The Z Word

By W.C. Ravens

I prefer thanatophilia. It just sounds sexier.

Necro has been taunted, humiliated and abused over gifts she never asked for and never understood. The cruel reality of a world of ignorance cost her what little identity she possessed. She can barely even remember her own name, simply going by the descriptive 'Necro.'

She spent years scouring the Earth, seeking Witches, Shamans, Brujahs and Voodoo Priests and she has come to the conclusion there is no one else like her. No one who rivals her affinity with the dead. Now she's returned home with the Zombie Bride's she's collected in her travels. A cabal of religious fanatics await her, but what's worse? Fanatics or ex-cheerleaders with a grudge?

Necro is no longer a lost girl, she's found herself and now to save those she loves she will bring hell to earth and kick-start the zombie apocalypse. Woe to those who threaten her loved ones.

• Language: English
• Publisher: W.C. Ravens
• Release date: Sep 6, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311772527

Book preview

Chapter One

12:01. A minute past midnight on All Souls Eve. Halloween. Samhain. Different cultures knew the day by different names but they all knew it for the same reasons. It was the time when the veil between the worlds was at its thinnest and the ghouls and goblins could walk amongst the living unknown, when the shades, spectres and ghosts of all those who had come before could touch our world again. It was also the time when Necro was at her most vulnerable, the clock ticked over and she felt it pass through her like ice water coursing through her veins, a chill over her skin as she shuddered in her soft plush bed and breathed out mist. Her breath was a dense fog that rose above her and that no amount of heat could keep away. It was the cold within her, the chill winds and ice waters of death that infused her soul. Forever a part of her. It had been so long since she had felt any other way that she couldn’t remember what it was like to be warm, to feel heat touch her body or even to simply blush as warmth rose through her cheeks. So cold and yet so alive. As if the very essence of death that resided within her made her understand, made her feel, life in a way that no one else could comprehend. After all how could they? How could the normal mundane little people running about their lives understand what it was like to exist beyond their paradigm, beyond their understanding? She could truly comprehend life because she was death.

The old saying went that you couldn’t have the sweet without the bitter because without the contrast how could you really appreciate it, how could you understand it? Necro slid along the soft sheets of her king sized bed, her hands ran over the solid oak frame, it was so sturdy, so enduring and it felt so good to feel it beneath her cold hands. She spent so much of her life beyond the confines of her own mind and body that it was nice to feel the reality of the world around her, to know it was actually real.

A shudder passed over Necro again and it was a distinctly unpleasant sensation. Her skin itched as if something was pawing at her, trying to crawl its way inside of her. All Hallows Eve. It was a beautiful time of year for it brought her abilities to an unparalleled level, the things she could do? Amplified a hundred fold for that night. It also made her a beacon in the night, a halogen flare summoning all the nasty wondering souls and monstrous entities that craved existence. They were drawn to her, some for her help, others to consume her, to devour her body and soul. The first time it had happened she had only been eight years old and she could still feel the echoes of the wraith inside her body, unfurling like a weed and taking root deep within her. Sometimes she had wondered if that was what had made her the way she was, disconnected from the world, she wondered if that wraith had taken more of her than she had realised. Necro closed her eyes at those thoughts, she really didn’t want to dwell on it but come All Hallows Eve it was all she could think about because she knew that particular wraith was still out there, still waiting for the moment to strike. The moment when she was vulnerable. It had tasted her, devoured a piece of her, and it had grown so strong.

