It was noon the next day. Cross had come to his home, and now Mr. Harris was burning rubber through Craven Falls. He zoomed through a stop sign, oblivious to the horns of those behind him. His face was set in a heavy scowl, and it felt like it would be that way forever.

“What do you mean, turned into a monster and flew away!?” He grit his teeth. The conversation kept playing over and over in his head with no respite.

“Amber was always a very trustworthy girl, I can’t believe she didn’t tell you about the mission.”

“MOVE!” he shouted to the cars in front of him.

“Wh-Where s she now?”

“Unknown. Most likely somewhere in outer space. She was acing very strangely, according to Scott.”

“Scott…” Mr. Harris growled. His vision kept turning red. He thought that was just an expression.

“Where is he?” He’d left immediately after Cross had said he was being treated for injuries at their base. “He keeps turning my little girl into a monster! He’ll pay!” His tired skidded to a stop in front of the flattened Kruger Mall in record time, getting out without even turning it off, set on a collision course with his target.

He stomped through the demolished entrance straight to the elevator. The second story had been destroyed, but the elevator had a new button going down. As the ride drug on, his seething grew quieter, but no less intense. At last the doors dinged open, and he saw about thirty gun barrels pointed at his face.

“It’s okay boys, let him through.” An exhausted-looking Crenshaw said, waving the guards off. “Mr. Harris, come with me.” He flowed the man, frowning. “My name is Agent Crenshaw, with an agency I’m sure Cross has told you all about.”

“That’s right.” he spat, and Crenshaw nodded.

“It is fortunate you were already aware of the supernatural’s existence, otherwise this conversation would not be happening. I understand your plight, but this is a wholly unforeseen circumstance that we are doing everything in our power to rectify.”

“Where’s Scott?” Mr. Harris growled, focused on only one thing.

“In an examination room as we speak. He has said goodbye to his family for “camp,” so for the next three weeks he is free to work on these problems. Please do not reveal any information you learn here, or you will be terminated with extreme prejudice.” They got into another elevator and travelled even further underground. They rode in awkward silence until Mr. Harris voiced the question gnawing at him even through his fury. He knew it could mean the end of him, but he had to know.

“How…how could you, though? How could you rope two teenagers into this problem? How-How could you make my little girl go undercover like that?” he asked, eyes stinging. Staring straight ahead, Crenshaw was as hard and cold as a glacier.

“Because it was the best option at the time. We have no field agents that could pass as teenagers for the party, and they were already known to the locals. We need to get to the bottom of this, and quickly. She volunteered her services, and we decided she and the necromancer would be best to root a seller out.”

“The hell she was!” He grabbed Crenshaw. “Listen, she’s sixteen! She shouldn’t have been near any of this! She’s not a secret agent!”

“My point exactly, Mr. Harris. No one should be near any of this.” Crenshaw said, wrenching free. “Unfortunately, that is not the world we live in. It is only through our supreme efforts and sacrifices that we live to see another day. I cannot and will not divulge information, but rest assured, you are not the only one who has lost someone precious to the unusual.”

“You...nrgh.” Mr. Harris clenched his fists.

“If it is any small consolation, we have apprehended the individual responsible for slipping her the Taboo. He will be interrogated and incarcerated to the fullest extent we can bend the law to.”

The door opened and they stepped into a sterile white lab, a large tube humming in the corner. There was a door leading to another room, but it was sparsely furnished. Crenshaw approached the tube and pressed some buttons.

“He should be done about now.” The tube stopped, and with a clack an even paler than normal Scott climbed out, wearing only hospital scrubs. Ignoring them, he limped over to the computer on the desk, then grimaced.

“You. What happened to my daughter.” Mr. Harris said, looming over him.

“Oh, hi. Amber’s…Amber’s not exactly herself at the moment.” he said absently. Rage overflowed, and he grabbed the skinny necromancer and hauled him to his feet.

“You think this is a GAME? My DAUGHTER turned into a MONSTER and DISSAPEARED! You’re the one that knows about this, you’re the one who has to monkey with her life and her soul, you’re the one who turns people into monsters, so YOU’RE gonna FIX IT or you’ll PAY!” he roared.

