“Sing a song, Night Wolf, sing a song, mommy’s boy!” sang
Maria Kevin in an off-key voice while she strummed her guitar. Sure enough, the
spirit wolf glowing with blue energy howled at the full moon like the happy
hound dog he was. The ghostly beast was rewarded with chin scratches and ear
rubs from her elfish bard mommy. “Good boy, Night Wolf. Good, good puppy boy.”
The two of them sat outside a rickety old church on the
grassy field together while the evening’s wind caressed them with cool air.
Such was a pleasant evening for rest and relaxation, considering the long
journey they had together playing concerts. Maria’s pointy red hat, black
halter top, brown shorts, and brown leather boots gave her the appearance of a
folk rock goddess. But to Night Wolf, she was still the down-to-earth spirit
animal mother he snuggled up to every night.
“A lot of good memories come from this church, Night Wolf,”
said Maria in a pleasant whispery voice. “This was where I first learned to
play the guitar and sing to my heart’s content. There wasn’t a single elf in
our village who didn’t come to this church every time they wanted some
spiritual music. It makes me wonder what happened to this place that it got
so…empty and depressing.” Those last words were punctuated with a small frown
and a slight whimper from Night Wolf. The spirit animal tucked his head on
Maria’s lap and earned himself more pettings behind the ears.
And then Night Wolf’s ears perked up as he lifted his head
and barked rapidly at something going on in the church. “What is it, boy?
What’s going on?” Maria asked. Night Wolf blitzed inside the church barking and
howling while the elf bard struggled to keep up. The inside of the church
looked as dilapidated and depressing as the outside. Stained glass windows were
shattered, wooden beams splintered and peeled, the carpeted floor was soaked in
animal urine and rainwater, and the roof had a hole through it big enough to
fit a family of bears through.
Maria’s frowning sorrow intensified when she saw Night Wolf
scraping at the basement door and howling in a pathetic, childish dog voice.
She didn’t like to see him in such misery, but the purple energy glow behind
the door was too much to ignore. The bard trotted down the stairs to the
basement door and slowly opened it after backing Night Wolf away with her
slender arm.
The source of the purple glow was a mere mortal human with
an aura around his pale-skinned body. With dark robes to contrast his
disturbingly white skin, he pointed his fingers and shot purple lighting into
what appeared to be a bubbling cauldron of some kind. Maria’s eyes widened as
the mysterious liquid boiled and splashed while Night Wolf crouched on the
floor and whimpered again. The elf covered her ears while the spirit dog yelped
after a gunshot-like blast erupted from the cauldron and gray smoke filled the
air.
“Damn it!” the elderly wizard yelled. “This is ridiculous!
How many times do I have to…” The old man turned around to reveal his
baldheaded, wrinkly face to his new intruders and it became clear to Maria
Kevin who this man really was. “What are you doing down here, my child? I
haven’t seen that face in such a long time. You’re all grown up.”
“Reverend Dominick…how long have you been dwelling in this
basement?” asked a dumbfounded Maria.
“Please, call me Stigma. And as far as your question
goes…I’ve been down here for much too long,” sighed the priest as he sat down
on a wooden stool holding his head in his hands. “What am I going to do, Miss
Kevin? I’ve tried so hard to concoct this spell, but nothing seems to work. I
can’t find the answers I’m looking for. I’m just…I’m a wreck, my dear.”
Night Wolf trotted over to Stigma Dominick whining and
pouting. “I know, my fluffy friend,” said the priest. “Nothing about this is
fair.” He treated the large animal to a scratch behind the ears and a back rub,
to which Night Wolf panted and smiled with his tongue hanging out.
“You can’t keep torturing yourself like this, Stigma,” said
Maria. “You have to let go eventually. Your father’s death wasn’t your fault
and never will be. Time heals all wounds, but time isn’t going to be kind to
your father if you go through with this necromancy. You’re already older than
he was when the accident occurred.”
“I know, Maria, trust me, I know,” said Stigma as he languidly
continued petting Night Wolf. “It’s just that…I never got to say goodbye to
him. I never told him I was sorry. In my family, showing feelings was never
allowed. I’ve kept it all on the inside for…for…” He couldn’t hold it in any
longer. Tears poured from the old man’s eyes while Night Wolf whined and licked
his salty face. “I’m sorry. I really am.”
Maria placed a tender hand on Stigma’s shoulder and said,
“You don’t need to apologize to me. But if you really wanted to make things up
to me, you’ll leave this…lab behind and learn to live your life again.”
Night Wolf rested his head on Stigma’s lap while the
necromancer said, “I wish it was that easy, Miss Kevin. But if I leave this
church and venture back into the city, they’ll have me locked up in an even
more disgusting place than this broken down church. They blame me for
everything, Maria, and I tend to agree with them.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” said Maria while stroking
the reverend’s shoulders. “You never really bothered to ask their opinions, did
you? Do you know for sure that they believe it’s an accident?”
