Neromance in the Air - Chapter XXIV
Feeling flat...
If I have learned anything about Substack, it’s that posting these on a Saturday seems to be a bad idea. Oh, well!
Last time on Necromance in the Air - Our intrepid quartet were finagling their way past the reception desk for R&D, deep in the bowels of the office block. We met Errol and his graduate-track assistant, who lives in a glass tank. Meanwhile, things are happening far above their heads… literally…
No idea what’s going on? That’s fair, it’s weird - you can catch up here-
Feeling Flat
“Do you ever wonder about Flat Stanley?” Tony asked. He was standing by the reception desk of the destroyed office block, his clothes covered in drying black ichor.
“Who?” asked the man beside him — short, stocky, dressed for war and not for kids' literature.
“Flat Stanley, you know, the kid’s book. Kid gets flattened and then he’s like the thickness of a piece of paper.”
The man scowled. Sweat ran from his brow down his tanned face into stubble. “No. I do not wonder about Flat Stanley.”
They stood in silence, staring at the reception desk. A ceiling tile dropped, followed by a spark and a fluorescent tube light that shattered on the reception desk.
At the entrance, where the now inanimate remains of a whale heart glistened in the dim lighting, taking up half the corridor, a growing number of lurching figures approached. The sound of shuffling and moaning offered a soundtrack that neither man seemed concerned with.
“Thing is,” Tony said, “as he grew up — boom-chicka-bow-bow — that fella’s not getting much action.”
“Are you… are you asking if I wonder if a grown-up version of a character from a kids’ book can have sex?”
“Yeah, exactly,” Tony said, flicking a glob of fleshy pulp off his shoulder. It fell to the floor, splashing in a pool of the black blood-like fluid. “I mean, he’s flat. So, he’s flat everywhere. If you know what I mean.”
“You are one creepy fucker.”
Someone coughed behind them and both men spun. The man in the vest dropped to a crouch, gun pointed in the direction of the sound. At some point a large knife had appeared in his free hand.
“Who’s there? Show yourself or I will stalk you through the night and keep you alive while I deliver a monologue about my childhood and flay every inch of you in alphabetical order. Starting with A for armpits… no, wait, that should be ankles… Hm,” he said.
“Oh right,” Tony said. “I’m the creepy one, yeah?”
“Uh, hello there, I don’t suppose you’re here to help, are you? Only me and loads of my friends are stuck in the dark in the call centre,” a voice called out from beneath a chair.
Tony turned to the chair and dropped to one knee to reach under it. He dragged out a head by its hair and stood, holding it at eye level.
“Uh, hi. Look, I’m grateful for being picked up from the ground, but this is actually quite painful — being held up by my hair.”
“Huh, you’re an undead head?”
“Accurate, yes. Resurrected for nefarious purposes.”
“Which were?” Tony asked.
“Data entry, light admin, mostly customer service and sales. Oh, I’m really good at conditional formatting on spreadsheets. Hang on — were? That sounds ominous.”
“Well, depends on what the new management decide. Probably be some downsizing. Did you see what happened in here?”
“Most of it. I mean, I ended up under a chair and everything, so… not the best viewpoint.”
“Right. I’m going to gouge your eyes out and pull out your tongue if you don’t tell me what they did to open up whatever it was that they opened up.”
The head swallowed, which did disgusting things to a severed neck. Fortunately, Tony couldn’t see that as it was pointing away from him.
“No need for threats, mate — more than happy to help. It was quite a lot though. Let’s see. Debs and Felix were there — she’s the boss, he’s sort of an assistant boss, or just... around. Honestly, just an org chart would be great.”
From somewhere in the shadows, a voice boomed. “We’re still in a state of flux right now, but I’ll add it to the AOB at next week’s SLT optional drop-in.”
“Uh… right.”
Meanwhile, somewhere far beneath the reception desk… is another reception desk…
The creature pressed the button on the console in front of it, then turned its head towards them. It was difficult to tell who it was looking at — or if it was looking at all — with its featureless face.
“You can go in. Errol is waiting for you.”
“Um, great,” Felix said, as the others shrugged and looked to him. The moustache gambit had paid off far better than he could’ve imagined, and yet Lucy, Daniel and Debs had yet to react.
The creature waved a spindly arm in the direction of a door. It was far too small for any of them to fit through, but they walked towards it, firing looks of confusion at one another until they heard a sharp metallic sound behind them. It was the sound of fingers down a blackboard, of glass being dragged across cement. It was laughter.
“That one’s for my family and me. That door is yours,” the creature said, its toothy grin wider than ever, as it pointed to the left, where a less unusually sized door waited.
It was an office door of the most mundane variety — grey laminate, a small plastic sign reading Research & Development, and a faint whiff of instant coffee and anxiety. Surrounded by solid stone walls covered in runes in the cavernous space deep beneath the office building they had fled, the office door was both incongruous and unremarkable.
“Ah, right. Funny,” Debs said.
“It was, wasn’t it?” the creature called after them.
“Yup. Hilarious,” Daniel said with a sigh.
“Are you being sarcastic?”
“No, no, not at all,” Lucy shouted back, her voice high. “Genuinely was very funny.”
“See, my children? I told you I was funny. See, Zavragash, Luzvrakia, Gavasakrav — and you, Lisa.” The creature shouted out, its head tilted back and mouth gaping so wide that it looked like it had been cut in half.
From above them, a chittering sound like thousands of oversized cicadas filled the cavern. Without a word, they hurried towards the door.
Felix threw himself forward, aiming to burst through — and Daniel collided with him as the door refused to budge.
“Oh god, we’re locked in here. No escape. I wish I was Flat Stanley,” Lucy said, dropping to her knees.
“What?” Daniel asked.
“Flat Stanley. He’s a children’s book—”
“No, we’re not trapped,” Felix said, desperately jiggling the doorknob.
Lucy whimpered. Daniel took a step back, eyes darting toward the cavern walls as the chittering grew louder.
“Or maybe,” Debs said, shoving Felix aside and grabbing the handle, “try pulling?” The door swung open and she stepped through.
The others followed, Lucy crawling in her rush to get out of the strange cavern.
Okay, this is the place where I beg for your likes etc. Insert begging.
Brilliant!!!! Glorious!!! And I have also wondered that about Flat Stanley! 🤣🤣🤣