Chapter 1
The arctic air clung to James’s body, soaking into his every bone. Of course, he knew better than to think he was in his corporeal body. This was the home of Death, the plane the dead cross on there way to whatever afterlife awaited them. James was familiar to this place, though he’d only been here twice before. His practices of necromancy had landed him in many an interview with Death himself. Immortality was not what he had hoped it was, and that damned Matricia. Nothing was worth being stuck with a venomous snake like her, and to die by her hand right when eternal life was getting sweet. James’s was spared from the cold for but a moment as his anger flamed through him. That wretched witch had killed him in his immortal prime and taken his life for her own. Obviously, his eternity was a lie, all she needed was a new fountain of youth, and James had been it. He wondered, briefly, how Death would react to his permanent visit.
Surely, James thought, Death has some retribution in store for me. Death didn’t take lightly to being eluded, especially not more than once, nor by anyone who dabbled in his realm without permission.
That’s when he felt it, that nauseating wave of dark energy that made his soul cringe in fear. Death had arrived. James stood in the endless darkness, not bothering to cover his nakedness; clothes were of the material world.
“Welcome back, Mr. Madison.” The deep voice echoed through the darkness sending a stronger wave of nausea and fear through James. He shrank into himself slightly. He was suddenly aware that his punishment would not be forty lashes or starvation; no it would be much worse, it would be a punishment only death could deliver. “I see you’re not your haughty self. Could it be that you’re staying, this time?” The laugh of Death seemed to claw at James’s insides. This was much worse than his previous visits. He was fully in this realm, and at the mercy of its ruler. “As much as I would love to keep you here, I have something I need you to do for me. I’m sure you’ll oblige.”
James blinked and frowned, staring into the darkness confused.
“When you left the living world,” Death explained, “I lost all hope of ending necromancy and those who practice it. Matricia is the strongest necromancer and while she’s still alive, that accursed art will never fade.”
Death paused for a moment. “I need you to return to the realm of Life and deliver Matricia to me.” Death cut James off before he could even think his question. “You were, and are the second most powerful necromancer. None of the others have even crossed into my plane, and could never hope to match Matricia.”
It was strange, having Death ask a favor. James let his ego get the best of him and smirked at the idea. Of course, Death had no love for an ego that wasn’t his own.
“I’m not asking, I’m demanding.” He growled. The malice seeped into James, dizzying and tying his insides into a tight knot. “It’s either a second chance at life, or eternity, here, with me.”
James looked up at the second chance part.
Death chuckled. “I made a deal with Fate not long after you got here, that if you get rid of Matricia for me, I’d let you have your life back. Of course, Matricia holds that now, so it’s obvious that you have no choice but to kill her to get it back. Fate just had some crazy idea in her head that involved you, though I’m sure this makes it a lot more interesting for her.” Death sighed. “I’d originally planned to take your life and give you what you deserve, but Fate is a persuasive one and I’d really hate to have to throw off the Balance for someone such as Matricia.”
James looked into the darkness with amazement. Another chance to live! Oh, the things he had planned-
“Of course, if ever you use necromancy again, your life will be mine.”
It was a deal. James would willingly give up the dark arts for another chance at life. He had actually grown tired of being stuck at twenty-four. He was seventy years overdue for his mid-life crisis. Not to mention, he had become a rockstar. The modern world was way better than the 1920s .
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Bodies, bodies, bodies. At age 22, Terra had seen more of the dead than a grave keeper of age 72. Inside, and out. The morgue of Tulwick Hospital, and its workers, served also as the Tulwick Police Department’s forensic pathology department. The place was kept overly bright and impossibly clean. Even cleaner than the operating and emergency rooms, despite the patients here were already dead and blind to their surroundings. Terra figured it was because the morgue wasn’t as busy as the OR and ER and the custodians had plenty of time to clean the few messes that Old Man Byers might leave when Terra’s not there to clean it up. It was also as silent as the grave the patients were heading for after they left Terra’s work table. Whenever the Old Man left her in charge, which was becoming more frequent as Terra progressed in her apprenticeship, Terra would pull her boom box from the broken storage cooler in the corner and play music as she worked.
Terra liked her job, though. She’d dreamed of being a forensic pathologist since she was six, and she had practically begged Old Man Byers to take her on as an apprentice. It always made her smile to think of the implications of the old man’s absence. He was obviously pleased with her work and trusted her with most of the cases coming in, which didn’t exclude the one she had today.
Talbot, age forty-six with a history of drug problems, lay on her table. Terra had done all the necessary examinations, though the toxicology report confirmed an enormous, and deadly, amount of morphine in his system. She put him back together, filled out the report, and slid him into a cooler, just as her CD ended and Carrie, the morgue assistant, and Terra’s best friend, rolled a new patient in, the white sheet fluttering down the sides.
“They’re keeping you busy, aren’t they?” Carrie asked, smiling. She pulled a chart from where it hung on the gurney and handed it to Terra, who scanned over it and placed on the table behind her. She pulled the sheet off the patient, draping it next to the chart and turned around. She gasped when she saw the patient’s face.
Carrie looked up quickly. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s James Madison!” Terra said, staring at the corpse with wide eyes. Scratches were scattered across his face, but beyond that, he seemed unharmed.