Stigma swatted Maria’s arm away and snapped, “I don’t know,
Miss Kevin, do you think I should take a poll? Do you think it’s as easy as
waltzing back to the village after all of these years? Time never healed my
wounds and it won’t heal theirs either! My father was a trusted leader in our
community! People loved him and came to him for help! Who are they going to
turn to now that it’s over?! They won’t let bygones by bygones, Maria. They’ll
have my head on a silver platter!”
Stigma’s diatribe caused Night Wolf to yelp and back up a
few paces before laying down and covering his face with his paws. Maria’s fists
balled up and her face contorted into stern anger. “If you really feel guilty
about what you’ve supposedly done, then you’ll take whatever punishment comes
your way. Running away and trying to bring your dad back from the dead isn’t
going to help one bit. For all you know, this spell you’re trying to concoct
could bring him back as a zombie abomination. I’m sure that’ll look great in
the family album!”
The necromancer grabbed Maria tightly by the shoulders and,
with Night Wolf barking in the background, screamed, “And what exactly am I
running away from?! Huh?! I’d rather be stuck down here for another twenty
years than in some shit hole where the guards talk like they’re the fucking
overseer! At least here I can find some closure! If your idea of closure is
rotting in a cell with judgmental assholes watching over me, then you can take
your morals and go to hell!” Stigma threw Maria to the floor and put minor
dents in her guitar. Night Wolf rushed over and licked his master’s face before
the necromancer shouted, “Get out! Leave me to my research!”
With one hand in her tear-stained face and the other holding
the guitar, Maria stood up and ran up the basement steps with Night Wolf
whining and chasing after her. The two of them bolted out of the church before
the elf bard tripped on a rock and spent the next few minutes crying on her
knees. Night Wolf licked the saltiness from her face while the bard wrapped her
arms around her spirit animal. “This isn’t over, Stigma. ...This isn’t over by
a long shot!” she shouted.
She gazed angrily into Night Wolf’s eyes and whispered, “Get
him, boy. Sick ‘em!” The dog barked fiercely and stormed back into the church
while Maria stood up and waited outside. She wiped the tears from her eyes
while listening to Night Wolf snarl and chew at human flesh.
“Ouch! What the hell are you doing, you stupid dog?! Leave
me alone! Stop it!” shouted Stigma from inside the church. Maria yanked the
strings from her guitar and waited with her arms folded. Sure enough, Stigma
came running and yelping outside with Night Wolf hot on his tail. His robes
were ripped and his skin was pierced, but he was otherwise okay.
Maria caught Stigma in a headlock and wrestled him to the
ground before switching behind and tying the necromancer’s hands with the
busted guitar strings. “Shut up!” she snapped. The harsh tone immediately put
an end to Stigma’s whining and yelping. “You’re coming with me to the village
whether you want to or not! Enough of this guilty garbage! Instead of saying
sorry to your dear old daddy, you’re going to say it to people who won’t end up
like fucking zombies! Come on, on your feet!”
The elf bard headlocked Stigma once again and dragged him to
his feet before hauling him off to the village. The necromancer pleaded and
protested, but Night Wolf nipped his heels every time the whining got too
intense. Maria also squeezed harder.
The trek to the village wasn’t long enough to warrant
exhaustion from anybody in this group of three, although when Maria released
the headlock and cut the guitar strings, Stigma clutched his chest and panted
due to how hard the elf squeezed. His eyes bulged out of their sockets when he
realized where he was. This forest village was complete with stone houses, tree
houses, and many, many elven warriors. The fruit was more abundant than Stigma
remembered it. The vegetables looked delicious enough to garner a drooling
response. Would it be the last time he was privileged to eat such beautiful
food?
It seemed to be that way when a group of leather-armored
elves carrying poleaxes approached him with stern looks on their faces. The
warriors, Maria, and Night Wolf all circled him with greedy, judgmental eyes.
The captain of this squadron said in a flat tone, “How could you, Reverend?
What the hell is wrong with you?”
Stigma Dominick huddled into himself and shook with
nervousness. “I’m sorry…I really am…”
“You should be sorry,” said the elf captain. “You should be
sorry for torturing yourself for so long.” Stigma lifted his head with a
surprised look on his face. “We’ve missed you, dear friend. I’m sure you’ve
missed being in the sunlight. Look at you, you’re a mess! We don’t blame you
for what happened to your father. We blame you for abandoning us in our time of
need. But now you’re safe with us again, necromancer.”
Stigma’s eyes were drowning in tears once again as the
circle of elves closed in on him and gave him a much-needed group hug. Night
Wolf pawed at his leg and howled at the full moon. Maria Kevin stroked Stigma’s
bald scalp and said, “You’re great at giving sermons, but you’re terrible at
listening.”
“I’m sorry, Maria. I’m sorry for everything…”
