The Stitch sat in its cell, it mumbled to itself. It scratched at the seams of the resealed holes in its sides. Staring at the wall, talking but not saying anything. It leaned forward, reaching over its head and scratching the back of its neck right above a piece of skin with a tattoo on that had been sewn on. It threw its head back smashing into the enchanted stone behind it. The stich started a scream that would split ear drums. Each breath was followed by another slam into the wall behind it and another scream lasting longer than the last.
It put its hands on the side of its head, at first in effort to stop the smashing but then it used the arms to slam harder into the wall. It could not damage itself, the magic holding it together also kept it from taking injury by blunt force. Pain still got through, every part of it. The guards knew the walls would not be broken like that, they weren’t worried about that, they were more concerned about getting replaced. The scream of a soul in pain gets into your own soul, they resonate and empathise. Every guard that wasn’t of a soulless breed started to bash their own heads against walls.
They had magically sound proofed the cell when two guards had thrown up in the hallway from extreme concussion. The stitch didn’t need food, it wouldn’t eat it even if it was given to it. It never slept, it had been in this cell for six months and the only time it stopped screaming was to talk to itself and breathe. There were drawings on the walls, there were no drawing materials in there. Whenever it could draw blood it would draw symbols and death scenes on the walls until the wound healed. All while screaming. This stitch is the last because no magic has found a way to kill or disassemble it. It is a creature that even hell fears.
Sam always hated Necromancers, worshiping death was one thing. Death himself is not such a bad guy, or girl depending on the mood. The curse he put on Cain turned out great for all the magical creatures his kids turned into. But Necromancers worshiped death on a whole new level. They bathed in coagulated blood and were normally necrophiliacs as well. Plus the whole idea of using corpses as slaves did not sit well with her at all.
Mr Red had gotten word of a string of grave robberies in the area, keeping the magic arts in line was normally the mage guilds job but the refuge didn’t want a zombie army running around. That was another thing Sam hated about Necromancers, they always want to take over the world. She opened the gate, failing to silence the loud screeching it made. Luckily she never had much of a problem with cemeteries or she would have had to wait till morning. The ground was wet and soft, squelching under every step. She ducked behind the worn and broken gravestones, making sure no-one was around before she moved closer to the mausoleum.
Ever since the Vampurists attacked the refuge the enforcers were hard pressed for back up. Sam had been unable to re-summon her clay golem as most of the ingredients needed for the doll core are hard to import. All but two of the hell-hounds normally used for raids had been killed in the attack and those two were kept at the refuge so it could still be safe enough as to be used as asylum. That meant all enforcers had to act covertly. As Sam came upon the mausoleum door she transformed, her cat form was excellent for moving stealthily.
Not many humans had known about the mansion buried under this cemetery but to the magic community in the area it was common knowledge. Sam slipped right through the secret entrance in the back of the mausoleum. The mansion had long since collapsed in many places and most of it was inaccessible. It was once the home of the Vampire Royal family when they had moved out of Europe. They abandoned it soon after the start of the Salem witch trials, now it was reminder of why they keep magic away from the masses.
Sam slowly walked through the corridors being careful not to put her paws on something that might make a lot of noise. She heard chanting echo down the hall, she froze and used her powerful hearing to check if they were getting closer. She started moving again when she realized they were still and at the end of the corridor.
“I summon thee, the counter weight and the destroyer of worlds!” A robed man waved his hand over a fire.
“Well where is he then?” Another robed man stood on the other side, noticeably shorter than the first.
“I told you to be patient!” The fire lit up the cave with an orange glow. Two bodies had been placed on either side of the fire. One was an ensemble of different parts at different points of decomposition. The other was the body of young man, still in the suit he was buried in. Sam was now hidden behind a large, old and broken cabinet listening to the pair argue.
“You said he would be here instantly!”
“Shut your goddamn mouth Larry!”
“Boys, boys. What the hell are you arguing about?” A new voice entered the room. “Why have you summoned me?”
“I… ahhh… we… We are but humble servants master.” They both bowed.