“Really?” Carrie asked, taking a better look. “Holy Crap, you’re right. Isn’t he the front-man of that band we saw last Saturday?”
“Yeah, Telepathy Estates.” Terra turned and picked up the chart. “Car wreck. Dang, that’s sad. I really liked that band.”
“Gives us a good reason to talk to the rest of the band, now.” Carrie winked. “Ivana gave all duties dealing with the patient to us.” She said, rolling her eyes.
Dr. Ivana Stevens had some type of phobia concerning Goths, Punks, and anyone who prefers Slipknot over Plain White T’s. Unless, of course, they visually fit her idea of a “normal” person (white, wealthy, and Prada-wearing). She’s racist, too; in the non-violent way of course. She’ll speak, but she’ll send them to “their own kind” as soon as possible. Unfortunately for her, when it came to the Goths and Punks, she had to come up with an explanation for sending them to the morgue. Carrie and Terra were the only “Gothics” in Tulwick hospital. They were all but forced back into college to get medical licenses to cover Ivana’s butt (and the hospital’s) if the family of a patient ever found out they weren’t real doctors of the living. Terra never understood why they didn’t get rid of Ivana, or why they didn’t give patients to the less judgmental doctors ahead of time. It was almost over, though. Terra was almost a certified pathologist, both in the forensic and medical field. So was Carrie. She had three more months before she could handle an autopsy, and another year before they could both handle a living patient. Though, they never would actually handle it until Ivana deemed one of the patients in her ward worthy for them to handle. Rock stars would always be on Ivana’s “send to Terra” list.
“Sometimes, I dream of her lying on the metal table.” Terra said, walking over to the boom box. “What’ll it be? All That Remains or Three Days Grace?” She held up two CDs.
“How about a Mix?” Carrie asked, rolling a tool tray over to the examination table.
Terra popped one of her heavy metal mixes into the CD player and pressed play. She walked over to the gurney and Carrie took James’s legs as Terra forced her hands under his shoulders. They moved the body off of the gurney and onto the exam table. Carrie rolled the gurney through the doors and parked it just outside, so it could be returned upstairs. Terra positioned the overhead lamp and turned it on. She and Carrie went to the sinks and washed their hands before sliding on gloves, caps, and masks. Terra grabbed two pairs of safety glasses, handing one pair to Carrie.
“You want to open him up?” Terra asked when they returned to the autopsy table.
“Nah, I hate the doing the incision. I always hit an organ.” Carrie’s eyes were scanning over the body; they were going to go ahead and do the external exam. They would re-do it when the coroner came in. Mr. Madison had been in a car wreck with no witnesses. The tox-screen said he had no alcohol or drugs in his system, and the forensics team down at the police department was still working on the car. Since there was suspected foul play, the autopsy would be observed by the coroner and the detectives working the case. If the girls were lucky, Officer Derricks would be the coroner. He was the only one that trusted them with the procedure and didn’t doubt their abilities. It was mainly because Old Man Byers was his uncle, and if Byers trusted the girls to hold down the fort, he would, too. That’s how he liked to put it.
As they went over the body, Carrie wrote down anything they found as Terra spoke into the voice recorder. They didn’t scrape the fingernails, but they checked for bruising or cuts. Since it was a single person car wreck, it was mandatory for them to search for any signs of foul play. They completed the examination, weighed the body and glanced at the clock. The detectives should have showed up fifteen minutes ago. After placing Mr. Madison in a cooler, they took off their gloves, and settled down to wait.
The girls were lounging on two autopsy tables when the phone rang. Carrie leapt off her table and answered it.
“Tulwick Morgue. Carrie Downes speaking.” She listened and Terra could hear the low, raspy voice of Byers on the other end. “You sure? Yeah, we’ve already done the external.” She frowned and looked at Terra. “This goes against protocol…Well, if the Chief says it’s okay, then we’ll do it.” She hung up and looked at Terra. “They want us to go ahead with the autopsy.”
“But-”
“Chief approved it; as long as we have an extensive report ready for him and the detectives tomorrow.” Carrie walked over to the body.
“Did Byers say why?” Terra asked, sliding off the autopsy table. She adjusted her black scrubs and went to the supply cabinet.
“Derricks and the detectives got another call, said it was important they get their and check out the scene.”
“Probably something about the Frazier case.” Terra grabbed fresh masks and gloves, and then she and Carrie pulled Madison out of his cooler and returned him to the exam table. Terra then grabbed a scalpel and put it to the corpse’s left shoulder.
“You know,” She said pointing the scalpel, casually, at Carrie. “Maybe Byers is going to send in our completion papers.”
“You think he’ll graduate us?”
“He’s letting us do a forensic autopsy by ourselves. He never does that.” Terra thought for a second. “Yeah, I think we’re graduating.”
“We’ll see. Let’s get this done, or else we may be stuck as apprentices.” Carrie said.
I really enjoyed that! And I don't say that lightly. ^_~ Your writing style is extremely easy to read; your flow is smooth; your descriptions are vivid without being overpowering. I think the paragraph about Ivana Stevens was a bit too much unnecessary information all at once-- I found myself skimming some of it, and therefore ended up quite confused about that character by the end. But other than that your writing is clear-cut and fun to read.
It wasn't a big deal here, but just for future reference.