Ayla's Supernatural Love Dungeon

Necromancer Origins

49 BC

Dust and sand swirled around Belladonna. A few small grains entered her nose causing her to sneeze. She pulled the brown fabric around her neck up over her nose leaving only her green eyes visible. The vast desert landscape glared back at her. In the far-off distance, the Pyramids of Giza shimmered in the blaring heat.

            By the time night fell Belladonna made her way to the burial chamber of one of the pyramids. She scoured each and every papyrus looking for a specific one. None of the papyrus rendered what she wanted. She picked up a nearby Osiris figure and tapped to discover it was hollow. She managed to open the figure to discover a papyrus that read “Book of Coming Forth by Day”.

            A small triumphant laugh escaped her lips. She continued reading the scroll and her smile fell. It was the scroll she needed, but at the same time, it was not. This scroll had the spells, prayers, and rituals of necromancy. However, it was the standard of proper burial and mummification. The scroll she needed was written by a Priest Kalim. She checked every hollow Osiris figure. Eventually, she found the scroll she needed. This particular papyrus written by Priest Kalim, was the only scroll that went against the traditional necromancy of Egypt. Priest Kalim was the first and only priest who ventured into the darker magic, the kind of magic that reanimated corpses. Upon her retrieval of the papyrus, Belladonna escaped the pyramid before grave robbers or the pharaoh’s guards showed up.

            Back in Greece Belladonna combined Priest Kalim’s work with the knowledge of Hecate’s magic and created the very first “Book of the Dead” that focused on bringing the dead back to life. This was only possible because Belladonna was a descendant of Hecate. When the book was completed, she hid it under the statue of the Goddess Hecate that was housed in a makeshift temple at the edge of Athens.

Whitechapel London England, September 1888

Edward “Ted” Stanley stood outside of the Crossingham’s lodging house. The deputy keeper exited the building and glanced at Mr. Stanley. Stanley turned up his nose and looked away from the gentleman. Shortly after Annie Chapman exited the lodging house and greeted Stanley.

            “Pensioner,” Annie said with a hint of lust in her voice.

Stanley leaned down and kissed her. She broke the kiss and grabbed him by the hand and led him into the lodging house. The couple walked to Annie’s rented double bed. Once on the bed, Annie slipped the suspenders that held up Stanley’s trousers. Stanley leaned forward and pushed her down onto the bed. His lips met hers feverishly. With the suspenders off his shoulders, his trousers fell down to his lower hips. He bunched her black skirt up to her hips leaving her lace-up boots on. Once her womanhood was exposed, Stanley slid his own manhood deep inside her. Annie gasped at the appendage inside her body. Stanley smirked at her reaction, pulled back so the tip of his cock was the only part inside of her, and then thrust hard and deep. She gasped again but covered up the noises she was making by pressing her lips against him.

            From Saturday to Monday, Stanley and Annie spent their time together in her double bed. Monday night Stanley left the lodging house. As he walked back to his residence a pang of guilt hit him. He expected Annie Chapman to be faithful and honest with him. He had even asked the deputy keeper, Timothy Donovan, to turn Annie away from the lodging if she brought other men with her. He hated her being a prostitute. What pained him the most, however, was his own lies. He told her that he was a retired sailor and a pensioner. In reality, he was a bricklayer laborer. He squished the guilt down and ignored it.

September 9th, 1888

            Stanley stumbled into the morgue or a poor excuse for one. It was nothing more than a shed. His eyes fell onto the body. His legs almost gave way as he stepped toward the gurney. The body was ashen-colored and bruised. The corner tried their best, but it was still obvious that Annie’s throat was cut. Stanley grabbed the coroner’s report and scanned through the medical jargon. The notes stated that Annie’s womb was removed and that whoever killed her had anatomical knowledge because of how the womb was removed. Tears ran down Stanley’s face as he read the report and glanced over at Annie’s body. A thread somewhere in Stanley’s body snapped.

            “I’ll bring you back Annie. I promise,” Stanley whispered as he kissed Annie’s forehead.

In a darkroom that was only lit by candles, Annie Chapman’s body lay in a circle. Stanley crouched in front of the body and next to him was Belladonna’s Book of the Dead. He grabbed a needle and peered over to the book. He poked his finger with the needle and rubbed his blood along the thread as he threaded it into the needle.

            “All life hangs by a thread. A fragile bond that only a necromancer can mend. With the blood of Hecate, the Goddess of Necromancy, I ask to erase death from my sight and make this right,” Stanley recited as he sowed Annie with the blood-soaked thread. A gray mist billowed from the circle and the strong scent of mint filled Stanley’s nose. Two figures appeared in the mist. One was a young woman with red wavy hair and a white robe with gold threading at the hem of the dress. The other was also a young woman with raven black hair, a black and silver robe, and a triple moon tiara graced her head.

            “What have you done?” the woman with red hair asked.

            “He has defiled the laws of life,” the second woman said.

            “Who are you?” Stanley asked.

            “I am Clotho, one of the Fate Goddesses. I spin the thread of life,” the woman with red hair answered.

            “I am Hecate, the Goddess of witchcraft and necromancy. As well as your ancestor,” the woman with raven black hair answered.

            “Please! Let Annie come back to life!”

Clotho and Hecate exchanged a look. “Life only moves in one way and what you are doing goes against the natural order,” the goddesses’ said in unison.

            “Fuck the natural order! She shouldn’t have died. I won’t allow her death to remain!”

Hecate sighed. “We can’t stop you, and we’ll grant this wish of yours.”

            “But only on one condition. You have changed the fate of humanity and the laws of life and death. For that a curse upon you and anyone that shares the blood of myself and Hecate” Clotho said.

The goddesses faded like ghost apparitions and when they completely disappeared, Annie breathed the breath of life.

            Stanley tugged the cloak around Annie. They couldn’t stay in London anymore. Since Annie was a reanimated corpse, it would be suspicious if a previously thought-dead woman was walking around. Annie’s skin was not blue or ashen color anymore since returning to life. Her skin if anything was still pale white and the sutures had turned invisible. Annie looked normal.

            “We need to go, my love,” Stanley said when the cloak covered Annie completely. In the dead of night, Stanley and Annie snuck out of the abandoned building and made their way to the docks to board the first ship departing.

            France 1891

            A bead of sweat dripped from Stanley’s brow. A mass of blond hair lay between Stanley’s legs. The mass bobbed up and down on Stanley’s hardened member. Annie crawled onto the bed and kissed Stanley, demanding his attention. Stanley pressed two fingers into Annie’s soaked cunt. He matched the pace of the blond that was deep-throated him as he fingered Annie. With a final hard suck, Stanley came inside the blond woman’s throat, and Annie came onto his fingers. The blond removed her mouth from Stanley’s manhood and began stroking him until the appendage was hard again. Once he was hard again, Stanley had Annie and the blond bent over on all fours. He slammed his manhood deep into the blond woman’s body and shoved his fingers into Annie’s womanhood. Annie shoved her lips against the blond woman’s. The two exchanged saliva as Stanley thrust his manhood deep into the blond and toyed with Annie’s clit with his fingers. As Stanley neared his climax his thrusts became frantic and he slammed harder into the blond, hitting the bundle of nerves. With a final burst of energy, Stanley blew his seed deep into the woman’s womb and fertilized the egg there. He collapsed next to the two women on the bed. Annie kissed him on his cheek as did the other woman.

            “Annie, Rosalie, I love you both,” Stanley said.

            “We love you too,” both women said in unison.

No sooner after the exchange of words Stanley’s heart gave out and embraced his untimely death. Following her lover and creator, Annie died too.