If she was honest it was that particular wraith that kept Necro hidden away on all Hallows Eve. Locked in her home behind every protective ward, spell and conjuration she had learned in her travels. And she had learned oh so many. Every culture in the world knew something about death, they might have embraced it or feared it, but they all had their own beliefs in how to repel the unwanted and malicious shades that had stalked their ancestors. Most of it was just silly superstition, but some of it? Necro had learned that some of it was extraordinarily useful. Iron for instance, a number of cultures believed that by hanging an iron horse shoe in your home you could drive away spirits and welcome good luck. As far as she could tell the horse shoe part was absurd but iron? There was something about the metal that disturbed, even pained, spectres. Strike a ghost with something iron and you could shatter their visage, dispel them for a time, with the weaker spectres it could even destroy them entirely. Necro had iron shavings scattered along every entrance to her home, every window, every door way, inside and out, no spirit could cross them. None that she had encountered at any rate. A strong wind set off the wind chimes outside and Necro shuddered, it was said the sound of bells was unpleasant for spectres and she wondered if that didn’t apply to her in some way. Every time the chimes sounded she felt as if she was being dislodged from her body; it was a queer sensation and difficult to explain but they made her queasy. The moment the sun rose the chimes would be taken down and locked away until next year. The iron didn’t faze her in the slightest but the chimes? She shuddered again as another wave passed over her. She kind of hated ghosts. For god’s sake she was a freaking necromancer! At least that was the closest terminology that had discovered for herself. She didn’t really know what the hell she was; only that she had power over the dead. Particularly over corpses, she could animate them, reanimate, rot, restore, manipulate. Give her a corpse, even a disgusting, festering, bloating, stinking thing and she was like a little girl at Christmas, but one little ghost? How she loathed them. They were insidious, deceitful little tricksters and she didn’t seem to have an iota of control over them. In fact it was kind of the opposite, half the time she couldn’t tell the difference between a spectre and a living breathing human and so they could get close to her, and once they touched her? They crawled inside of her and tried to take control. It was unpleasant to say the least.

Necro sighed and rubbed her hands over the various quartz and tigers eye bracelet she wore. The gems didn’t seem to do much despite numerous folklores saying they were protective charms, but even if they didn’t actually work they gave her a little peace of mind.

Necro shuddered again only this time it was in pure carnal pleasure as a pair of cool arms wrapped around her and held her tight. Without a thought she leant back into the protective embrace and a soft smile lifted her lips.

You need never fear them, Angeni’s voice was soft and tinted with an old world formality, a careful consideration to every word she spoke.

Necro turned in the embrace and looked up at Angeni before she received a chaste kiss, electricity sparked between them quite literally. The power that flowed between them prickled and invigorated, she could feel her innate necromantic energies reaching deep inside of her lover and searching her out. But Angeni was flawless as ever. For a woman that was almost a hundred and fifty years old Angeni was perfect. Her skin was a dark beautiful Native American complexion that was slightly lightened by her German ancestry; her eyes were dark and serious at all times. If it was true that eyes were the windows to the soul than looking into Angeni was like looking into an abyss, no one was home. But maybe a soul wasn’t everything, maybe a soul was just the piece of the person that kept going when the body faded, maybe a soul wasn’t all that necessary, maybe it had nothing to do with being human, with feeling and caring, with loving? Because Necro knew without a doubt that Angeni loved her and it went far beyond some simulated emotion. Her soul may have long past to the other side but she was every bit as real and feeling as anyone Necro had ever known. She was just a little reserved.

That’s sweet of you Angel, but—

Shh, Angeni cut her off with a finger lingering over Necro’s lips, flesh, blood, soul, spirit or something else entirely. No harm shall befall you in this life or any other. I would say so long as I breathe… but that might be a little redundant.

Necro couldn’t help but smile at that.

Have I mentioned recently how much I love you? Necro asked. Angeni took Necro’s hand and placed it against her cool un-beating chest.

Every moment I walk this earth I feel what you feel, my heart does not need to beat to feel your love.

