Zombie Mage

By Jonathan J. Drake

Life isn't too grand for Olligh Selthnik. When he wakes from his slumber, all he can remember is his name. With his memory vague, and now having to live life in a decrepit body, he doesn't envision things could get much worse. Join Olligh as he begins his journey on a quest for knowledge.

A horrifying adventure of intrigue and deception awaits but, will he find the answers (and the soap) he so dearly requires? With black humour from the off, prepare to be taken on a ghastly, stench-ridden journey into the unknown.

Zombie Mage, The Fleshed Out Edition, is Jonathan's first book edging on the darker side of fantasy and, as such, it may not be suitable for children.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jonathan J. Drake
• Release date: Apr 13, 2011
• ISBN: 9781458067623

Jonathan J. Drake

I'm somewhere but nowhere but anywhere but here.

Book preview

THE GREAT MYSTERY

Not until death are we made fully aware -

For when that inevitable moment arrives and the mystery of life is finally revealed, only then will we understand the true nature of the world in which we live.

Unless something goes wrong –

For those of us unfortunate enough to be returned to our physical shells, sadly, only horror remains… along with a rotten stench and a terrible skin condition to contend with.

TO THE READER...

If you do not fully understand something then it is wise to be sceptical.

Just remember that you read this with your eyes, or listen to this with your ears. You also turn the pages with your fingers from your hand.

In a physical sense this seems simple enough to comprehend.

But, one question remains –

What exactly is the your?

CHAPTER 1

A fly landed on Olligh’s nose. He attempted to swipe it away but his hand merely twitched uncontrollably by his side.

Umm, he said, trying to wipe his mouth. His lips felt dry and his throat hurt.

He managed to stretch out, attempting to get comfortable on his bed but it felt different – hard, almost bony. Opening his clammy eyes, he could see the sky in the distance burdened with dark, troublesome clouds. This certainly wasn’t his bedchamber.

Urm?

Another fly landed on his nose. This time, he managed to swat it with his hand but his nose felt soft and runny. Something wasn’t quite right.

Rolling on his side, he turned to face a dead man. He was definitely dead; he had glassy eyes, rotten skin and, more importantly, no body below his neck. Olligh backed away and tried to scream but he couldn’t. Feeling his mouth, he realised it was stitched shut. He stood, wide-eyed, trying to understand where he was and what was happening. All around him, mangled corpses were piled. Many had missing limbs and others gaped sightlessly at their new companion, as if sensing an intruder in their midst.

Ummmmhhhh! he said, hoping to alert somebody.

All remained quiet. Looking up, Olligh realised he was at the bottom of a hole deep in the earth. It was a huge hole, with concrete walls, but seemingly void of foot-holes to aid anyone unfortunate enough to fall inside. From the corner of his eye he noticed slight movement at the opposite side of the chamber. He turned for a closer inspection but nothing stirred. He wondered if he’d imagined it, deliberating as to whether or not it was a trick of the light. A muffled groan nearby proved otherwise. He shivered with dread.

Ummmmhhhh! he said again.

Olligh heard some movement from above and a light shone into the chamber, skipping from body to body until it found him. The light hurt his eyes so he tried to cover them.

Well, well, look what we have here! said a man's voice from above. Jimmy! Come here, we’ve got ourselves another live one.

Some muffled voices could be heard in the distance and Olligh waited, wondering if they’d be able to help him. Before long, the outline of another face appeared and the light shone back inside.

Blimey! The poor sod. What shall we do?

What do you mean, poor sod? It’s one of them.

Well, it ain’t right. We can’t leave it down there with all those stinking bodies.

Well, I’m not inviting it up here for dinner if that’s what you’re thinking. It’ll be reaching for our heart and kidneys before we have a chance to say pudding.

Olligh didn’t understand. He waved his hands at them, trying to show he was friendly. Uyymm umm ummm!

The men gaped at him, a look of horror on their faces.

I can’t bear to look. It’s vile, Jimmy said.

Well, shoot it then. You’re the one with the shotgun.

Jimmy shook his head. Nah, we’re running short of shells. We’d best save them for when we really need them.

You can’t leave it down there. What if it gets out, like the others, while we’re sleeping?

Okay, fine – I’ll kill it then. Anything to stop your nagging.

