Mhmm. Walking back to the other side of the room, I plop myself back next to Laffer.

“Don’t say it,” Laffer sighs, “I don’t know what’s happening either,”

Good… Splendid.

Sheeny, having shot with New Guy with unknown intent, places my crossbow down on a table. Gently.

Hmm, I suddenly don’t feel all that angry anymore. Strange.

That is, until she freaking throws it at Wills having poured noxious powder on it.

What the hell?

Wills, having lashed the dead horse for the fiftieth time is knocked straight in the dome and proceeds to fall over the bar counter.

And like that, the psychiatrist, having encountered an even greater predator, retreats back to their den, reverting back to their alcoholic major as they tend to their newborn cubs.

Mmm, this is all a joke, right? I can’t help but not think of this as a mighty jest.

“Ahhh~ How wonderful~!” She skips over with childlike spright.

You may be thinking, ‘Isn’t she a child tho?’ but I say childlike because that wide smile doesn’t belong to children.

“Yeah, and you're the kind of guy to consider demons children, right? This is pretty serious then,”

Deaf to the highly disturbing scene playing out, we stay seated in silence, like good and proper theatre goers. Not that I’ve been to a theatre before…

“My cute little boy~,” Sheeny caresses the side of New Guy's cold corpse with a strange affection. The words that come out of her mouth refuse to contain any hint of innocent demeanor. Only sounding like the words of a staunch fanatic. Or a cultist…

And lookie here. I’m sitting in a cult… Big surprise. Okay, let’s keep watching.

“Mhmmhmm~” Kneeling down, she balms the body, spreads salt and incense, and gathers a peculiar essence…

Well, it would be peculiar to anyone but a heretic, but I could smell the scent of charnel. If I had to describe the scent, it was like vinegar mixed with baking soda, it was a strong stimuli… Don’t ask, it’s just something that happened when I practised the dark arts.

Now I’m like a godsdamned sniffer dog, perking my arse at any slight whiff. It can’t be helped that I suddenly paid particular focus on this point, such that I only now realise what she’s trying to do.

“Reanimination? And Enthrallment? This girl’s good!” Laffer gave his praises but warning bells were blaring for me.

SHE’S A NECROMANCER?! “We need to lock her up, STAT!” I rush to get up from my seat, but in my hurry Laffer manages to slip his foot over mine. I fall before I can even get up.

I earn myself a shake of the head from the man in question, “Jeff… Necromancy is a sub branch of the dark arts. And you may not believe it but… We’re dark artists,”

Ahhh shite. Screw me…

But! “I was ill informed of any branch that performs necromancy!” I retort, “Where did this fifth branch come from, huh?”

“Like us, she’s a deathoath,” Laffer sighs, which can only be described as comical, considering he simply shakes his head whilst bound in chain, “And what d’you think a deathoath does? We make oaths with the dead! Of course we do necromancy!”

“Then why do I know jack shite about it, huh?!”

“BECAUSE NECROMANCY IS HARD!”

“Moot point,” I state, pointing at Sheeny, “She just necromanced New Guy,”

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

He hardens up, at a complete loss for words.

Looking at the girl herself, Sheeny’s really feeling up New Guy. In a non decent manner may I add. Her actions have no semblance that would corroborate her exterior.

10/10 times would 100% arrest.

On New Guy’s part… Well, he’s alive? I guess? Nono, being undead doesn’t count, but I can say that he’s definitely conscious.

“Wha-What? Am I in Hell?”

I’m tempted to blurt out ‘YES’ but it doesn’t feel appropriate so I restrain myself.

“Ahhh~ So cyute~! Here, you like this~?”

It’s like someone’s pouring pure, unadulterated glucose down my throat. She speaks sweetly, but it’s forced!

No… It wouldn’t be so sweet if it’s forced… It’s just the sheer incongruity of the situation. This is strange. Very strange.

What’s also very sweet is that aromatic liquid she fed New Guy… Via mouth.

It takes every dime of my willpower to not cringe and look away. And I think I may be hallucinating, but I think there may be tiny spades in her violet pupils…

“You sick bastard, why are you watching this? Why don’t you just look away?”