‘They actually summoned death.’ Sam thought to herself, quite surprised. ‘Guess this is going to be a bigger problem.’
“So let me get this straight, you’ve put together a bunch of different body parts and were going to perform a trapping ritual on me to get me in there. Just so I could use my powers on this plain.”
“That is what master has wished isn’t it?” Both of them were still bowing even though Death, standing in the suited boy’s body, had told them to stop.
“Well, yeah. Even though it’s not very original I do like it. I’m just bewildered that a couple of Necromancers had the initiative to put this sort of thing together. I am genuinely impressed boys.”
“Thank you master, thank you so much.” Sam heard the tears in the tall necromancer’s voice, he was crying with joy from that compliment.
“There’s just one problem…” Sam stood up in her human form and stepped into the light. “I was going to say ‘I’m going to stop you’ cause that would be totally cool. However, there legitimately, is a problem without me even being here.”
“Who are you and how did you get in here?” The tall one screeched, almost in tears again.
“Oh hi, I’m Sam. I’m a ritual magic expert. This is never going to work.”
“She’s actually right, don’t know how I missed that.” Death looked around the room. “Well, it was a good attempt boys, maybe next time.” The suited boy’s body went limp and dropped back onto the ground.
“Master! Master! No! What did we do wrong?” The shorter one jumped on top of the body and shook it by the shoulders, screaming into its face.
“You don’t have enough people to perform a trapping ritual on death.” Sam stepped closer the fire.
“What?” “Trapping a mid-level reaper may only need two people but trapping death himself into a body would require… probably sixty, seventy well versed ritualists. Even with a body that could contain his entire essence. He’s just too powerful, not to include how much that would unbalance soul traffic.” The two boys froze in place, refusing to say anything. “With just you two doing it, all you’d end up doing is sucking the life out of both of you and have nothing to show for it.”
The tall necromancer’s face started to heat up, sweated beaded up behind his ears. The hood over his head didn’t help but it kept his scrunched up face hidden. He felt his nails dig into his palms. His stomach flipped. His vision started to blur. He stuck his hand up at the woman and pushed his rage into it. She stuck up her hands just has he had conjured a flame. He shot balls of blue flame at her. She hit them away with her hands. He pushed more rage into his hand and fired bigger hotter flames at her. She batted a couple then dodged the rest.
Sam jumped behind another cabinet. Fireballs smashed into it. It was definitely on fire. She needed to try something else. ‘Should’ve just let them kill themselves with that ritual.’ Sam thought to herself ‘Damn it Sam you need to stop killing the bad guys. Okay so what else have we got?’
A fireball hit the wall beside her.
Both of them were throwing fire now.
‘Cat won’t handle fire.’
The area around her was now covered in flames. She put her hand in her pocket hoping to think of something. She pulled out a mermaid scale. ‘How did you get in here?’ She looked up at the ceiling ‘If this is a deus ex machina I’m going to go up there and kick some ass you hear me angels?’ She pulled a handful of necklaces out of her side pouch. Grabbing one and putting it on her neck jamming the rest back into the pouch. She could feel the heat now. She broke the scale in her hands knowing that it wouldn’t need any spell-words. The roaring flames around her turned to smoke. She stood and jumped over the cabinet. The necromancers tried to throw more fire but they couldn’t create any. Sam ran at the tallest one bringing her hand up to her chest. As she reached him she pushed out in a fist, ramming it into the side of his head. He had no defence and made no reaction he just went down. The she turned to the short one her head down and ready to pounce. He had his arms out stretched.
“Oh… really? But you’re a necromancer…” A floating cabinet dropped as the short one dropped his arms. It hit Sam on the top of the head. Everything went black.
Sam felt her arms before she felt anything else. They were tied together above her head. Then she realized that she was actually laying on the ground. She could feel the heat of a fire on her front and the cold stone on her side. She moved her legs, they were bound together as well. She opened her eyes.
“Hello sleepy head.” The tall necromancer had taken his hood off, his left eye socket looked like a giant blueberry.
“So we figured out how to get this ritual back on track.”
“We’re going to sacrifice you…”