Olligh couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He waved his hands at them, trying to show he understood and that he wasn’t a threat.

Jimmy reached for his shotgun and aimed it at him, holding it tight to his shoulder.

Try to keep the light on it, Stevie. I can’t see what I’m doing.

Just as Jimmy was about to press the trigger, Olligh slipped on some bloody remains and stumbled backwards. There was a loud bang.

Did I get it? Jimmy asked, peering into the hole.

Stevie adjusted his position, trying to find him. Nah, you missed. Look, it’s over there trying to get up.

Jimmy sighed and took aim with his shotgun once again. Olligh groaned, trying to wipe the bits of splattered flesh and blood from his tunic, horrified they wanted him dead.

Light, light! Jimmy said. No wonder I missed. How’d you expect me to shoot straight if you keep moving the light?

Stevie leaned forward, trying to keep the light steady while Jimmy concentrated on his target. Meanwhile, Olligh was beginning to feel heavy-headed and faint. He wiped his brow and staggered forward, trying to steady himself while the chamber began to spin faster and faster. Everything quickly became splashed with bright, vibrant colours until he couldn’t see clearly. There was another loud bang and all went black.

Did I get it this time?

The men peered into the hole, searching for their prey.

Not sure. It just vanished.

Vanished?

Yeah. Stevie rubbed his eyes. Just before you shot it, I swear it vanished. That’s so weird.

Nah, I must’ve got it. You’re seeing things.

Stevie stood and shook his head. I really don't know. I think I might be losing it; probably due to lack of sleep. Don’t forget, I’m up half the night thinking I can hear things moving out here.

Jimmy remained gazing into the hole. Yeah, but that’s why we get paid danger money. Don’t complain too much. They might cut our wages.

Yeah, you’re right. Look, I’m going to have a nap. You’re officially on sentry duty. If you see anything staggering towards you and it’s ugly, just shoot it - no questions asked.

I’ve got you covered, Boss. Jimmy smirked. I’ll keep my beady eye out for your ex-wife then.

* * * *

Olligh’s head throbbed. It felt as though someone was sticking pins into his scalp. Opening his eyes, he squinted. Curiously, the sky was cloudless and bright; this was a strange contrast to the eerie gloom before. He looked around, trying to determine where he was and what had happened. He was no longer in the pit of rotten corpses. Instead, he was lying amongst long grass in a forest clearing. A warm breeze touched his face and the birds chirped merrily on the tree-tops above.

Umm, he said.

Realising his mouth was still stitched shut, he sighed and lowered his head. Olligh noticed his hands; they looked grey and bony with bulbous blisters almost ready to burst. Some of his fingernails were black and others were missing. His memory remained clouded and he wondered who he was and how this had happened to him. It was a most unusual feeling; a bit like having something on the tip of his tongue but unable to recall it clearly. On the bright side, at least he remembered his name. That was a start.

He felt his face, not sure what to expect. The skin felt tight and lumpy, his nose remained soft and spongy. He wondered if he’d somehow broken it so he attempted to sniff but it was completely blocked. Returning his gaze to his hand, he noticed his fingers were wet with blood. Clumps of grey hair from his head stuck to it.

Ummmhh!

Olligh shook his head in denial, hoping he was only experiencing a realistically strange nightmare. If it wasn’t a nightmare then he had to find help, and quickly. He stood and began searching for a way out of the clearing. As he walked, someone screamed nearby. Olligh heard a heavy thud on the grass behind him. Turning, he noticed a boy in rags sprawled on the ground beside a tall tree.

Mister! a voice came from up the tree. Seth’s fallen. Is he alright? Can you help him?

Olligh peered up and spotted a small, makeshift tree house near the top. A boy’s face poked out from the open window.

Mister?

Olligh nodded and hobbled towards the injured boy. For some reason, his foot felt numb and he couldn’t put much weight on it.

Mister – please hurry! It’s all my fault. I dared him to climb higher even though he’s scared of heights.

Olligh reached the boy and knelt by his side. He poked his shoulder but there was no response.

Umm! he said, poking harder.

The boy's head moved slightly to the side and he wheezed.

Is he alive? yelled his friend.

Olligh raised his thumbs and nodded.

Mister, I can’t get down – the rope’s snapped. Can you take him to the village?

Olligh shrugged. He wished he knew where to find the village.