Angeni had been with Necro for almost a decade and yet the simple sincerity with which she spoke still moved Necro. Angeni never lied, never spoke half-truths or obscurities, she said what she meant and meant every word she said. Sometimes Necro wondered what she had been like when she was alive, had she been the same? She knew that one of her reanimations didn’t change all that much from the person they had been, after all Caitlin was a bitch in life and in death, and Kaley was—well Kaley was an odd one; vivacious, exuberant, but death had brought out a slightly darker edge in her. Necro believed that was more of a psychological impact than a repercussion from the reanimation process. She had brought back some people who didn’t change so much as an iota, in particular there had been one Texan kid, the son of a wealthy industrialist who had woken up and continued on without a speck of change. The same cheeky, fun loving, kind of misogynistic, man he had been before his death. With just the thought of him Necro felt a change in the air, a pressure that filled her as she felt him thousands of miles away celebrating Halloween. Felt him revelling in his lack of life and all the joys it could still bring. Necro didn’t often leave a reanimated corpse running around on his own but the Texan was a special case. His mother had paid her a not so small fortune to bring him back and Necro was oh so very good at what she did. She checked in every few months and smoothed out any wrinkles, kept him young, fresh and very much alive. She wondered how many women had recently screwed a corpse and had no idea… That would make for an interesting day in their therapist’s office if they ever knew.

Necro winced as a spectre touched the house; icy winds were cast off from the wards and wrapped themselves around Necro with each touch. She could feel the spectres outside testing her wards, trying to find a way inside. So far no luck and she honestly doubted they would. While she had all her little rituals and traditional protections from shades and ghosts in place her main ward was herself. She had infused every brick and tile of her home with her own personal energy, her own necromantic power that wrapped the house to form a barrier to the ghosts. She watched as shadows of vines with nasty thorns writhed over the walls of her room. The vines were her interpretation of her power, the physical representation wasn’t important in the slightest, but Necro liked the vines. Liked the way they moved and ensnared. Liked the way they made feel. Anyone else who looked at that wall would only see a wall painted in a dark shade of maroon, but for Necro it was a shadow play of constantly shifting images.

She cast her gaze over Angeni and her smile became satisfied and just a touch possessive. While no one would have seen the vines that ensnared the house the ones that wrapped around Angeni were plain for the world to see. They were a beautiful collection of dark tattoos that stretched over her arms and back, vines with thorns so sharp the tattoos appeared to actually be digging into Angeni’s skin, digging so deeply one couldn’t help but wonder why they weren’t drawing blood. The tattoos were half physical and half metaphysical; they moved and writhed over Angeni’s body, forever marking her as Necro’s.

Another spectre struck the house and Necro glanced out the window despairingly. She was so sick of it! She was the one with the power, the one who could make the dead jump to do her bidding and yet a few lousy ghosts scared her. Three hundred and sixty four days of the year she could just ignore them but damn All Hallows Eve, and damn the veil between the living and the dead. It weakened and she got to spend the night jumping at shadows.

Sometimes I think about spending every Halloween in Ireland. Necro mused aloud. It’s so peaceful there.

As I recall the banshees were not so fond of the dead, nor of you. Angeni pointed out and Necro had to concede that point. What a shock that had been to discover there were no zombies in Ireland, the wail of the banshee that was so good at predicting death also seemed to have the rather disconcerting effect of driving off death. Zombie’s simply collapsed where they stood and Shades were torn apart by the wails.

Come to think of it, they did make me kind of queasy as well. Necro admitted as she sighed. Besides what’s the point of going somewhere if you can’t go with me? Angeni smiled knowingly. She was too refined to say that was what she had meant.

A piercing cry broke through the night and Necro groaned as she looked out the window again.

Why can’t they just go away? she cried out, I’m so damn tired of them. And yet when the cries of the spirits went silent a moment later Necro didn’t feel relieved, she felt alarmed. Against her better judgment she cast out her unearthly senses and let them brush out into the night, she touched the walls of her home and found the spirits had retreated… no… not retreated exactly. There was a distorted remnant of their essence hanging around that was slowly dissipating. She cast her senses out further and frowned as she felt the retreating forms of several ghosts. If she didn’t know better she would have said they were running away… oh wait she did know better. That was when she felt him. His presence wasn’t defined exactly, it wasn’t entirely manifested, it was all encompassing like an oncoming storm. But that still didn’t do it justice. She shuddered as his presence enclosed her house in a maelstrom of malevolence and rage, she could feel his monstrosity bubbling around her, screaming to get inside. His very presence had shredded the other spectres, shredded them and devoured their remains.

