The Necromancer

By Adi Kakshavekshak

The citizens of Xanthiam have locked themselves in. The doors are shut, windows sealed, and no one dares to step outside. An unknown heathen lurks in the shadows. It has already murdered 17 citizens and is out on the hunt for more meat. Every single citizen is scared, but Detective Paetar has discovered a journal notebook that may unravel everything...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Citadel of Being
• Release date: Apr 9, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201119782

Book preview

Chapter 1

The Murderer

On the northern end of the river, at the edge of the forest, there was an abandoned shack. It was broken from within, with termite set in its rotting wood and algae creeping up at its edges. No one had lived there in the last 50 years, and now, nobody even knew that it existed. But one strange old man was locked inside that desolate house, and his eyes had been plucked out, leaving him blind to his surroundings, and his mind had been perverted with such a torrent of black speech that he could not think clearly even for a single second. He had given up on any thought of hope, and just like his vision, his mind had gone completely dark as well. He was just waiting for the tormentor to come back and finish the deed.

Outside, in the wet field, a carcass was thrown near the stump of the dead tree, and amidst wilting flowers and fading grass, a small pack of wolves were feasting upon the meat of the hunted deer. But, the moment their nose caught the strange scent, their tails went flying underneath their legs, and all of them scattered from the scene and fled into the depths of the forest.

A dark, cloaked figure was approaching the shack, and his pale face was hidden by the shadows in which he walked. Like a wolf, he scanned the surroundings and recognising the putrid stench, he sensed the presence of other predators and hastened to proceed to his business quickly.

The shack door opened with a creak, and the ominous sounds of his footsteps were heard by the blinded old man. His voice rose with a whimper in his throat but died within as if it were a moth that flutters its wings the final time before its death. The cloaked figure sensed his fear and said: ‘So... Did you retrieve it? Do you remember where your son and his wife live? Where their daughter lives? Do you have the answer for me?’

A bolt of shiver ran down the spine of the old man and his chest trembled uncontrollably as he sensed the cloaked figure coming close to him. The letters of their address revolved in his thoughts, but he kept his lips tight shut and refused to reveal the location of his son to the abhorrent creature who had blinded him. He locked his tongue in between his mouth and maintained his silence.

The cloaked figure pulled out a steel dagger from the depth of its pocket, and it was almost as big as his arms. He touched the cold tip of the steel and caressed the skin of the old man with it before saying: ‘This fast that you have kept for your speech... Now is the last time to break it, my dear friend. Tell me. Do you have their address?’

A streak of tear issued from the damaged eye of that old man and slid across the cheek. But red hot anger coursed within the veins of the cloaked figure, and