“Sorry, can’t.” Scott said.

“You, you what? RRRRAAAAAHHHHHH!” He cocked his fist back. “DO IT! Bring her back OR ELSE!”

“Or else what?” he grinned sickly. Mr. Harris narrowed his eyes. “Or else you’ll punch me? Beat me? Kill me? Go ahead, if it’ll make you feel any better.” He chuckled darkly. “I’m afraid you’re too late to make any real difference.”

“The report?” Crenshaw asked dispassionately, letting the scene play out in front of him.

“Confirmed what I already knew, and the how. I’m sorry, Mr. Harris. I can’t bring Amber back this time. Go ahead, kill me. It’s not like it changes anything, really.”

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“The hell are you talking about?” he demanded, shaking the teen. Scott grinned weakly.

“I’m dying.”

“W-What?” Mr. Harris’s world went cold again. No, this was his only hope! “What do you mean?”

“I mean Dead. Finito. Caput. Dirt nap six feet under. Pushing daisies.” He coughed, wracking his body, and as he put his hand down Mr. Harris saw flecks of red. “It’s…it’s the necromancy, you see. It’s been happening for a while, I just didn’t notice until it got bad enough. Last night.”

“What’s wrong?” Mr. Harris said, lowering his fist. This child before him, not even sixteen, was definitely paler and thinner than he had seen last week. He’d been too enraged to notice before. His chest still throbbed with burning rage, but his head was cool enough now to recognize his best chance slipping away in front of him.

“The necrotic energy I channeled. Normally, it’s perfectly safe even for a living being to use, so long as you don’t come into direct contact with it. But I think I figured it out. Last year, I had to channel my soul into my own body in order to rip free from the prison and save not just your daughter’s, but my girlfriend’s life. I thought I was so clever, using my necromantic knowledge like that. Unfortunately, I didn’t know the long-term side effects of doing so. The soul cannot, should not be transferred into the physical, living body. They’re powered by opposing spiritual forces, and the necrotic subverts the life when mixed. My own knowledge and soul are poisoning me. Not so clever after all, huh?” He gave the man holding him a sickly grin. “According to my calculations, if I take it easy and use no necromancy or other magic, I’ve got a little less than three months. That? Is not happening. So…I don’t think I’ll last the month, if I’m lucky.”

There was silence. There was nothing to say.

“Very well. I commiserate, but rest assured your family will receive the money you have earned.” Crenshaw said coolly. “What will you do now? Will you still work with us with the time you have left, or will you take it for yourself?”

“But, but…what about my little girl?” Mr. Harris said, his hand, his entire frame dropping. “What about Amber?” His face suddenly lit up. “Wait, you can revive people, can’t you just revive yourself?”

“If only. I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that.” Scott sighed, shaking his head. “Though the barrier between life and death can be crossed easily enough if you know how, the caster acts as an anchor to pull the spirit back. It would be like trying to climb out of a thirty-foot hole with a ten-foot rope.” He hugged his sides, body shaking. “It’s-it’s weird, y’know? My body’s dying, I can feel-” he nearly collapsed into a coughing fit, and Crenshaw helped him up, handing him a towel. Mr. Harris watched in horror as it came away wet and red.

“Sorry,” Scott coughed. “I can feel it, there’s nothing to do. But as for Amber, I’m…I’m working on it. I…I love her, and I’m gonna do what I can to get her back. I can’t guarantee anything, it may be just spitting in the wind, but I’ll do what I can in the time I have left.” The words rung hollow to everyone, including himself. He slumped down. “I-I just don’t know what. Oh yeah, but what I can do is ask why you knew that her cells had been imprinted with the sigil of the uylata spider, and didn’t tell me?” he snapped at Crenshaw, tossing the medical reports at him angrily. Crenshaw stared at them stoically.

“You found those?”

“Yes! Why did you keep these from me?”

