Eugene slowly walked between the rows of training soldiers. After the influx of new citizens, he had recruited a fresh crop, effectively doubling the guard count. A few of Eugene’s lieutenants were monitoring the fresh recruits but Eugene liked to have a hands-on approach to training. When time permitted.
Speaking of being hands-on, he stopped near a pair that was sparring and stepped inside their training circle, forcing them to halt. Eugene used his foot to adjust their stances. “Stand like this and thrust like this,” Eugene took the man’s spear and showed him how to thrust it with killing intent instead of what the man had been doing.
“But what if I hurt him?” the recruit asked.
Eugene snorted. “That is kind of the point of this lesson,” he spoke loud enough for all the recruits to hear him. “Your goal is to kill your partner, and for them to try and stop you. Don’t fret about hurting each other. We have healing potions on hand for any injuries. And if you die, you’ll have learned what not to do next time. We have a unique advantage in that if we die we can come back. Try not to squander it.”
Both men saluted and Eugene moved on, leaving the pair to get back to their practice. It wasn’t surprising that these new recruits were a bit hesitant. They were still learning about the advantages of being undead. And Eugene had learned that most had been white-collar workers prior to the collapse. Office workers. More used to sitting in cubicles than getting their hands dirty.
That fact didn’t bother Eugene. People had to make a living in whatever way they knew how. But the fact that all of them were from jobs like this seemed deliberate. Like they had been tossed aside by this new reality and left to fend for themselves.
It pissed him off because he could relate to being tossed aside.
Eugene didn’t grow up an orphan. And wasn’t like Norman, whose parents up and abandoned him. Nope, he had grown up in a wealthy household with every advantage he could imagine. That didn’t mean he wasn’t treated like an outcast by his own family.
The first son to an absentee father and a stepmother who would have preferred that he was dead so her precious little child, his younger brother, would inherit their father’s fortune. The funny thing is, Eugene never wanted anything his father had to offer. The man was an abusive bastard. And Eugene blamed his actions for directly leading to his mother’s death while she was in labor with his sister. When his sister didn’t survive the birth, something inside Eugene broke that day. He refused to speak to his father after that.
For years after, Eugene wished his father would die in some horrible accident. And if he had been left the inheritance, would have happily squandered it as quickly as possible just to flush his father's name and legacy down the shitter.
But he never got the chance to do that. The stepmother eventually convinced his father to disinherit him. After that, she kicked him out of the home and he was forced to survive on his own.
That had been fine by him. Eugene had practically raised himself after his mother’s passing. And he had the advantage of his strength, size, and anger to help make a place for himself in society. He worked odd jobs here and there, moving around from city to city.
When he was working as a bouncer, he went to break up a fight and nearly lost his life when one of the men pulled a knife. After being stabbed twelve times, Eugene managed to rip the knife from his attacker's hand and shove it through the guy's neck.
After recovering from his injuries, Eugene spent two years in prison for killing the same fucker that attacked him. Apparently, the man’s daddy had connections. Prison was where he met up with some bikers. They got along and after he got out, he joined their gang and ran drugs and weapons for them.
He figured since the justice system wasn’t going to work for him, that it could fuck right off. He wasn’t going to play by their rules either.
After another run-in with a competing gang, Eugene became the sole survivor of his little group. With nowhere else to turn, Eugene went to their drug contact, a man by the name of Sin.
Sin had agreed to keep him safe if he worked for him. Eugene had liked Sin back then, so it was easy to agree to. And that was where he stayed until Norman convinced him to change.
Eugene let the thoughts of his past fade as he focused on the present. There was one other thing that bothered him about these new arrivals. The complete lack of chosen among them. He had asked around and nobody could point out a single one. He suspected there to be at least a few hardened or former criminals among the undead, considering California had one of the largest prison populations prior to the collapse. But he hadn’t come across any so far. And it wasn’t like criminals were good at keeping a low profile. He would know, he was one.
If those weren’t signs that the mindless undead had been deliberately picked, Eugene didn’t know what was.
With that information, Eugene could paint a pretty decent picture of what was likely going on in Northern California. Non-chosen were probably treated as second-class citizens or slaves. He wouldn’t discount that possibility. And those seen as useless for this new reality were fodder, or not worth reviving. They likely had a way to control criminals and chosen as well. Eugene could think of a number of ways to motivate or keep criminals in line. Or they simply did away with them to remove the issue altogether.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
But this was all conjecture until they could get some wraiths out that way to gather more intel. At the moment Norman had them going through what he called ‘training missions’.
After finishing his inspection, he nodded toward the lieutenants and headed toward his office to do paperwork. He shuddered. God, he hated paperwork. It was the one thing in his new existence that he could do without.
After about half an hour, Eugene spotted a guest arriving through the wall out of the corner of his eye, thanks to the amulet Norman had given him. Eugene didn’t react to the wraith’s arrival, continuing to fill out the form he was working on. As the man settled in front of his desk, he saluted and became ‘visible’ to normal sight. Eugene glanced up from his sheet once it was complete.
