By the way, before you read it, I just want to let you know that this is the most violent scene so far, so if you don't like reading about blood and gruesome, painful death, you are now warned.
My parents were so shocked; they both sat down at the same time and then looked at each other and grinned sheepishly. It was a beautiful day, even though the rain outside matched our tears of wonder. Twix, however, went about her old daily routines, as if she had never died. But she was a cat, so she probably didn’t quite understand what was going on. The only thing that could possibly change my mood (which it didn’t) was that I had school the next day. I (god bless Greg and his guiding hand) had already done all my homework so I invited Greg and Ricky around. The first reason was because of Twix. But they were by friends and deserved to know why we were kidnapped. When they arrived and saw Twix stood beside me, they thought I had bought a new cat. When the realised it was Twix, they took the news just like the rest of my family- like the bomb had gone of in their head. I let them mingle with Chris and my parents for a while before calling them, and Twix, into my room. I sat them down on my bed with Twix and tried to plan out how I would tell them. Finally, Greg started me off.
“What’s up, Logan? What are you doing?” He asked.
“I- I need to tell you something.”
“Is it about Twix?” Ricky asked, but I couldn’t speak for a moment.
“Er…this is Twix, right?” Greg shifted nervously. I laughed slightly.
“Yes, It is Twix. But, but.” I paused, trying to find the right words.
“Come on, I’m ageing here!” Ricky protested and we all laughed.
“Sorry. It’s just that you need to know how Twix came back…”
And I told them. When I said about Reynald inside my body there were raised eyebrows, so I told them to prepare themselves and brought him out. He told the story much better than I did, filling in the missing details. When he reached the bit about me asking why I shouldn’t bring back Aage, I realised that he still hadn’t told me. Greg wanted to know, but I told him to wait until the story was over. When we finally did finish, I asked Reynald.
“I guess you need to see to believe, as that book of yours says a lot of things about Aage that are untrue.” He explained. I opened my mouth to side with it but shut it again. How would I know?
“I’m going to- with your permission- get into your head and show you a vision of something he did. It involves me, and I look a bit different, so I advise you to turn away on the more, er, gory bits.”
“Excuse me, er, mister zombie.” Ricky reached out to tap him but thought better of it, “May I see the…vision thing.”
Reynald looked surprised and looked at me. It occurred to me that he didn’t act much like a zombie. Too civil. I nodded and he motioned for us to join hands. Ricky didn’t like the look of Reynalds’ hand, so Greg and I took one each and he took ours. We waited a few moments.
“Well?” I asked.
“Oops, I forgot, you need to close your eyes.” He informed us, and so we did. What we saw was horrific.
*
“I’m sick of it, you can’t do this to us!” The farmer shouted. The figure before him was old and scowling. I guessed that I was looking at Aage. He wore a black diamond crown and wielded a heavy sword, which he carried with ease, in one gauntlet, the same the gauntlets that I donned. He wore a basic cloth T-shirt, black. The unremarkable, unwashed pieces of clothing on his torso and his legs, were made up for by his cloak and shoulder pads. The cape was slightly lighter than it had become, but probably because it hadn’t seen sunlight in ten thousand years. They seemed to amplify his burly physique, made him taller, stronger. He glared at the farmer, the high sun clouding up behind him. He spoke slowly, venomously, spitting each word as if he were cursing.
“Sick- Of- What?”
The farmer practically imploded with fear. His wife, rushing over with a basket of fruit, tried to intervene.
“I’m sorry, sir, he’s always like this when-”
She screamed. An invisible creature revealed itself before her, a man of grey flesh and foul breath. It had a missing ear and it had no fingernails, but surrounding its’ wrists, like cuffs, were a ring of claws, growing from the skin. There was blood on its' mouth, and his back was arched. It was Reynald, but infinitely different. It darted forwards and pulverised the basket, leaving only the handle, which she flung away. When she looked up, there were monsters! The man drew himself upwards.
“Haven’t we discussed this!” He roared in fury, “You never, ever question me, or my dead friends here will eat your brains!” The man shrieked and turned tails, fleeing from his tormentor, who laughed cruelly.