“We feared what would happen if it became a major issue. All your focus would be on this, instead of the Taboo. And, as it seemed like nothing was wrong with her, I had planned to inform you after the crisis was over.” he said honestly, then bowed his head. “My apologies, for what it’s worth. But I believed the worst case scenario was Miss Harris would die. And, as has already been established, that isn’t a problem for you. This has caught us all off guard.” Mr. Harris looked from Scott to Crenshaw, wavering between punching one and demanding answers from the other. A need to know what happened won out.

“So, back up. What’s an uhlyta…uyata...ultra…whatever spider? And why do you think she’s in outer space, of all places?” he asked.

“The Uylata Spider is a cosmic entity that spins webs of gravity, holding stars in alignment.” Scott said, paging through the Necronomicon. “‘With its eight million legs, it traverses the universe, weaving together causality. With its eight million eyes, it perceives all the ways Fate may go.’ Well, that’s the poetic version. It doesn’t actually hold together the stars, gravity is a natural phenomenon. But you know how the universe is constantly expanding, yeah?” Crenshaw nodded, but Mr. Harris looked a little lost. “The uylata spider is the one responsible for doing that, converting the forces of reality with the raw nothing outside of existence and weaving it into new space for the rest of the universe to exist in. To aid in this, and to help catch the creatures made out of the void that devour existence in gravity webs, are her acolytes. Beings that have been given a measure of the uylata spider’s own essence, to help her in the quest to bring form to nothingness.” He spun the tome around to show an illustration, an enormous spider with planet Earth for reference, only a twelfth the size of the arachnid. Mr. Harris rubbed his eyes; it appeared there were an uncountable number of legs, but there were clearly only eight. He broke out into goosebumps. A spider that big, running around space?

“And Amber’s with this spider creature? Why her?” he asked.

“The uylata spider chooses those who serve, marking them as her own. I don’t know her criteria, but they are transformed, and find no problem with their new calling.” Scott said bitterly. “But that’s what she’s doing now, presumably. Weaving the universe and crushing the creatures that wanna erase it. Honestly, even if we were to find her somehow, I don’t know what I could do to bring her back.” he said despondently, helplessly staring at the page.

“I see. This is a problem. You have my condolences, but I must be blunt. Can you still help with the Taboo issue?” Crenshaw said. The necromancer stared at the book, then glanced at him.

“What, me dying throw a wrench into your plans?” he said sarcastically.

“Yes, actually. You mock, and though you don’t think it I feel for you, I do. However, my mission is clear. I must save as many lives as possible. If I could yours as well, that would be best. You have all of our technicians and labs at your disposal. Would any medicine be of help?” he said stiffly, as smooth and emotionless as a robot. Scott sighed and rubbed his temples.

“No, I already tried. This’s a condition that makes the soul rot the body from the inside out, increasing exponentially over time. Nothing can be done.” The words hit him hard and left him empty. For all his genius, for all his dedication, for every time he managed to find an alternate solution, this was it. He was truly a dead man walking. And with him gone, there would be no one to bring anyone back.

“Um. I-I th-think I’d like to be alone, for a bit. I’ve got, uh, got some stuff to go over. Don’t, d-don’t worry, I’ll w-work on the drug stuff and t-try to get A-Amber back b-before I…Before…Before I k-k-kick it.” He tried to take deep, calming breaths, but the room was spinning. There was darkness on the edges of his vision, going blurry with water. “D-Don’t worry, I c-can d-deal w-with this, I g-got it, I…got it. I am a m-master nec…a master necro…”

“Calm down, son.” Mr. Harris sighed, putting an arm around his shoulders. He’d come ready to kill him for taking his daughter away, but just as much had been taken from the teen as well. “C’mon. I’ll drive you home.”

“Th-Thanks, but no thanks.” Scott said, sniffling. “I-I’m okay. I’ll be okay, but I do need to get to my lab. If I don’t have much time left, I need to use it to save Amber.” Mr. Harris nodded.

“Very well. We’ll contact you if anything new develops. Agent Cross will be checking in on you at three p.m. every day for a progress report. Dismissed, special agent.” Crenshaw nodded curtly and they left, the necromancer’s thinning, shuddering body leaning on Mr. Harris all the way out.