Necromance in the Air - Chapter XIX

Heartstopper

Trapped between a giant whale heart, and the forces of even more darkness, our hapless quartet are desperate to escape. Does the incantation printed by a cursed printer hold the key to their salvation…or is it just going to make everything worse. (It’s going to be worse). What else could possibly go wrong?

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Heartstopper

“Heed the call of sin, relentless and pure.

Release the darkness, open the door.”

Debs and Felix said, each holding a corner of the printout.

“From shadows deep, call forth despair.

Manifest malice, it waits—beware.”

Further down the corridor, the undead whale’s heart surged again, its valves pulsing, spurting dark viscous fluid. It smashed against the shutters, leaving streaks of glistening black slime in its wake.

“There stands Agmorgordon. There lurks Vasmastasch. In the darkness waits Rizixian. Bathed in blood is Valhalghast.”

Daniel stood next to Lucy at the far end of the reception desk. His head flitting from watching the strange corporate ritual in front of him, and a beast from his nightmares bouncing around beneath the green exit sign. “What in the actual f—” He said, his voice cracking as he pointed down the corridor.

“Banished from the mortal lands, caged by mankind past, we call to the nightmare ones, free the horror at long last.”

Voices shouting out in elation in horror came from down the corridor as the metal door gave way with a screech.

“Oh dear god, it’s killing them, it’s just killing them,” Lucy said.

“Bring the reign of terror. We renounce the light bearer ways, the four of Armageddon, announce the end of days.” Felix and Debs finished and gave each other a fist bump before turning. Behind them, mouths hanging open, Daniel and Lucy stared.

“Okay,” Felix said. “It sounds a little weird when taken out of context.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Lucy said. “Does chanting about the end of days sound less weird in the context of necromancy?”

“Firstly, I’m more like a Necromancy assistant or—”

“Kill it. Kill it!” someone screamed, before their voice was cut off by the thud of the heart landing on them.

“He’s really not a good necromancer,” Debs said.

“But he is a necromancer, and you just did some kind of spell?”

Felix held up his hand. “You’re making it sound weird. It’s just a password.”

“Oh, I’m making it sound weird,” Lucy said. Further down the corridor, the cries of agony were replaced by the sound of gunfire. “It’s not like any password I’ve got. Was it two numbers, three special characters, and a prayer to the ancient ones to devour us all?”

Daniel blinked. “Did you say, ‘Bathed in blood?’”

“It’s metaphorical,” Debs said.

“Metaphorical blood?”

“Yeah, it’s like, you know, bathed in sweat, when someone says they’re…”

“Really sweaty?”

“That was a bad example.”

“So it’s not some kind of evil magical incantation?” Lucy asked. “Because it really sounded like—”

A low rumble shook the floor as the reception desk groaned and trembled. With a sudden lurch, it sank, revealing a spiral staircase shrouded in shadows. Pulsing red runes lined its surface, glowing like embers in the dark.

“What the—”

“Password,” Debs said, waving at the staircase like it was a perfectly reasonable response to apocalyptic chants. “See? Functional.”

“A password? Who were you talking to?” Lucy said.

“Uh, voice recognition?” Felix said from the edge of the staircase that plunged down into darkness before. “And it worked, look, now we can get out of here safely.”

“You want us to climb into that?” Lucy said, pointing at the stairs. “It screams doom.”

“Technically, it doesn’t scream,” Felix said. “It hums. Softly.”

“Do you hear yourself? It’s like every horror movie’s worst idea rolled into one. Are you actually pissing crazy?” She shouted.

“That’s offensive,” Daniel said. “You shouldn’t call people crazy—”

“Is this really the time, Daniel?” Lucy asked, pointing down the corridor where the exit sign swung by a single wire, flickering in the gloom, casting the occasional burst of light over crushed and dismembered bodies.

The heart stopped mid-pulse, its massive form sagging like a deflated balloon. A sticky silence filled the corridor, broken only by the faint flicker of the dying exit sign.

“It’s stopped moving,” Felix said. “They might have actually killed it.”

“We’re saved,” Lucy whispered.

“We’re dead,” Daniel muttered.

A figure stepped through the gaping hole that remained of the entrance to the office building. It inspected the eviscerated heart and poked at the assorted fresh corpses with a toe, pausing to inspect its shoes as it stepped through the mess. The swinging fire escape light briefly illuminated the face of the figure. It wasn’t long enough to see anything…except a moustache.

“We’re worse than dead,” Felix said in a whisper.

“Move, now!” Debs shouted, already disappearing down the stairs.

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Who defeated the undead whale heart? Why is Felix even more terrified… I think you know. Oh come on, this isn’t an Agatha Christie whodunnit! Moustache attack!

Like, share, beg people to read this story, force them to read it. Spread the word. Unless…are you ashamed? Embarrassed? That’s a bit sad. I mean, if you’re going to have something to be ashamed of you can do better than a substack you read, can’t you? TELL PEOPLE! Or at least press the little heart button so I can feel I achieved something!