“Kill them.” He commanded, and his undead terrors, his zombies, including Reynald, attacked. The poor people tried to run, but the slightly larger wife fell behind, and felt her feet ripped from her legs in one savage slash. I felt sick and turned away, but I knew what was happening. Her anguished death cries rang out at such a high pitch that Aage frowned and covered his ears, but I had my fingers jammed in my ears. She was dragged backwards, the zombies dicing her up with expert precision, keeping her alive. Her husband was running back for her, hoping to save her. He dived into the fray flailing like a dry fish. I felt myself, but didn’t see myself puke.
“Hurry up, will you?” Aage growled impatiently, and the job was finished with the zombies living up to Aages’ threat and ripping the farmer and wives’ cranium- brain and all- away from their heads.
Aage grunted with satisfaction and scanned the horizon.
“Where are you?” He growled at a foe, one who he had pursued for so long…
“Where are you?”
*
“You were a monster.” I said to Reynald. None of us had broken the circle, and we were looking at the sick on the floor. It stank, but not more than the thought for Reynald, the monster. I could feel Ricky quaking in fear beside me.
“No. I wasn’t and I never have been, not by choice anyway.” He added,
“Aage wanted terrifying killing machines so that’s what we gave him. I promise that I will never harm anybody unless you tell me to or I need to defend you.”
We were all silent.
“Who was he looking for?” Greg asked tentatively, “Can you show us?”
“Hey?” Ricky frowned.
“If you had been concentrating, you would have seen him asking where somebody was.”
“Asking who?” I was confused as well. Greg, geek as he was, never missed a trick, even in the middle of a gruesome bloodbath.
“Himself, or more, the one he was looking for. Well? Can you show us?” He repeated. Reynald was silent for a moment.
“Yes. I will show you all. Logan obviously wants to tell you both everything so you can see as well.”
“Let’s go then.” I declared, anticipation shaking up my voice. Our eyes shut, and we see my history unfold.
*
It was a lowly inn. Nobody cared much for it, so the wind whistled its’ merry way through the building unhindered. Aage was sat facing a beautiful woman of dark curls and deep, chocolate brown eyes. He was younger in this vision, and without the crown.
“What would you do for me, my darling?” The woman purred seductively.
“Anything…” He murmured, as if in a trance.
“He’s been placed under a spell.” A voice said, and I realised that we could speak, and that Reynald was speaking. She began speaking rapidly, holding onto his hands and letting tiny sparks flash between them, talking too fast to be heard. The barman was in conversation with a fat man perched precariously on a tiny stool.
“Hey, could Logan do that, with the hypno ray and electric stuff?” Ricky asked. I sighed internally. Ricky was awful at words.
“How come their mouths aren’t moving with their words?” Gregs’ voice called out from beside the bar; he was still refusing to skip a tiny detail of anything.
“We’re in Germany. The dialogue is translated, but their mouths move as they would before.” Reynald explained. It was weird hearing his voice but being unable to see him, Greg or Ricky. I walked closer to Aage and the woman.
“She’s loving him up bare.” Ricky noted. I tutted and laughed.
“That is the most inappropriate thing you could ever have said.”
“Not really,” He responded, “I could have started talking about how similar I find this to titanic.”
“Does this place remind you of titanic?” Greg asked, now right next to us.
“No, but my point is that t would be random.”
“Point taken.” Greg and I said simultaneously, just as Aage and the girl stood up and walked away, out of the door. We lingered after them, but couldn’t get the door open, no matter how hard we pushed.
“I get it, the vision is limited to this building.” Greg told us. We didn’t get what he meant, but went with it and stood around.
“Here, I’ll take you forwards a bit.” Reynald announced, and suddenly images were racing past us, until suddenly we were deep inside a cave so dark that we could only barely make out our hands. Suddenly, a bright light filled the cave, and I looked towards it to see Aage, fierce and proud. Zombies surrounded him, Reynald being one of them. The beautiful woman was on the floor on the other side of the cave. They stared at each other hatefully. Finally, she spoke.
“You are too late. The child was born. It was a boy. That means that he’ll have the powers of us both, or at least me. You are too ashamed that I got you. Too ashamed to give him your mantle when you are old. He walked towards her slowly, picking his way around stalagmites and stalactites. She kept talking.
“I sent the boy away, too a place called England. You’ll never find him.”
Aage roared, pointing his head straight up. I thought he was trying to summon a zombie! I reared back but the woman didn’t even flinch.