It was the monster from her childhood. The wraith that had crawled inside her body and tried to devour her very soul. It always found her. Every All Hallows Eve, it didn’t matter if she was in Africa, Australia or the Hamptons, it always found her and it always stalked her desperate for another piece. She could still feel the trembling mess it had made of her the first time, the parts of her that had been torn away as it fed.

Necro tensed and Angeni’s arms tightened around her. She knew what was out there, knew how much it scared Necro. Necro loved Angeni so much but in life she had been a warrior, she faced what she feared and killed it, she didn’t really understand what it was like to be afraid of something she couldn’t fight. And despite her best efforts her silent comfort wasn’t always what Necro needed, the feel of her wrapped around Necro helped, but sometimes Necro needed more. Like Kaley. Kaley understood what it was like to be afraid and she had the emotional range to deal with Necro’s fears whether they were rational or irrational. Kaley was the shoulder to cry on, to confide in, she was warmth and passion, whereas Angeni was cool and intense, powerful, beautiful, but always the warrior at heart.

You wish Kaley was here. Angeni said quietly, there was no accusation or upset in her voice, it was a simple statement. Just another thing Necro loved about her, Angeni knew her limitations, and comfort wasn’t her forte.

Do you think that makes me a bad person? Necro asked, looking up into Angeni’s cool brown eyes. Wishing for one lover to be with me when another is already here? so sue her, she was a little insecure. She had spent years being taunted; teased, abused and mistreated, insecurity came with the turf.

I wish she was here too, Angeni conceded with a small smile. She is better at this then I am. She could chase away your fears in her way, in the way you need, and I could chase away the monsters in my way. With iron and salt. Necro smiled back at her. Angeni had done that more than once; she had run into the spectral maelstrom with an iron fire poker and a bag of salt and forced the wraith to retreat for the night. If Necro asked she would do it again without hesitation, but that would have left Necro alone and that would have been worse. It was possible she had a few abandonment issues to go along with her insecurity issues. She would have rather had Angeni by her side all night than be apart for even a few minutes, better to hear that wraith crashing against the wards all night while Angeni was with her. There was also a part of her that worried the wraith could actually hurt Angeni, it devoured other spirits after all, fed on their emanations to make itself stronger, what if it could tear Angeni apart as well? It was probably an irrational fear, the vines that wreathed Angeni’s body were protection against outside forces imposing their will on her… but then again Necro had very little traffic with spectres, it was possible the maelstrom wraith could simply ride over the protections Necro had imposed…

The wraith began to howl and Necro just wanted to crawl up into a little ball and hide in the corner.

Why won’t it just go away? she begged. Angeni’s arms tightened around her and they slumped onto the bed together.

It will be alright, Angeni told her. It will be gone soon.

Thunder rumbled through the sky and lightening crackled, a bright flash split the night and Necro perked up. Her eyes eagerly watching the window as a light rain began to fall, a light rain that turned into a torrential downpour. Another round of thunder boomed through the night sky and she could have leaped for joy. She reached out with her senses and felt the maelstrom wraith retreating into the night, its dark malevolent force disappearing as the falling rain ground it away. Most traditional folklores had some kind of legend or belief involving running water and evil spirits; they believed that the undead couldn’t cross running water and that running water would ground mystical spirits. All of which was true, well except for the undead part, zombies were just plain dead no matter how amazingly animated they were and they had no problem crossing running water. Spirits on the other hand? A spirit or spectre caught in a light burst of rain could be trickled out of existence in the same way that sun rise would wash them out of existence. Simply burn them away if they weren’t protected in a dark safe place, usually their graves. Necro had no illusions that the sudden thunderstorm would wash away the maelstrom wraith but it would certainly hurt it, drive it underground and well away from Necro until the night had past. And come morning? All Hallows Eve would be done. The veil between the worlds would be renewed and that wraith wouldn’t be a threat for another year.