“At ease, Smith,” Eugene spoke.
The man in front of him, John Smith, had one of the blandest names and faces Eugene had ever seen. He had been a perfect recruit for the Wraith Guard program.
“What do you have to report?”
“Sir,” the man replied, dropping his salute. “I have returned from that new human settlement that is under construction. There is a lot of grumbling about the big man being unfair, some infighting, and even talk of rebellion amongst a small group.”
Eugene snorted, “I would like to see them try. What else?”
“Not much, Sir. I doubt the rebellion talk will go anywhere any time soon. They are too busy just trying to survive and build something resembling a town…”
“You have something else to add?” Eugene asked.
“If I may, Sir.”
Eugene motioned for the man to continue.
“Why is Lord Norman even entertaining these fucking idiots?”
Eugene sighed. “The boss has a good heart. But he isn’t stupid. He knows these people will likely do something dumb eventually.”
“Then why not just get rid of them now?” John asked in confusion.
“Let me ask you this instead, Smith. Do you know how I met the Boss?”
The man hesitated for a moment before nodding his head. “Rumor has it that you tried to kill him?” It seemed the man wasn’t sure if the rumor was true or not.
“I did. I tried to kill him multiple times in fact.”
If a ghost could gulp audibly, John would have done so.
“The Boss eventually captured me and gave me a choice. I could work with him, or I could die.”
“I… I have a hard time picturing the man being that forward.”
Eugene smiled at the comment. “He’s a surprising individual. But I realized something that day he gave me the ultimatum. I could continue along a path with a man I had lost all faith in. Or I could throw my hat into a ring where a guy who had bested me on multiple occasions was just getting started. The Boss is giving these people the same opportunity, some like the ones that stayed in Ashvale realized this right away. Others will realize it soon. Those that don’t… well, we all know what happens to them. Does that help clear things up?”
“It does, Sir. Thank you.”
Eugene nodded. “Anything else to report?”
“We aren’t sure just yet. But we think some spies have worked their way into that group. There are also a few other strange happenings going on that we are having difficulty pinning down.”
“Strange how?”
“A man, or multiple seems to be coming and going from the town. When we try to follow him, we always lose his trail. Shannon is keeping an eye on him now but we thought we should report this just in case.”
Eugene scratched at his beard. “I’m not surprised if there are spies. I assume they are other undead?”
Smith nodded.
“They move fast,” Eugene muttered. “Alright, keep your distance from these unknowns for now. We don’t want to tip our hand that we know about them yet. Before you go.” Eugene picked up a folder that was brimming with enchantments and handed it to the wraith.
The man took the top-secret document and undid the string that held it closed. Like with the one-way sound-canceling walls of his office, this document was their best way to ensure the privacy of highly sensitive information. If anyone other than Eugene or Norman picked up the document and handed it to someone, they would die and their soul would become trapped in the document.
Norman had come up with the spell after witnessing Vincent’s little trick to control the undead. The spell simply ejected one's soul from their body, instantly killing them. The act of handing the folder off, set a two-minute delay on the spell activation. If you didn’t open the document within that time, the spell would reset. A simple yet effective deterrent.
“My next orders, Sir?”
Eugene nodded. “While that other group of humans is a concern, it’s a minor one. You and Shannon will wrap up what you are doing there by the end of the week, then I want you off to California. For now, we just need you to gather information. But make sure you document the important players, in this.” Eugene opened up a locked drawer on his desk and set what looked like a clear piece of plastic about the size of a pocket notebook on the top.
Smith picked it up and examined it. “Um, what is it, Sir?”
“I have no fucking clue. Saliu crafted it. Apparently, their species use it to pass words of comfort to their bonded mates when they are separated. Just write on it, then once a day, fold it up. All of the words written will be transferred to a linked pair here.”
“Magical texting? Well, that will certainly come in handy. Is it instant?”
Eugene shook his head. “The item is a very weak magical artifact. So the transfer is slow. It can take up to six hours. Which is why we want you to only use it once per day.”
“Noted, Sir.” Eugene watched as the man made the plastic-like card phase out of reality so he could tuck it into his ghostly clothing.
That was a neat little trick they had discovered during their initial training. It was limited to about three pounds of material though. And most of that was taken up by their clothing. While wearing clothing wasn’t strictly necessary, most of the wraiths felt better when they had something on, even if the clothing was as see-through and amorphous as their bodies.
Smith gave one last salute before vanishing.
Eugene hadn’t exactly lied to the man. The item worked mostly like he said. Except, it didn’t transfer the words. The pages slowly swapped places over an extended period of time. But it was decided that the specifics of how the item really worked, should be need to know. Eugene thought it was a waste of effort, but he didn’t argue. The more information they could keep from their enemies, the better.