Chapter 38

The cold wet snow pouring down in the winter night only seemed to exacerbate the fitful sleeping in the Ravenscroft household this night. The twins had woke twice crying and screaming and Aris had gotten up both times to reassure them that their nightmares were nothing but bad dreams.

He had promptly returned to sleep —his years of soldiering had given him the ability to sleep anywhere at any time— but Corrine’s constant fidgeting woke him on multiple occasions and what little sleep he did get wasn’t restful.

He was going to be tired tomorrow.

He had just returned to the land of dreams when a loud knocking woke him. It ceased moments later when a housemaid answered the door.

It had to be for him. Every late night knocking was always for him and it was never good.

Never.

Aris threw on a linen nightshirt over his naked chest and hiked up a pair of dark tan britches then made his way from his second story bedroom he shared with his beautiful wife to the small kitchen near the foyer where the maid had led the guest.

The sight of Zebulon, dripping with wet snow and ghostly pale surprised Aris. The coroner drank honeyed mead from a tankard that he held in a death grip with both hands. His whole body was the same shade as his white knuckles.

“Why did you come to me!?” Zebulon croaked. His voice broke as he said the words. “Why did you have to come to me of all people!? You could’ve chose anyone else!”

Aris took a seat across from the thin man and nodded to the maid who stood in the corner silently awaiting Aris’ command. Seconds later she delivered a similar, but smaller tankard of mead to Aris. “You may go now. You’ve done well. Get some rest,” he instructed the young blonde maid who's eyes were lined from lack of sleep.

“Thank you sir,” her voice was barely more than a whisper. She turned and left.

Zebulon, who’d been holding back in the young woman’s presence exploded in speech. “Why did you have to come to me General Ravenscroft? You had to know that you were being watched! But still you came to me! I knew that girl would bring nothing but trouble the moment I laid eyes on her pale body. Hells! Why didn’t I lie? I should’ve just lied and not even processed her. I knew there would be trouble the moment I saw her, but no, I had to go about things correctly. What a cursed time for me to grow a conscious! I never had a problem looking away before this…Why in the name of the Emperor did I pick now to regain my morals!?”

Aris leaned in. What’d Zebulon gotten himself into? What did the pale coroner know? What had he meant when he said he’d never had a problem looking away before?

Why hadn’t he looked into the man’s memories?

It’s because whenever we meet, he’s covered in viscera and pulling apart the bodies of the dead. You know it’s useful, but despite all the death you’ve seen, you still fear contact with one who cuts open the dead for a living. Aris realized.

“Take a deep breath,” Aris said, leaning in and placing a hand on Zebulon’s shoulder. “Now tell me what happened,” the coroner flinched but didn’t shrug off Aris’ hand.

The doctor’s words spilled out, but Aris wasn’t listening to them. He focused and found the memories of corruption that the pale man had hinted at. Within seconds, Aris’ mind was inundated with Zebulon’s memories.

Visions danced through Aris’ head as he sifted through Zebulon’s memories, trying to hone-in on the coroner’s recollections of his corruption. It took a few seconds but Aris quickly found what he was looking for and watched Zebulon’s mind eye.

Despite his practice under Wallace, seeing the memories so clearly was still disorienting to Aris.

Aris gave perfunctory nods and grunts to give the appearance he was listening while he watched the events that Zebulon’s words were dancing around play through the man’s memory.

Aris saw a hooded figure approach Zebulon in the darkness of his morgue. He was nearly as startled as the coroner had been when the mysterious figure seemed to materialize in front of him. Aris wasn’t sure, but he figured the memory had to be nearly ten years old judging from the reflection of Zebulon that he caught a brief glimpse of.

“We must talk,” a surprisingly young voice seeped out of the hooded figure. “I’ve got a proposition for you.”

“What?” Zebulon asked defensively.

What was this man doing here?

“We have need of you,” the man informed the coroner in a voice that told him there would be no dissent.

“What if I don’t want to help you?” Zebulon asked the Inquisitor.

Like a lightning flash, visions of torture and terror overwhelmed the coroner. Zebulon fell to his knees as the visions of agony crashed slammed into him like a horse galloping at full speed.

He was screaming so loud he was deafening himself and nobody would hear him down here. Nobody would come to save him.

“This is just a small taste of what would happen if you don’t help us,” the Inquisitor’s honey-sweet voice was more frightening than any hissed threat could ever have been. “Down here, the only ones that are listening are the corpses.”

The scene shifted in Aris’ mind. He couldn’t tell how much time had passed, but he watched as the day that Zebulon had dreaded since his first encounter happened. Another hooded figure, different from the first, but just as frightening, and with that same saccharine tone to his speech, appeared out of the darkness. He pulled a bloody and battered body behind him.