“You killed everybody I knew, my family, my friends, even my enemies. I couldn’t kill you, not with those idiot creatures you hang around with there. They would kill me if they saw me cutting meat a mile away. So I needed somebody more powerful, with the potential of a witch and a true necromancer. Your son will kill you.” She laughed as he stood there with his fists clenched.
“I guess you’re going to torture me now. But I told them to give the baby and instructions to a friend of theirs. I cut myself out of the loop, so neither of us can ever find him. At least I can go down in the knowledge that my children will kill you.” She snarled the last sentence, dropping her cool composure. Aage growled, and the zombies began to move forwards, zooming in on her least pain tolerant areas. She laughed at them, that is, until they started on her, tearing out her ears, eyes and nose. She howled and clawed at whatever she could find, only to have her hands pinned down and slowly sawn off. She howled desperately and Aage roared at her.
“Bitch!”
And then it stopped. We all fell apart, Ricky sobbing softly. Reynald bowed his head slightly.
“I’m sorry you had to see that. I would have left a little earlier, but my memory is a little patchy.”
There was silence, all of us trying to process what we’d seen. Ricky slumped on my bed, almost flattening Twix. A moment more passed.
“Did he find his son?” Greg finally asked.
“No. He never did, so he took us, the zombies, back to Germany and started his own family. He left the woman to do what she pleased with the children, as long as they worshipped him. He visited once a year to check their progress. That was where the family book came from. One of the children drew one up once he became an adult. Since then, many have been left out.”
“You mean the one he was searching for? What happened to him?” I butted in.
“Yes. The child probably had children of its’ own and so forth, unless it went looking for Aage. But they never met.”
“So… I’m on the, er, what’s the word…?”
“Illegitimate.” Greg suggested.
“Yeah, illegitimate side of the family, right.”
Reynald nodded in confirmation.
“So, If we weren’t left out, or at least most of us weren’t, who is missing?”
“What?” Ricky blinked, drying his eyes.
“Well,” I began, “Because the half siblings who were Aages kids never met, the first few generations never would have been in the book, right? So…”
“You want to see how they did meet.” Reynald finished for me.
“Precisely.” I grinned, pleased that I’d got to a conclusion before Greg for once. Reynald looked shifty.
“You don’t want to?” Greg frowned.
“No, I don’t. The last vision scared you all, and the next is almost as bad, just minus the zombies.”
“Reynald, if you show us, I’ll use my regeneration power on you, I promise.” I tempted, and he took the bait. We once again joined, although Ricky only very reluctantly. We shut our eyes…
*
There was an old man, a middle-aged man and three children in the room. The house was of cold stone and a small fire feebly patted in a tiny fireplace. The old man had a large book in his two hands, and the children were sat in a semi-circle before him. The man stood by the window, checking for eavesdroppers. He nodded at the old man, who grunted.
“My father once told me a story. He told me that his grandfather, the last True necromancer, Aage, had sought him out before he died. My father was told about another half of the family.” He paused for effect. “An evil side, who were determined to murder him in his sleep one day. He tried to find them, but they were too elusive. He told my father that when he, Aage, died, my father and all of his descendants much find them. That is why we are here today. Your father and I have been to Britain and back for many years, but now it is your turn. You must take this, the family book. One day, when I am dead, you must write about me, and then your father. After that you must pass it down the line. But most importantly, you must kill every last one who would threaten Aage. All of them must die. The children nodded solemnly, took the book and left, without a word. They had no maps, and no clues, except for the name, Aage. Anybody who dared mutter it without love and pride must be smitten. Anybody.
A house, small and insignificant, but this was where a war was going on. People were converging on it from all sides, silent and armed with clubs, maces and daggers. The weapons had to be kept at a bare minimum it seemed. Or perhaps they were the best weapons around. I didn’t know much about the weapons ten thousand years or less ago. There was no telling how many generations had passed since the last scene.
“They’re mercenaries.” Greg noted.
“Very good. This is set about three or four generations later and this is were your families fate is decided!” He was being very dramatic about it, and I could feel my heart pumping. The men began to move at a quicker pace. I didn’t see what was so threatening about one little house. I mean, how many people could you fit in there? A dozen wouldn’t leave any walking space.
“Unless they’re…” Greg started, but leapt up (or at least I could imagine him leaping) when somebody burst out of the ground beside him and attacking one of the mercenaries. He slashed at the man with blades forged into leather arm guards. The man cried out and twisted as he fell, blood splattering all over the surrounding area from his neck. More holes appeared from the ground, and more men appeared.
