I Fell in Love with a Necromancer (The Necromancer Book 1) Read online

  I Fell in Love with

  a Necromancer

  Sarah WaterRaven

  Published by Raven’s Hollow Art and Publishing

  Copyright 2019

  ©Raven’s Hollow Art and Publishing 2019.

  All Rights Reserved.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. Please do not resell. The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal. Please purchase only authorized editions and do not encourage piracy. Thank you for your support.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  I’m Dead

  The Necromancer

  One Big Happy Undead Family

  Family Outing

  So Many Dead Things

  This City is a Graveyard

  All Souls’ Night

  Samhain

  Jailer of the Dead

  Summoned

  The Nameless One

  A Voice in the Veil

  Death and Mischief

  More Death, Less Mischief

  One More Sunrise

  Dead End

  Echoes

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  About the Author

  Other Books in this Series

  I’m Dead

  I couldn’t look at my body anymore. Honestly, it was a mess. My skin had changed color, my lips were blue, and I was naked. I couldn’t think of a more disturbing sight, except maybe that time I walked in on my parents—that was pretty bad.

  I decided to leave the morgue and walk around the hospital. Initially, I had yelled and screamed at the coroner as he examined my body. Frustrated and exhausted, I had finally given up. I cried. I won’t pretend I didn’t, but in my defense, wouldn’t you?

  The hospital was fairly generic, the kind of scenery one would expect from daytime television. As I roamed the quiet halls of the morgue, I tried to recall how I had died or even the ambulance ride to the hospital—if there had been one—but a storm of fog and blurry images would cloud over me and I had nothing tangible to grasp on to.

  When I reached the elevator, I waited for someone to come along and push the call button. I might be dead, but that didn’t mean I was stupid. When I realized what had happened to me, I, of course, had tried to touch things, and just like every ghost movie I’d ever seen, my hand had passed through. I didn’t have a physical body. It made sense I could pass through objects, but, being new to the spirit world, I had no idea if I’d be able to take the elevator. I wasn’t sure where I was headed, but it was clear there was nothing for me in the morgue.

  In an attempt to keep my thoughts from spiraling into the unknown, I started to read the fliers taped to the wall beside the elevator. I was surprised to find out the hospital had a curling team, but not surprised to see articles discussing the negative effects of smoking. I may not have remembered the ride in, but I’d been in enough hospitals to notice groups of doctors and nurses huddled together on breaks in clouds of smoke and conversation. It had shocked me to see so many of them smoking. You’d think they’d have seen enough suffering and death each day to want to avoid it, but I guess that could be the reason for the habit too. Coping was something I’d never really been good at either.

  I’d been so focused on reading, I hadn’t noticed a woman had passed through me. I’m not kidding. Someone walked through me and I hadn’t so much as flinched. It was when I turned to check on the elevator that I saw her standing quietly in her kitten-covered scrubs. I jumped back, thinking I’d scare her, but of course she couldn’t see or hear me, so it didn’t matter. I couldn’t help but wonder: if a ghost startled in a hallway and no one was around to see it, did it happen?

  Sighing, I stepped closer to her, ensuring I’d make it onto the elevator. A familiar ding told me our ride had arrived. I stepped in and hoped I’d found my way out of there.

  My elevator buddy picked a wedgie and then pulled out her phone. I briefly wondered how many other embarrassing moments I’d soon be privy to when the elevator signaled our arrival. The door opened, and we both made our exit. We appeared to be somewhere in the vicinity of the ER, which should be on the first floor. It seemed like some luck had finally found me. Everything about being dead was disorienting. I’d never felt so helpless and stagnant, but being able to leave this awful place was putting a little pep in my ghostly step.

  I came across a viewing window and looked in to see if I could find my parents in the waiting room. None of the faces were familiar, not even my own. I had no reflection. I stared into the semi-reflective surface, looking for my dark hair and brown eyes. I could see my elevator buddy leaning against the wall behind me, playing Candy Crush on her phone, but I simply wasn’t there. I might not have a stomach anymore, but looking for a reflection that wasn’t there really made me nauseous.

  I had to get out of there. I hesitantly stepped into the waiting room wall, anticipating resistance or some kind of feeling, but nothing happened. I passed through the wall like it wasn’t there, because the truth was, I wasn’t there. Freaked out and unable to handle the existential thoughts that started pouring into my mind, I ran through the waiting room and straight for the doors.

  Outside, I bent over thinking I might vomit, but the feeling soon passed. I ran my fingers through my hair and looked around. It was dark, but a line of light on the horizon told me the sun would soon rise. I found the thought comforting.

  Without thinking, I headed toward a bench next to a bus stop and sat down. I wondered if I could ride a bus, just as I had ridden the elevator, but realized unless someone else showed up, the bus might not even stop. Out of frustration and mental exhaustion, I put my head in my hands and moaned.

  “What the hell is going on?” I shouted.

  “You’re sitting on a bench,” a woman responded.