The heavy clamour of rain was a sweet melody and Necro fell asleep curled up in Angeni’s lap with a small smile etched into her lips.

Chapter Two

The smell of clean air and rain was heavy in the room when Necro woke up. From the confines of her sheets she looked towards the open window and the light misting of rain that was still falling through the early morning. She breathed deeply and relished in the aroma of the wet air, there was just something about it that made her feel all warm and cosy inside. With her next breath she let her senses wonder out, she touched her wards that were still well and truly intact before she brushed beyond them and out into the heavily overcast morning. She touched the woods the edged her property and pushed further, she stretched her senses out for miles and felt no trace of the spectres that had plagued her night. Balance was restored; as much as it could be when she was talking about ghosts, zombies and the unnatural order. She supposed if balance was truly restored it would mean she no longer existed given the power she wielded was kind of in defiance of the natural order.

The aroma of burnt coffee and overly crisped bacon filtered into the room and Necro rolled out of bed, at some point in the night she must have donned her silky black negligee although she didn’t have the faintest memory of doing so. It felt smooth against her skin as she padded barefoot across the cool wooden floor and headed towards the bathroom. The tiles were cold against her feet but she didn’t mind the cold, being cold was engrained in her. She splashed some warm water against her face and tied her long raven black tresses back in a loose knot. For a moment she stared at her reflection, she was so fair of skin that alabaster was the only word to do her justice. And her hair was so dark that it should have made her skin tone appear ghastly and yet it actually accentuated it. Or maybe she was just being vain? It was hard not to think of herself as beautiful when everyone she knew was constantly telling her she was gorgeous. Then again ninety nine per cent of the people she knew she had brought back from the dead… so maybe they were a little biased when it came to their opinions of her.

Although Caitlin was about as unbiased as it was possible to be, in fact she was kind of a bitch most of the time and she never had a problem with letting Necro know when she looked crappy. In fact she could be quite vocal in her disapproval, usually of whatever Necro was wearing unless she had picked it out herself. It was funny really once Necro wore the exact ensemble Caitlin had made her wear just the week before and yet it was suddenly horrible and out of fashion. She sighed as her thoughts continued to dwell on Caitlin, yet another person she missed and longed to see again. Whereas Kaley had only been gone a few weeks Necro hadn’t seen Caitlin in almost six months. She was somewhere in Central America based on her last postcard, but that had been almost three weeks ago and Caitlin did so love to travel. It was hard to be apart from them but despite her own issues Necro wanted Caitlin and Kaley to both have their own lives, they might have been dead, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t still live. For Caitlin that meant visiting every exotic place on earth and finding all new ways to be a bitch, for Kaley… Kaley was a different story. Most of the time she didn’t go more than a few miles from Necro, in fact Necro wasn’t entirely sure what had spurred Kaley’s little trip and Angeni had been strangely quiet on the topic. If Necro asked her directly she knew Angeni would tell her, but she didn’t want to do that, usually if one of the girls was keeping secrets it was for a reason.

Necro looked at herself in the mirror for another moment before gently padding her face dry and heading towards the kitchen.

When she got there she found Angeni fussing with a garnish, lightly spreading it over the runny eggs and overcooked bacon. Necro glanced at the coffee and knew without a doubt it was an undrinkable burnt mess but she hopped onto the stool at the kitchen counter and leant over to kiss Angeni’s cheek before she took a swig of the coffee and forced it down with a smile.

Morning Angel, Necro offered.

How is it? Angeni asked. Her eyes on the coffee.

Oh, it’s wonderful. Necro replied; the expression on Angeni’s face was disbelieving. Very disbelieving.

I burnt it again. Didn’t I?

No? Necro offered.

Angeni sighed. I’m sorry my love.

Oh Angel, Necro squeezed Angeni’s hand on the counter. It’s really ok. It’s the thought that counts. In life Angeni had been a warrior, she didn’t cook, she didn’t clean, she fought and she killed for her tribe. And she