“Wow,” Greg noted, “They built tunnels and knocked down the beams. The perfect surprise attack.” As he spoke, about a dozen people (I congratulated myself for my accuracy) burst out of the house. They all had the same strange weaponry on their forearms. As the mercenaries, or at least the ones who weren’t battling for their lives against the foes coming out of holes, charged. I stared in shock at the bloody rampage. There was at least double the amount of mercenaries in the fight directly outside the house, but they were taking a thrashing. The defenders must have spent their lifetimes in preparation for that moment. They were taking two or even three at once, but seemed to be made of smoke, darting between each strike. It wasn’t before long that the skirmish was over, and there were two dead defenders.
“Oh my god!” Ricky cried as one of the living quickly placed a hand over his fallen comrade and moments later, the other man woke up!
“What are they?” He shouted.
“Necromancers. They can revive the dead as long as they died recently. They only have about a minute before they lose somebody for good. True necromancers, like Aage and Logan, also own necromancial artefacts. In the old wars, necromancers would battle on groups of three or more so that if one dies, the others can revive him and protect the reviver. Those were difficult wars to win.”
I had stopped listening, though, because I had seen something.
“Guys! There are more coming!” I shouted.
“I see them!” Ricky cried in panic, as if they were after him. The defenders were gathering up in preparation for what looked like a final stand. The enemy all had the blades and looked just as strong, but there were more of them. Suddenly, one of them blew a horn and they separated into groups of four in an instant and ran to form a semi-circle around the house. They all charged at once, at the sound of another horn. There were about twenty seconds of roaring and flying blood and limbs before it was over. I heard Ricky wailing in fear as a man with one leg cut clean off dragged himself away desperately, but one of them saw him, back flipped before him and diced up his head. There was blood everywhere and I saw a head rolling along the ground slowly after being kicked. And then the scene dissolved, reforming underground. Ricky and I sighed in relief. There was a small child being given instructions by his father frantically.
“You must run through this tunnel until you reach the end. Then, knock down the beam and run, boy, run. And you must take these, for our enemies must never find them.” He shoved a pair of gauntlets and a bundled up cape into the child’s’ hands. The boy started to run, but stopped.
“Are you all going to die?” He asked. His voice hadn’t even broken yet.
“Aye, lad. But you and those things are what’s important, not us. Never let them find those items. Never.”
The boy nodded and fled. He knew that if he argued, another boy would be sent and we would die in disgrace for not following orders.
*
“So… did they find him?” Greg asked as soon as we were back in my room.
“No. Nor his relatives, but it became tradition to send a mocking letter after every death of one of the British to the German side to add to the book. I don’t know how your side ended up with the book, and it was probably stolen. My guesses are that the ones you call fanatics have set up spells to protect the items that are now yours.”
“I need to go and meet them, tomorrow before school starts. I’ll take a train to where ever they are and ask them about…what I need to know.” He decided, and started out of the room.
“Logan, you’re forgetting something,” Greg piped up.
“What?” I frowned.
“You promised that you would help Reynald.”
“Oh, yeah, sorry!” I hurried over too him and placed my hands on his forehead, searching again for the power. It came easier that time because I knew where to look. I found it, grinned and pushed it out, blasting it out of my hands. I gritted my teeth. Reynald needed more doing than Twix had because he was so much bigger. After a few moments, I relaxed and slumped on my bed, eyes still closed.
“Wow…” I heard Ricky breath. I opened my eyes and, for some reason, started laughing. Reynald, strange, mutilated Reynald was actually, dare I say it, handsome! He had dark brown hair with a silly little quiff and his back was straight. He had pale skin, much better than the rotten grey flesh he had had before. He grabbed his hat, and I noticed that his nails were manicured. He tossed it onto the floor like filth.
“Finally, human again!” He breathed deeply, enjoying every moment. I edged out.
“Where are you off to?” Greg asked.
“I only just realised something. I don’t have the book yet! Maybe we can find out where those relatives live… And how we’re related, ‘cause it sounds weird calling them “relatives”.” I explained.
“Ominous,” Greg agreed, and Ricky and me stared at him.
“Come again?” Ricky started laughing.
“It means…never mind.” He shook his head and I turned away to confront my mother.
I'm going to add a bit more to the end at some point, so please tell me anything that you don't like, even the smallest gramatical error.