  “What?” I blanched, sitting up. A pink-haired young woman wearing a black jacket with random patches had walked past me. I couldn’t believe it. “Did you hear me? Can you see me?!” I shot up, not realizing at the time that I had successfully sat on a bench.

  “Oh, shit,” she exclaimed unhappily.

  “Oh my god. You can! You can see me!”

  “No, no I can’t. I’m just listening to a really engaging podcast,” she replied as she pointed to her earbuds. Her pace quickened as she continued down the street.

  “Wait,” I said, walking after her.

  She pulled a hoodie over her wavy pink hair and shoved her hands in her pockets. “I’m late for class. Have yourself a great afterlife. Goodbyyye.”

  “But you can see me. You know I’m dead. You have to help me,” I pleaded, catching up to her.

  “This is what I get for being late. I can’t believe I thought it would be a good idea to take the shortcut by the hospital. I should have just been late to class,” she muttered to herself.

  “What?” I asked stupidly, not understanding why she wasn’t freaked out by me. My hand passed through her as I attempted to grab her shoulder, and she screamed.

  She clutched her shoulder in pain and then snapped her fingers. I hit the ground and cried out, pain riddling my body. “Stop!” I begged. She snapped her fingers again.

  “Don’t ever touch me again. If you refused to go with the angel, that was your choice. Now deal with it.” She stormed off.

  I shook my hea
d and slowly got up. I realized I was crazy to go after her, but at the time I thought I had no other choice.

  Silverbrook was a decently sized town tucked into the west side of the Canadian Shield. We were large enough to have our own university, but small enough that we weren’t littered with large high rises. This early in the morning there weren’t too many people about: the odd jogger, dog walker, and early commuter, but that was about it—though I did notice the fast food drive-throughs had already started to fill up.

  I kept pace with the strange girl but held back about seven to eight feet. I had no idea what she’d done to me or how I’d hurt her, but I had to find out. She was the only person who could see me and possibly the only one who could help me. I needed her to tell my parents… to tell them that I was okay. Well, mostly okay.

  I ducked behind a garbage can, slid up beside a building, and even tucked and rolled, just like in a spy movie. Not that anyone could see me stalking a young woman, but I didn’t want her to see me. She finally slowed down and let her grey hoodie fall, revealing her curly pink hair. It was vibrant against her black jacket and swept across a large stitched white rat on the back.

  I dug it, I mean, I was still a young man and when I was alive, she would have been my type. Weird rat jacket and pink hair... I wondered if she was a gamer, but before I could make any guesses, she took a quick turn, and I lost her.

  I sped up and marveled at my ability to go fast or slow without effort. I just had to think about running and away I went, no huffing or puffing, no feeling of resistance. It was bizarre and amazing. Once I turned the corner, I stopped and jumped behind a bush. I watched her make her way onto the university campus and followed her in the light of early morning.

  Unlike town, the campus had a lot of activity. Students were making their way to classes, waiting for buses, and loitering in groups, holding coffee cups and talking. As I looked around, I realized I’d never be a part of something like this. I’d never get to go to university or get a job out of school or start a family. I shook my head and shoved all of that aside. First things first, follow the pink-haired girl.

  She entered a building and quickly made her way into the open doors of an auditorium. Having never been on a campus this size, I gazed in awe at the number of students. While she seated herself in the front, I decided to sit in the back row to inconspicuously keep an eye on her.

  I realized quickly I should have remained standing; a guy that smelled like day-old beer and ham sandwiches sat in me. Disgusted, I stood up. I waited for the last couple of students to enter and sat down once the professor came in and shut the door.

  It took me a minute to realize I was able to sit down. While the professor began to drone on about musical theory, I began repeatedly pressing my finger into the armrest. It kept passing through. I stood up and sat back down three times, each test resulting with the same outcome. I was somehow able to sit, but still unable to physically touch anything with my hands. A guy had literally just sat IN me, but I had no problem sitting?

  I should clarify here that while I could sit, I couldn’t feel it. There was no soft cushion against my bony butt and no sense of weight from my body pressing into the seat. Realizing that, I started to feel nauseated again, so I tried to listen to the lecture instead, which was debatably worse.

  An hour later, I discovered that while I could fall into the dark bowels of boredom, I couldn’t take a nap. I wasn’t tired. No matter what I tried, I was unable to fall asleep. I guess with no body, there was no point in sleeping. I had retained two things from this lecture: this class was about music theory and the professor tapped his foot against the podium when it was getting close to the end of the hour.

  With a sigh of relief, I watched students slowly pack up and decided to wait in my seat for pink-hair to notice me. She stood up and stretched, revealing she hadn’t pulled out a notebook, laptop, or tablet for the lecture. I eyed her suspiciously, wondering how she planned on retaining all the information, when I noticed she had some sort of weird mic attached to her phone. She must have been recording the lecture. Seeing that, I mourned all the naps I could have taken in high school. Why hadn’t I thought of recording my classes?