Mister?

He shrugged again, hoping the boy would understand. Noticing he appeared confused, the boy pointed along the forest track. It’s that way – just follow the path. It’s not far.

Olligh stood and shook his foot, trying to resolve the numbness. Satisfied with a slight tingle, he lifted Seth over his shoulder and lumbered along the forest track. He struggled with the extra weight, and his legs felt heavy, but he persevered knowing it was the only way to save the boy’s life.

In the distance he spotted a long, wooden fence with a few cottages scattered behind it. Discovering civilisation strengthened his resolve and he quickened his pace. As well as helping the boy, he had other motivations; he hoped that someone in the village would be able to remove his stitching and shed some light on his unusual situation. Unfortunately for Olligh, he was concentrating more on the village than the forest trail; he caught his foot on a tree stump, stumbled and fell to the ground, releasing Seth from his clutches. The boy landed with a bump on the track and wheezed loudly. Olligh groaned and tried to stand but discovered he couldn’t get up properly. Glancing back, he was startled to find his foot completely twisted on its side. Oddly, there was no pain. In fact, his whole leg now felt completely numb. After a brief struggle, he managed to stand on his good foot and hobbled over to Seth. As he leaned over to check the boy, he noticed a handful of villagers approaching to investigate the commotion. One of them noticed Olligh’s vile features and screamed.

Umm, umgh! Olligh said, holding his arms in the air to show he meant no harm. He wondered what the villagers would be thinking, seeing a decrepit old man hovering over the boy’s body. He shuffled forward towards them, hoping they’d realise he wasn’t a foul beast.

It’s my Seth! screamed a woman. That creature’s killed my son!

Olligh shook his head and waved his hands in the air. Umhhh!

The villagers quickly retreated to the gate and Olligh could hear lots of screaming and shouting. The woman eventually returned, wiping tears from her eyes. She pointed over at him and Olligh wondered if it would help calm her nerves if he merely smiled and waved. Deciding against the idea, he stood still and motioned over to Seth. He hoped somebody would be able to help the boy, if it wasn’t already too late. It didn’t look promising; Seth remained flat out on the ground, unmoving.

Look, it’s gloating! shouted someone else. I can’t bear to look.

It wants to eat him! Call the guard!

Olligh wasn’t impressed, expecting more of a heroic welcome for returning the injured boy to the village. As for eating him, couldn’t they see he had his mouth stitched up? He couldn’t eat the boy, even if he really wanted to.

It’s evil! yelled the woman. Hurry up and kill it! Avenge the death of my son.

Olligh couldn’t believe his ears. Why did everyone perceive him to be an evil fiend and bent on killing him? Obviously, he understood that his skin condition was rather unsightly but he didn’t imagine for one moment he could possibly be that hideous. Before he had a chance to ponder further, five crossbowmen approached the village gate. Olligh realised they weren't part of a welcoming committee when they rushed to fit bolts to their weapons. He shook his head and turned to run, trying to escape into the forest. A bolt thudded into a tree by his side so he quickened his pace, struggling to navigate through the thick undergrowth. As he ran, a burning pain in his ankle forced him to the ground.

Ummmmhhhh! he screamed.

The pain from his wrenched foot suddenly hit him, travelling all the way up his leg. He squirmed in agony, not able to understand why he was feeling the pain now and not earlier when he fell with Seth. Glancing down at his foot, he stared in disbelief as it began to twist back to its original position. Olligh felt sick and faint, not to mention confused. He tried to blank out the pain but it was unbearable. His vision became blurred with bright colours and his head began to throb. The crossbowmen were in hot pursuit and rushed through the forest towards him.

I've got the filthy beggar! said one of them, motioning to his friends.

They all met up and circled Olligh. His eyes were shut tightly and he thrashed his arms wildly in the air.

He’s an ugly blighter, isn’t he?

Ugly isn’t the word I’d use.

Hey, is that a zip on its mouth?

For a moment, all went quiet.

No, look, someone’s stitched him up. It’s probably to stop him biting.

Hurry up, let’s put it out of its misery!

They aimed their weapons at him and released a volley of bolts which penetrated the soft earth.

What the-

Olligh had once again vanished.

