Ayla's Supernatural Love Dungeon

Part 2

Althea tapped at the computer at the nurses’ station as she double-checked the number of patients on file against the number of patients registered on the computer. Her concentration was interrupted by loud sirens blaring outside and growing ever closer to the hospital doors. Suddenly, the front doors to the ER burst open with paramedics wheeling a bloody mess on the stretcher.

            “Where are all the nurses? We have an emergency here!” yelled a paramedic.

Althea jumped from her seat and rushed to the paramedics. “What’s the situation?”

“Potential suicide. The guy stepped out and got freight trained by a transport bus. His body got dragged for at least a mile before witnesses noticed a blood trail under the bus.”

Althea turned her head and yelled into the void of the half-empty hospital. “Hey! We need help over here! Code Blue!”

Nurse Vera exited a bathroom when the bloody gurney zoomed past her. She pushed Althea away from the gurney and took charge. “Get out of here. This is for professional nurses, not high school volunteers.”

 Althea stood in the empty hallway and watched as the gurney wheeled into one of the ER rooms. Her heart rate increased as a voice inside her beamed with pride. “I can save him! I did it before.”

Althea snuck into the morgue. The overwhelming smell of bleach and other disinfectant products burned the inside of her nose and made her eyes water. She scurried to the computer and tucked a plastic bag under her arm as she tapped the keys to find the patient she encountered. She didn’t have a name, so she searched by cause of death, hit by a transport bus.

The case file popped open and Althea opened it quickly.

Patient’s name: Spencer Dewey DOB: 09/10/1989

COD: Hit by transport bus. It is unclear if this was an accidental suicide or if it was premeditated.

Althea scanned the rest of the file to locate where inside the morgue Spencer was located. She browsed the tables and the metal storage doors. When she found the number that was mentioned in Spencer’s file she quickly got to work. She dropped the bag of clothes on the floor. Then she rummaged through the pockets of her scrubs and pulled out the needle and spool of spider silk that her father gave her before he disappeared from her life.

            Althea pricked her finger on the needle and smeared the blood on the silk thread. With the silk thread covered in blood, she threaded the needle.

            “All life hangs by a thread. A fragile bond that only a necromancer can mend. With my blood, the blood of the Goddess Clotho, I erase death from my sight and make this right,” Althea chanted as she sowed Spencer with the blood-soaked thread. When she tied off the thread, the stitches glowed a neon green before turning invisible.

Spencer fluttered his eyes open. Althea waited for the disorientation to fade before she asked, “Are you okay?”

Spencer’s gaze returned to her. Althea noticed a discrepancy. In Spencer’s file, it said he had blue-gray eyes. However, the man before her had black eyes. She brushed off the subtle difference and concluded that it was an effect of her necromantic powers.

            “What happened?” Spencer questioned in a raspy voice.

Despite her pride in successfully bringing Spencer back from the dead, Althea looked nervously around the room and avoided eye contact as she spoke. Fear and anxiety mingled in her stomach at the anticipation of Spencer’s reaction to the news. “I brought you back…from the dead.”

A pregnant silence filled the room as Spencer contemplated Althea’s words.          

“Who are you?”

            “My name is Althea and I’m a…,” she trailed off. The word ‘necromancer’ stuck in her throat as memories of her mother’s berating attitude flooded her mind.

            “You’re a Necromancer?” Spencer said.

Althea nodded, hopeful that her pride wasn’t radiating off of her like an aura.

Spencer got up from the stretcher and stretched. Althea heard Spencer’s bones crack.

            “Here, I don’t know if these are your clothes, but anything would be better than not having clothes,” Althea spluttered. She handed him a pair of ripped jeans and a plain black tee. She had grabbed the bag of clothes from the unclaimed property. Once Spencer was completely dressed, he turned to Althea.

In a flurry, Spencer pinned Althea to the ground and held the scalpel to her face. She didn’t know how or when he got his hands on the scalpel.

A sinister smile crept over his face. “Thanks for this second chance at life,” he said in a dark voice. The pride Althea felt melted away and was replaced with fear and shame. Blood drained from Althea’s face as Spencer pressed the weapon harder on her neck. As Althea reflected on how her arrogance placed her in the situation, she mentally kicked herself realizing that every negative thing her mother said about her necromantic powers was true.

Spencer leaned down and whispered into Althea’s ear. “The name is Requiem.” The pressure of the scalpel against her neck vanished. Althea opened her eyes not aware that she had even closed them. She looked up as Requiem stood up and left the room with his last words. “We will meet again.”

Althea stayed in her position on the cold floor and wiped the tears that sprouted from her eyes from the scary situation and regret of resurrecting Spencer—no, Requiem.