When poised with this question, I can only answer with a, “I have no clue,”

Why am I watching this? What are we doing? Why are we still here?! It’s only in incredulous moments like these do I realise the futility and fickleness of existence.

“Just to suffer…” Laffer answers my mind queries with hollow eyes, “It’s always just to suffer,”

AHHHHHHHHGHH!

…

Tomakin Leswal could’ve sworn he just died. After all, the feeling of dying isn’t something that can easily faked. Everything pointed to his death. Was he in Hell?

No, his consciousness was still in the spot on where it last left off. Like a bookmarked chapter, everything was as he recalled moments before. Whether it be his ripped tendons or abraded flesh, to the crossbow bolt lodged in his chest.

Tomakin recognised that cheap, market sale brand. Looks like Jeffrey got a one up on him. Real piece of crap that guy was…

So why was he alive again? There’s no way that those heretical cads would necromance him. And from the information he compiled, the only one who could perform necromancy was Lacer. The rector.

So why did Lacer revive him? Ah, there was a very good reason. Those dumbasses definitely killed him on a whim as they would with any other civilian, then realised that they hadn’t extracted any information and motives from him. Thus, Tomakin hypothesised the most likely causation to his new lease on life.

Though to his complete surprise, the little Sheeny was the one to greet him.

The shy girl. The only one in this godsforsaken place without their hands dipped in blood. She was a good girl. If there was one regret Tomakin had it was not that he couldn't eliminate these homicidal hoodlums but that he couldn’t grant little Sheeny the bright future that she deserved. She was just 16… Yet she would never gain freedom from this place, not to mention the countless children to come…

And that girl…

“Ahhh~ So cyute~!” That squeal was unfamiliar. Yet it came from a familiar source. Before he could even get his bearings, he was set upon. Tomakin tried to resist but his body felt heavy, and especially numbed.

Sheeny… What did they do to her?

To turn her into a rabid animal like this… It was inane! She had lost all sanity. No child would willingly tie someone up in a turtle shell binding with a full smile and flushed cheeks.

They did something to her. And if Tomakin had to guess, it was 100% Jeffrey. That cur! Even now he was seated without a care in the world, watching this play with due intent.

“You bastard! Stop this right now!”

“I cannot,” With cold eyes, Jeffrey spoke, as if stating a fact. It felt patronising. Tomakin knew that Jeffrey likely wouldn’t hear him out but he wasn’t in a position to fight back so he might as well try.

“Ah ah ah~! It’s good to listen to what others have to say, rigghhht~?” That wide smile didn’t belong to her, but this crescent frown was even more uncanny, “Isn’t that what you always say?”

“What? True, however, you aren’t well right now,” Tomakin tried to reason. As a staunch believer in the effects of logos, this was the go to.

“Hmmm, well? Not well? NOT WELL? Funny~! You so funny~!” Was she mad, was she happy? It was hard to tell, “Well~, you still acting like that, hmm? I wonder what you’d think if you knew what caused all your plans to fail~,”

“What?” Dread made itself known. Tomakin couldn’t help but feel that this side to Sheeny was not something conjured up by the maniac murderers.

“IT WAS ME~! Eheh~. Who forced you here? Who stole your teddy bear? Who burned the orphanage!? ME!”

“Sh-Sheeny, you—you my… my teddy bear…!”

“Hmm? I burnt that little voodoo doll. It’s okay now,” She brushed his hair in a not so smooth manner, “Ah, I also disrupted your vigilantes from getting the whole picture from you as well~. Still made a mess of the old place… I like it better there. Then I had to go around killing a bunch of drudges. Urg, do you know how annoying that was! They were casting a big, BIG ritual you know?” Flinging her silver hair across his face, Sheeny continues, “Are you going to make it up to me~?”

She spoke in a slow, measured tone. Bringing her face just millimetres away from Tomakin’s, like she was about to bite him. Her countenance no different to that of a voracious beast.

And Tomakin…

Tomakin wanted to die. In this respect, he had come to the same point as the two spectators.

“Ahhh~ that face! I love to see it myost!"

Why was he still here?

"Don't forget, you, are, mine~. Eheh~!"