“I believe that you know what to do. You were given clear instructions for this day, yes?”

Zebulon gulped and nodded. His throat felt like a desert and he tried to hide the shaking in his knees.

“Good. So I can trust that you’ll take care of this?”

Zebulon nodded and rushed to grab the body from the Inquisitor. He lifted it to the large marble table that he dissected the bodies on. He silently went to work and grabbed a saw and began to dismember the broken body, all the while the Inquisitor loomed in the corner of the darkened room, his very a presence a threat of torture and death should he not follow through with his task.

Soon the body had been cut up into small pieces and the fear that Zebulon felt outweighed his moral disgust. It was ironic that he, a man who was surrounded by death and made a living cutting open corpses, was terrified of leaving the mortal coil at the hands of the man hidden in the shadows.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Zebulon hefted the pieces of the dead body and threw them in a pot of lye that he’d brought to a boil. It was a trick that he used to dispose the bodies of those no-one claimed. An ignominious and anonymous disposal of the disposable.

Hours later Zebulon took the clean stripped bones, burned them and crushed them to a fine powder.

“Good, good. I’m glad to see that you’re competent,” Zebulon could see the outline of a menacing smile from under the hood of the Inquisitor. “Remember this. We can make sure that you end up just like him.” the Inquisitor pointed at the small urn that contained the crushed bones of the deceased.

Zebulon’s already parched throat dried up further and he nodded in terror.

*****

Aris hid his grimace when he released Zebulon’s arm and casually leaned back in the chair, trying to catch where he’d lost track of the coroner’s story of what had happened the previous night.

“Zebulon. I want to help you, but I can only do that if you’re honest with me,” Aris dispensed with all subtleties. “I know that you’re not telling me everything. So until you do, I’m sorry but you’re on your own.”

Zebulon lurched back stunned.

“You think that I’d help someone like you for free? Yes you’ve helped me, but it’s only because I chose to turn a blind eye to your…indiscretions…that you haven’t been tossed into prison, or worse…” Aris let that last word hang in the air.

The coroner drew back, Aris could tell that he felt betrayed and even though he’d done the despicable, he couldn’t bring himself to hate the man. Still though, Aris held an air of quiet disapproval and let the silence assault the pale coroner. He knew in his gut that Zebulon’s guilt was eating him away from the inside and the man would break if the right amount of pressure was applied.

“I can always leave you to whoever it was that scared you…” Aris said after a minute of silence.

Zebulon cursed under his breath. “To Hell with you Aris! You don’t know what I’ve had to face!”

“You think I don’t know? Do you remember who you’re talking to?” Aris said with a mocking laugh. “I’ve dealt with men and monsters that would give those hooded figures nightmares!”

Zebulon’s eyebrows arched at the mention of the hooded figures and he cut off the angry retort that was brewing.

Aris’ bluff was working.

“Now; like I said. I would love to help you, but I cant do that if you aren’t willing to help me. Do you understand?” Aris’ voice dropped. “Or I can just make it known that you’ve been informing on them for me the whole time.”

“But I haven’t!” the coroner shouted, knocking his chair back as he stood up. He was terrified and outraged. “I’ve done nothing of the sort!”

“But they don’t know that. With your recent actions, it’d be easy enough for them to believe that you’ve had a change of heart and decided to work with the hero of the empire to bring down their corrupt circle.”

Zebulon cursed under his breath. He hated Aris in the moment. He hated the coldness he saw in the General’s eyes.

Aris hated himself for pushing Zebulon in such a despicable way too. He just prayed the coroner couldn’t see it.

This is the monster they all said he was. I believed him to be an honorable man, but he’s no better than them. He probably did laugh when his brother was executed. The coroner thought.

“Your problem Zebulon, is that in your core, you want to be a man of integrity. When you break the man who tries desperately to be regarded as virtuous, you can control them. When you get the man who signals piety to betray their convictions, they’ll do whatever it takes to keep their appearance of righteousness.”

Zebulon winced at the General’s words. Their acuity pierced the coroner. He was a man who made a living from cutting open the dead. He destroyed the work of the supernatural in the name of science. His profession assured his status as an outcast. He was one to be shunned. He had spent his life trying to appear light when he was bathed in darkness. His actions in the name of self-preservation had eaten away at that core. At first it was the threats of violence that had kept him at the beck and call of the mysterious Inquisitors, but along the way he had changed. His fear took a back seat to a desire to keep his secret from ever reaching the light. Having people know that he was exactly who they believed him to be frightened him more than anything else.