CHAPTER 2

Sebastian Denlik sat at his desk, his head planted firmly in his hands, pondering over the day's events. It had been one of those days where nothing, absolutely nothing, had worked out as planned. He wondered why he had to rely on fools to try and complete the simplest of tasks but the answer continued to elude him. Still, putting his misgivings aside, he was grateful to have their support. Times were difficult and he needed all the help he could muster over the coming months, even if sacrifices had to be made. His quiet moment of contemplation was disturbed when somebody knocked gently on his door. He quickly sat upright, wiped his bearded mouth with the back of his hand and grabbed his quill from the desk.

Who is it? he asked, turning slightly to face the door.

It's Warden Philips, Revered One. Might I have a moment of your time?

Yes, yes - do come in, but this had better be important. It’s my rest time you’re interrupting now.

The door was pushed open slightly and a young red-headed male poked his head through the gap in the doorway. Indeed, it's of the upmost importance, High Warden. I wouldn't dare to disturb you otherwise.

Well, do come in, I'm not used to discussions with floating heads.

Warden Philips managed a weak smile and entered the chamber. He wore the same dark, elegant robe as Denlik; the only difference was the purple sash around his waist. In his right hand, he held a simple, wooden staff by his side.

Denlik eyed the door. If this is good news then please leave the door open, otherwise shut it. I don't wish for any of our less devoted followers to overhear and lose faith in our teachings.

Of course. We wouldn't want that to occur.

Warden Philips closed the door and returned his gaze to Denlik, a sombre expression on his face. High Warden, I've come to speak to you about the priestess.

Denlik shook his head. Oh, no! Just when I thought nothing else could go wrong today. Has she finally managed to convert one of our own to her ways?

Not quite.

Wait, don't tell me. Have the fools forgotten to lock that side door again? Did she escape?

Warden Philips turned his gaze to the floor momentarily. No. Actually, it's far worse than that. You're not going to enjoy hearing this.

Well, spit it out, man!

Sister Warren is no more.

No more what? Has she relinquished her sisterhood?

Oh my, no. When I say no more, I merely mean no more is she in this physical realm.

Denlik shut his eyes and sighed. She's dead?

Yes, I'm afraid so. She somehow managed to break free from her cell and it appears she may have took pity on the afflicted.

The afflicted? Why ever would someone take pity on them? They're beyond saving.

Her faith in the old gods may have something to do with it. Perhaps she thought she'd be able to help them.

I still don't understand why you continue to keep them locked up. You won't find any answers to our problems from them. I would've had them destroyed by now.

Well, from time to time I do continue to glean useful information by studying them. It's done no harm until now.

Did Sister Warren manage to release them?

No, High Warden. They're still secure but there's not much remaining of the sister. She ventured a little too close to their cells.

Denlik shivered. That's a terrible way to perish but, nevertheless, it's of her own doing. We must hold a ceremony later to assist in her passing.

Warden Philips nodded. Yes. I will see to it. What should I do with her remains?

If there's any flesh remaining, gather it up. We can use it in the ceremony. It should help us to obtain a stronger bond with the cosmos. Also, send her clothes to the scullery for cleaning.

Yes, High Warden. I must also mention that this does now put us in a rather difficult situation with the local community. With the priestess now dead, it'll be more difficult than ever to convince the nearby towns and villages of our sincerity.

Denlik placed his quill in a groove on the desk and stood. We will manage. Perhaps it's for the best. Sister Warren was difficult to persuade and I was doubtful of her willingness to reason with us. At least now we can tell the truth and declare that she has passed away. There'll be no need for further falsehoods.

Warden Philips nodded. Then I will see to her remains and organise the ceremony, High Warden.

Denlik edged closer, his hands clasped together at his waist. One more thing. Have any more of the Walkers returned since the incident with Veldrigg?

No. Veldrigg was the last Walker to reappear although he's rather sporadic of late and doesn't remain here for long. He's deteriorating rapidly and I'm not convinced he'll retain his faculties for much longer.

Damn it. What lengths do we have to go to in order to claim them all before it's too late?

We're doing better than expected. At the last count, we believe there's about twelve remaining.

Denlik frowned. As far as I'm concerned, twelve is twelve too many. This has a significant and most detrimental effect on everything in both a physical and spiritual sense. We need them back and dealt with before more damage is caused.

Warden Philips nodded. "I assure you, Revered One,