  As she made her way up the aisle, I sat up straight in my seat, unsure of what to expect. Would she stare daggers into me? Scream or yell at me like a lunatic? But she didn’t do any of those things. In fact, as she walked past, she didn’t even look up. I watched pink-hair put her earbuds in and wondered if she could still see me and if this morning had been some kind of fluke... but no, it couldn’t be. She had seen me. We had somehow hurt each other, and she’d mentioned something about angels. I tried to recall images of half-naked winged people, but nothing came to mind.

  There was no way I was staying for another lecture, so I continued to follow her. Once I’d cleared the building and it was obvious we were headed off campus, I caught up to her.

  “Hey, could you tell me where Collins Lecture Hall is?” I asked, running up just behind her.

  “Yeah, we just passed it. It’s just—DAMN IT. Didn’t I tell you to buzz off?” she exclaimed, realizing it was me.

  “I knew you could see me!” I shouted triumphantly.

  “You know what,” she spat angrily and snapped her fingers.

  I immediately stiffened and shut my eyes, anticipating pain again, but when nothing happened, I slowly opened them. The campus was empty and eerily quiet. As I looked around, I realized the world seemed to have taken on a strange blue hue and was growing increasingly foggy and distorted.

  “What did you—”

  “We’re in the veil. Between worlds? I snapped us here because you insisted on making me look like a psychopath in public. You didn’t happen to notice all the turning heads when I responded to you? People thought I was talking to myself!” She threw her hands up, exasperated.

  The world around me felt like it was getting darker and a slow-growing fear crept its way down my spine and into my gut.

  “Listen, I’m sorry. I really am. I have no idea what happened to me or how I died. I didn’t see any angels or whatever you were talking about earlier. I’m trapped like this and I’m scared and I don’t know what to do. You’re the only one I have.” I looked at her sincerely, hoping she’d finally hear me out.

  She sighed and scratched her head. Pink-hair folded her arms and tapped her foot thoughtfully.

  “You didn’t see a rifter?”

  “A what?” I asked, confused.

  “A rifter. A being that can travel through the veil between dimensions—don’t look at me like that. An angel. You know, God’s little, winged helpers?” She wiggled her fingers and made a face for emphasis.

  Her sarcastic tone about God threw me. Considering she could see and talk to ghosts, I didn’t expect her to be so unorthodox about God.

  “No, I have not seen an angel. I woke up in a morgue, sat up, and realized my body didn’t come with me.” As I spoke I started to look behind me. I couldn’t shake this feeling that something was watching us.

  Pink-hair looked up, eyeing me suspiciously. “Do you see something?”

  “No, but I feel like something’s there. Like we’re not alone.”

  “Shit. I’m going to snap my fingers again, but this time, you’re going to shut up and follow me home, no questions asked. Understood?” She pointed at me as she spoke.

  “Yeah, absolutely. Anything to get out of this place. So, does this mean you’re going to help me?” I asked hopefully.

  “No questions. Now let’s go,” she repeated and snapped her fingers.

  Pink-hair led the way in silence with her earbuds tucked tightly into each ear to block out me and the rest of the world. I kept my word and was quiet. I was hoping to get on her good side, but she didn’t acknowledge it. The whole town was up, and the sounds of motors, car horns, and cellphone conversations filled the mountains, but pink-hair carried on through the cacophony with her eyes down and her thoughts secret.

  As we turned a corn
er, more car horns caught my attention, and I realized there was an accident in the intersection. It looked bad. An ambulance was slowly approaching, and I thought I heard a firetruck’s siren in the distance. A guy at the scene looked our way. His blonde hair blew in the wind, with black smoke trailing behind it, and his eyes searched the distance. I knew he couldn’t see me, but I still turned away. I didn’t want to speculate about what could have happened and honestly, I didn’t want to see another dead body for a while.

  Another turn and we were on a quiet street that ended at the Star riverbank. The dark water flowed lazily but made a sizable barrier between Silverbrook and the mountains. I admired it for a moment and then watched as pink-hair stopped at the last house on the left and walked up the driveway. I caught up and followed her into the house.

  It was a blue one-story bungalow. It wasn’t anything to write home about, but being right next to the water was pretty cool. The interior was what you’d expect from a university student’s house: second-hand furniture mixed with posters and framed photos, but with a dash of kawaii. Was I surprised to see cute stuffed animals, smiling donuts, and unicorns? Yes, yes I was.

  “Who this?” A girl in a tank top and silk pajama pants asked from the couch. It had been such a ridiculous morning, I hadn’t realized she was talking about me.

  “I don’t know.” Pink-hair shrugged and then disappeared into the kitchen.

  The girl, a smoking hot girl with long black hair and dark skin, stared at me. I stared back. I didn’t know what else to do.

  A spoon clattered against ceramic and I looked up to find pink-hair eating a bowl of cereal. Between bites, she said, “What is your name anyway?” She leaned against the wall as she ate.

  “I, uh, Darren. She—she can see me?” I stammered.

  “Where you pick this one up?” The girl on the couch asked with a touch of an accent as she stretched out across the cushions. I tried to keep my jaw from dropping.