Necro - Chapter 1 *UPDATED*
Inside this endless void, I waited. 
It was a sort of muffled feeling, like being stuffed inside a tiny room with no windows.  I couldn't sense anything at all, not a single voice nor sight, not even the hint of a smell.
This limbo stretched what seemed like an infinite amount of time.
All of a sudden, a voice began to ring in the distance. A hazy, unclear voice, growing clearer and closer until I could just barely make out a single word.
"Resurrectio."
When I heard the voice, I felt something come over me. It was as if my body was frigid and cold, and a flame was spreading throughout my body.
It was a tiny spark at first, just the tiniest flicker. However, it quickly grew and grew to phenomenal proportions. In what seemed like seconds, I was being thrown into a blazing inferno, into the fiery pits of hell itself. The pain was unbearable, but I couldn't do anything to escape it.
I tried to yell, but my mouth didn't move. I only lay there, motionless in the heat as the fire cut through me like a cleaver.
Eventually, the heat slowly subsided, and something replaced it. It was a heat, but of a different sort. Rather than pain, a comfortable warmth overtook me. I was beginning to hear something, and the cold, hard ground could be felt underneath me.
Suddenly, my cold lips managed to sputter out single, short, groan.
"It's unbelievable how easily these mortals die nowadays, isn't it, Hector?"
Slowly opening my eyes, I heard a quiet voice in the confusion. It was as soft as silk but gloomy and monotone, and touched with an english accent. As I tried to piece together my memories, I began to grope around in the dark, trying to grab onto some sort of hint. There was a sharp pain in my stomach and various other parts of my body. Reaching down to my abdomen, I felt a rough, cloth-like material on it. 
"Don't touch--you'll loosen the bandages."
I turned to the sound, surprised to hear something other than the sound of my own breathing.
Where I looked, a little girl stood. To my eyes, she looked to be about ten or eleven, but something inside me thought otherwise. The way she stood and carried herself, the unexpected coldness in her hazy blue eyes, and the confidence in her every motion displayed a level of maturity impossible for her apparent age. Her head was held high, her chest puffed out, and she moved with a sense of grace which was hard to find in people of modern times. She wore an intricate funeral gown adorned with lace and frills, which was complemented by an ornate bow that lay comfortably on her golden brown hair. She was sitting facing the wall.
The room I was in was small and cramped, filled with a lifeless gray hue. Everything from the walls to the floor were dirty and cracked. There wasn't even a door, just a simple rectangular space where it might have been. There was no furniture, but there was a plain piece of black cloth on the floor, where the girl was sitting. After taking a glance at me, she turned back to the wall, resuming her work. I was laying on the cold concrete, with the little girl just a few feet away from me.
"What the hell happened..?"  I asked the stranger.
"Nothing much, you only died."
A silence permeated through to room, broken only by the occasional sound of the girl's gown, blowing in the soft breeze which had managed to slip past the broken windows.
"What's wrong with you? You look like you've seen a ghost. Which is quite ironic given the circumstances."
The girl commented on my appearance without even turning her head. Being reminded that I was 'dead', I spoke.
"Wait. I died? Then how am I alive?"
"You're not. If you're asking how you're moving, it's pretty simple. Just a flick of the wrist, a couple fancy words, and voila.  Its simple necromancy." said the girl matter-of-factly.
I wasn't sure exactly what she had just said, so I decided to ask again.
"What-a-mancy?"
"Necromancy, you buffoon. Did the blood block your ears, or are you just simple?"
Maybe it's just me, but her english accent seemed to make her words more painful.
"H-hold up. Can we both start from the beginning here?"
The girl sighed softly. The look of annoyance on her face began to frustrate me, but I remained patient.
"You mortals are quite the troublesome bunch. When I went to go pick up something I'd dropped, you suddenly pushed me and managed to get yourself hit by an automobile."
"Hit by an automobile... hit by a car?" I began to patch together parts of my memory.
"Ah yes, that's what you people call them nowadays, isn't it?"
She silently worked, still facing the wall as she spoke. She didn't even turn her head once. It was quiet once again, and I didn't bother to try to spark up another conversation. Instead I tried to get up and look around.
I felt a rush of pain again in my stomach, and my knees gave out, making me fall right back to the ground.
"Don't move," she said, "All of your stitches are coming out. Come here and let me redo them. You're not going anywhere like that."
