell. Outside, and just to the left of the cell stood stunning woman in a black suit barely capable of containing her. her eyelashes were long and dark, her eybrows naturally arched, her body… Henry flickered his gaze back to her face, not wanting to get caught drooling. Her eyes were large and brown, with soft, downturned eyelids. Her lips were full, slightly parted as they moved… Wait, she’s talking to me.

Henry shook his head and stuck his pinky in his ear, swabbing it out like an old farmer. “Sorry, you’ll have to speak up, My hearing hasn’t been that great since I was in the military,” Henry said, desperately trying to keep his eyes on her face.

Her eyes narrowed, but she repeated herself, louder. “My name is Athena Williams, I’ve been appointed by the court to represent you, Mr. stein,” she said, turning with a motion for him to follow. “Follow me.” And with that she was walking down the hall, the distinctive clacking that Henry had attributed to a man in the two hundred pound range spreading in her wake.

Dodged that bullet, Henry thought to himself. He caught the guards attention, raised his eyebrows, and mouthed ‘WOW’, his eyes drawn back to her rapidly shrinking figure as though she were magnetic. The big dudes on either side of him were either too jaded or two professional to engage with Henry, simply nudging him in the ribs to get him moving.

Henry hustled to keep up with his retreating lawyer. “So why was one appointed for me?” Henry asked, peering down at the dynamo commanding the center of the hall. “I can afford a lawyer.”

“You were unconsicous for two weeks,” She said, waiting impatiently to get buzzed out by the door guy. “During that time, your bank accounts were frozen. Trust me when I say that you can no longer afford a lawyer. You regained consciousness last night, and were relocated to your cell.”

Athena turned to glare at him while she pushed open the door. “And I suggest not talking about anything related to yourself until we are alone,” she said, pushing the door open hard enough to slam it against the wall.

“Oh,” Henry said, looking up at the cops holding his elbows. The guy on his right shrugged, and they followed after Henry’s lawyer. “So who picked Athena, your mom or your dad?”

“I suggest not talking at all until we are alone,” Athena said, without looking back.

“Bummer.” Henry said, trotting as fast as he could to keep up with her, the chains rattling noisily as he moved. Finally she sat him down in a little room with a steel table, like one of those interrogation scenes in Hollywood, albeit there was no one-way mirror. The grim-faced officers clipped his chains to the table, and that was it: He wasn’t going anywhere.

“So why don’t you tell me how you see things, and I’ll tell you how I see them,” Athena said, settling down across from Henry.

“The country is desperate to crucify someone for what happened, the court froze my bank accounts so I can’t afford a lawyer and made sure that they assigned an inexperienced junior to my defence?” Henry said, cocking his head to the side.

Athena froze for an instant before setting down a briefcase and opening it, withdrawing a pen and paper. “Something like that,” she said. “How long have you been living in the Yellow River condo, Mr. Stein?” her pen hovered over the notepad, just out of Henry’s sight.

“Since it was built,” Henry said leaning forward. “I helped build it. I don’t know if you’ve heard but I’m a hell of a plumber.” Athena’s eyebrow rose, but she scratched some notes on her paper.

“And what were you doing with half a million dollars stuffed into a bit of plumbing that evidence suggests resided behind the wall in the men’s rest room?”

Henry waved her off. “It’s a long story, let’s just say I embezzeled it as insurance that the shady people commissioning the building would pay up. I found out they didn’t act in good faith last night, and so I grabbed it and ran before I could get murdelated.” Henry glanced at her face, then at the rapidly scratching pen in her hand. “Could you do me a favor?”

Athena grunted, still writing. “What is it?” she said, her lips pursed in concentration.

“Could you figure out if Charles Manson escaped from prison and is at large?” Henry asked, watching Athena’s reaction.

Athena glanced up at Henry, frowning, before shrugging and writing down more notes. “And why do you mention him?” she asked, setting down her pen.

“Pretty sure he was there.” Henry said, crossing his arms. “Old guy with a swastika on his forehead?” Henry tapped his forehead. “Not a hell of a lot of those.”

Athena pulled out her phone, opening a browser. “Look, Mr Stein, I’m sure you saw what you saw, but we have to focus on your defense, I only have…” Athena’s words trailed off. “Manson, who was moved to a local hospital to treat severe gastrointestinal bleeding, disappeared the night of the Mercy hospital massacre, and is presumed to have used the confusion to escape. He is currently at large.”

Her gaze met Henry’s “Security cameras spotted Manson being herded into the building along with the rest of the victims,” Athena said, tapping her pen against the pad in front of her. “But they never recovered his body, and no one matching his description has been caught on camera since. Did you see what happened to him? It could be a bargaining chip during your case.”

Henry raised his hand to scratch the scar on his scalp, and the chain attached to his wrist jerked his hand short, nearly forcing him to poke himself in the eye. Henry cocked and leaned his head, scratching himself like a dog, his eyes rolled back in his head. Athena watched him with an expectant look.

“Nah,” Henry said, sitting up straight again. “You wouldn’t believe me. I know that sounds a bit cliché, but my testimony would get us laughed out of the courtroom.”

“Fair enough.” Athena said dismissively, returning her gaze to her paper. “The largest piece of evidence the prosecution has against you is the submachine gun with your prints on it. Would you care to explain how that happened?”

Henry’s brows furrowed. “Wait, you’re just going to move on when I say you wouldn’t believe me?” he asked, the muscles in his neck tightening. “Aren’t you supposed to say that you’ll believe me, because it’s your job? That I can confide in you, and that you’ll do your damnedest to clear my name?”

Athena shrugged. “You’re an adult, Mr. Stein. If you think something would harm your defense, it’s your prerogative to keep it under your hat.”

Henry sat and tapped his fingers, nearly overcome with the urge to tell her all about the supernatural side of the mass murder-suicide. He felt like a kid who could hardly stay in his seat during show and tell. Was it Athena? Henry had kept his mouth shut in front of pretty ladies before, but Athena was making it hard. I mean difficult, Henry corrected himself with an inner smirk.

“Something funny?” Athena asked, eyeing Henry askance.

“No, Ma’am.” Henry snapped to attention.

Athena opened her mouth to speak, and a knock interrupted her. With a furious scowl, she tromped up to the door and cracked it open, speaking in hushed, angry tones. “I don’t care if the room was double booked, we were here first,” She said, he voice rising. The voice on the other side of the door didn’t change, speaking placidly just beneath Henry’s hearing. “Then tell him to come tell me himself!” Athena slammed the door shut, returning to her desk and packing her suitcase.

“Didn’t get a goddamn thing done.” Athena said, neatly filling her briefcase despite her anger filled movements. ”They’re throwing so many wrenches at us, I’ll be surprised if they don’t find a way to stop me from attending your trial.”

“That bad, huh?” Henry asked while Athena fumed.

“Tonight you can have a visitor for an hour between five and seven, I’ll be there.” Athena said as she slammed her suitcase closed. “Here’s my card.” She passed him a card with her name and office number on the front, and her cell handwritten on the back.

Henry nodded, tucking the card in the sleeve of his shirt. “See you tonight I guess,” he said as Athena slammed the door open, bowling the two security guards out of the way. Athena nodded to him on the way out, then she turned the corner and Henry heard her distinctive footsteps fade into the distance.

“That doesn’t bode well,” Henry said, considering the abruptness of her departure.

A cloying smell assaulted his nose as the two guards came in. Henry’s eyes widened as two corpses stepped into the room, wearing guard uniforms. Their skin was flush and healthy, they moved as though they had complete autonomy, and yet, Henry Knew they were dead men who simply didn’t know they were dead.