Zebulon sighed and sank back into his chair. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll tell you everything. Whatever you want to know.”

Aris nodded. He’d seen some of his memories of Cillia, but not enough. He needed to know more and he didn’t think Zebulon would let him touch him again.

No, this was better.

“Tell me about the young girl. The redhead,” Aris commanded the coroner.

He sighed and nodded his head. “She was brought in by one of yours. I thought it was strange, and I was gonna ask you about it. But the guard had a letter with your signature on it. He assured me that you’d approved of bringing the body. Saying that the young girl had been a victim of the thieves guild,” Zebulon explained. “It seemed odd, the head-wound looked as if it came from a metalvine and the thieves guild prefers the long dagger as its weapon of choice, but of course some enforcers use metalvines though, so I just wrote it off as the child being in the wrong place at the wrong time and overhearing information that she shouldn’t have. Information that was worth killing for.”

Aris listened intently.

“I had begun my initial observations when I was stunned to see the girl was breathing. It was shallow and labored, but the so-called corpse was breathing! The girl was alive! I knew then that I couldn’t let her die, so I did my best to bring her back to life. I was gonna bring her up to the main wing of the hospital, but something held me back. Something in the guard’s eyes had warned me. It was the same feeling that I got when I was forced to work with those hooded figures.”

Aris leaned in. He had hundreds of questions but he held his tongue. He knew if he interrupted now, the doctor would once again get caught up in the fear that had brought him to Aris’ door and he would never get the information he needed, so he maintained his silence and listened to Zebulon’s confession.

“I decided to keep her hidden; to nurse her back to health. I’ve worked on the bodies of the dead, but she was the first live patient that I’ve had. Stitching up her wound felt like I was stitching up my past. That I was atoning for what I’d done,” Zebulon spoke about his past with the Inquisitors in vagaries. Aris wanted to hate him for what he’d done, but he couldn’t think of anyone who would act differently given the coroner’s situation, “I kept her there all day, hiding her body from sight. Making sure to sneak food and water to see that she was well nourished. I would help restore a life to repay for all those whom I made disappear.”

Aris reached for the pitcher of ale and refilled the coroners cup and poured a little more into his.

“That’s nice,” Zebulon said as he gulped down the cool draft.

Aris smiled. “Here, have a little more,” he topped off the tankard.

The coroner muttered a “thanks” and sighed. The ale was doing its job of relaxing him and loosening his lips and Aris leaned in. Zebulon hadn’t noticed that the General had only taken small sips during their conversation.

“So, you were saying that you hid her body. Then what happened?” Aris said when he felt that Zebulon’s edge had worn off.

Zebulon gave a small nod. Aris wondered if the coroner even realized that he had that tell. Every-time he decided on something, he’d do that minuscule nod and then launch into whatever it was that he was going to say. “Yes, I hid her and I nursed her. I kept her hidden in the morgue for a week. Nobody would think to look for a live body amongst the corpses.”

Zebulon eased in. He was still dripping from the cold wet snow, but the ale and the fire had relaxed him. The story kept falling from his lips.

“I knew after that first week that she was gonna make it, so I one night when the moon had gone and the clouds covered the stars; I took her. I moved her from the morgue to my house. I was gonna make her healthy again. I was determined to right the wrongs I’ve done. I even wrote up formal paperwork for her before I thought better of it and started to redact it. I must’ve misplaced it though, because I was called to other business before I finish my editing,” Zebulon said. “I’m guessing that’s how you caught on to me.”

Aris nodded in affirmation and Zebulon sighed.

“Well, I’m not going to lie. I was frightened for my life when the paper disappeared. It wasn’t one of those hooded monsters that had brought the girl in, but I just KNEW that the man who had brought her in was somehow tied to them,” Zebulon informed him. “I don’t know how I knew, but I just knew that the girl would bring trouble. And she did…” the coroner’s voice trailed off, it was filled with a sense of dread.

“What happened?” Aris asked calmly.

Zebulon shook his head. “No,” he whispered. His skin had paled again and a cold sweat covered his features. “No. No. No,” he shook his head.

What was happening? What had been done to Zebulon?

Aris knew he wasn’t going to get anymore information from the frightened man, so he reached to grasp Zebulon by the shoulder with pretenses of comfort in an attempt to read his memories.

When the coroner saw Aris’ hand coming towards him, he jumped out of his seat in a panic. His face had warped. It was bestial in its reaction to whatever memory plagued him.

Zebulon ran away with a speed the General didn’t know he was capable of.

“Emperor’s rot!” Aris cursed.