She was right. I sat down while the girl took out a small sewing kit. It was a small plastic thing, light blue and in the shape of a rabbit.
"That thing doesn't really suit your image." I said, smirking.
"Shut up." she retorted.
The girl paused her work, setting down whatever she was working on on the ground behind her. She then carefully unwrapped my bandages, taking out and preparing her needle and thread.
She began to replace the stitches on my body. Although the lacerations were severe, it seemed to have dried up and began to scab already, despite the fact that it couldn't have been that long since I had 'died'.
"So," I asked, "Who are you?"
"That's a good question," she said, continuing to work on the stitches, "Who do you think I am?"
"A goddamned mystery."
"Oh really?" she smirked, "And why would that be?"
"It's not often that someone wakes up with hardly any recollection of what happened, only to be told by a complete stranger that he's dead, and is moving thanks to magic."
"You should get out more, in that case." she remarked sarcastically. "As to what I am... I'd say that I'm just a simple magus who'd run into a lot of bad luck."
"Like..?"
"Would you like the whole list? Either way, all you need to know is that you're on it."
"Well that makes me feel a lot better about myself." I responded. "So, are there any rules to this necromancy that I should know about?"
"Oh yes. Amidst all of your banter, I'd almost forgot."
She put down her tools for a second, took a deep breath, and then resumed.
"Necromancy, or Reanimation, is the magical art of bringing back the dead, and controlling or injecting mana in a body or corpse. Of course this has many benefits, as well as many drawbacks."
"Mana?"
"It's life force. Mana exists in everything, is the source of everything, and is the cause and effect of everything."
"Huh... and what are some of these benefits and drawbacks you mentioned?"
"For example, the most obvious benefit is bringing back the dead. Despite what religious fanatics might tell you, there is no such thing as 'souls'. Magic is a science, and this particular branch of magic specializes in making things that don't move do exactly that--move. By manipulating the mana in the body, one can revitalize the heart, the brain, and all the other vital organs in the body. This is the process known as resurrection in Necromancy, and all reanimated corpses are known as Necros. However, this form of magic requires large amounts of mana, as the host, or necromancer, is required to periodically pump large amounts of mana into the necro. That's about all you need to know for now."
"Wait. So about the part where you said periodically pump large amounts of mana into the necro, does that mean I have to--"
"Yes. You have to either follow me, or you'll stop moving."
I froze.
"Additionally, I can't stay in one place. So what it comes down to is this--you can come with me, and live, or stay here, and die. The choice is yours."
"This is ridiculous.... what about my family, my friends?"
"I can't do anything about that." said the girl coldly.
"I see."
For what may have been the thousandth time, everything was silent.
"I--"
Bang.
I was suddenly interrupted by a thundering sound.
"Tch. They're here." said the girl in an annoyed tone.
"Wait what? Who is?" I asked.
"I'm being pursued. Prepare to run."
She quickly and efficiently rebandaged my stomach, and put away her sewing kit.
"We've got you surrounded Hathaway! Just give up now!" a voice resounded from the doorway.
The girl looked around, apparently realizing the futility of trying to escape without conflict. Then, with a click of the tongue, she began to walk to towards the door.
"It looks like we're going to have to spill some blood tonight. You stay here. I'll take care of these small-fries."
"Wait, are you going to be alright?"
"Don't insult me. Of course I am."
As she was about to exit the room, she turned back, as if she had forgotten something.


"Elaine T. Hathaway. Make sure you remember your master's name, servant."

Comments:
 
frederic   frederic wrote
on 4/22/2009 2:08:46 PM
You have a very good start here. You introduce the characters extremely well. I might have added a little more of the original setting from the outset, rather than go back to it, which you are likely to do. Necromancy proper is not my cup of tea. So, I personally would not want to continue with this novel. Nonetheless, death is in in literature. You have the beginnings of a good tale. You can take the reader on an adventure through the forest. You have options here for the remainder of chapter 1 or start of chapter 2, as you wish. If you go back, though, (as in flashback) you'll heighten some interest in Aesivele and Levesque as individuals. Do. Nice work.

zinzzaro
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Super-natural
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Synopsis
Dead men tell no tales. Until now.
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