The Necromancer's Great Adventure

By Mortimer Jackson

Meet Sebastian Grimm; funeral director, private detective, and part time necromancer. He gives what most funeral directors don't normally offer. Peace to those who need it most; the dead. One final wish to depart unto those they've left behind.

One day, when Sebastian consoles a woman who recently committed suicide, Sebastian finds that not all is as it seems, and foul play is definitely afoot. Adventure and hilarity ensue in the first short story by author Mortimer Jackson.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mortimer Jackson
• Release date: Jul 4, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465778437

Mortimer Jackson

Mortimer Jackson is a self-published author living in the underbellies of suburban California, where as a novelist he writes in the hopes of one day joining the ranks of the overrated.

Book preview

The Necromancer’s Great Adventure

By

Mortimer Jackson

Smashwords Edition

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Copyright 2011 The Morning Dread

Smashwords Edition

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The Necromancer’s Great Adventure

Chapter 1

The Necromancer’s Sympathy

All of us carries in our person a talent. A trait that separates us from everyone else, making us apt in fields that would otherwise overwhelm others, and thus gifted in certain areas of expertise.

26 year old Sebastian Grimm, much like everyone else in the world, possessed a unique, individual talent of his own. However, unlike everyone else in the world, his gift was one of an extraordinary nature. That is to say in short, that he could speak to the dead.

What do you mean I’m dead?asked the dead woman. Her skin was cold and blue. Her lips dark yet pale.

Sebastian stuttered and hesitated and locked his hands inside his pockets.

Yes, Sebastian Grimm had in him the capacity to speak to the unliving kind. But just as every individual carries a unique weakness for every strength, Sebastian Grimm too had an area for which he had little expertise. And an ironic one it was indeed. For despite his grand ability to summon and commune with those of the long and/or recently deceased, he struggled direly when it came down to carrying a simple conversation.

Of course, it could be argued that conversations with the dead were anything but simple.

I mean, Sebastian said, rubbing his cleft chin as though from somewhere within held the precise words he was looking for. Failing to conjure such a thing, he added simply, You’re dead.

And why can’t I get off this slab? Why are all the lights out? Why are there candles everywhere? Why is there a drawing on the ceiling?

Less than ten seconds alive, and already the girl would not let up. Of all the procedures that followed this sort of thing, Sebastian had found that what had easily been the most challenging aspect of bringing people back, was actually having to speak with them once they were alive. Buying new candles for the ceremony, finding a full pint of cow’s blood to hide underneath the subject’s bed, and taking the dedicated effort to chalk in a series of flawless, even shapes over the ceiling. No dear reader. For