Necro

Black Worm Hole
Two roads, covered by parched crumpled leaves of forgotten memories, laden with snows of age, and rocks of past hardships, converged into one road in a wood of lost lives and forgotten souls, deep in the space of the universe. The father’s road ended almost as soon as the roads became one. The old mother’s path ended soon after, but not before, in between the edges of the two paths, shooting off from the mother’s edge, a small line went on its own. At first, it was just a small line of faint light, but as it went into the deep forgetfulness of the snow-filled woods of space, it grew in size and brightness, until it became as bright a star as its parents. Then in the winter of deep and lonely space, the new path became old and forgotten, having gone miles upon miles before it started to sleep. However, when a star sleeps it becomes a black hole, sucking everything near into its void, becoming invisible and forgotten. The path has become a crack, which all things forgotten and unwanted slipped through. On the other side of that hole, is another void, where bits and pieces of things lost in God’s sea of forgetfulness may come. Entering into this abyss is like journeying through a wormhole. From the hole, the unwanted and unloved may emerge to become bright as stars. Stars of things form together to create constellations of thought, constellations form together to create galaxies of stories, and galaxies create firmaments of fantastic adventure…
NECRO
Once upon a nightmare a little girl was born in the wrong place in the wrong time. To be a bastard spawned of two peoples who hated each other with genocidal passion would be impossible, especially for a little girl born without a hymen. When she reached Lolita’s age, she became a target for all the local Humberts. When the locals found the little one was not a “virgin”, rape was only the beginning. She was tortured, her genitals mutilated, and then those made in the image of God left her for dead.
Infection sat in. She became aware of a presence near her, and turning her mind’s eye this way and that, she saw death. He was not the cold shadowy figure that everyone feared. As death came to her and embraced her, wrapping its tentacles around her heart and breathing its blackness into her soul, she felt never known to exist. She felt…warmth, comfort, and security. He was so different from those men. He was gentle, tender, and she gave herself to him. Could he really be one who would do what no one had done for her before? Would he adopt her, love her, and take care of her? She began to think of things other girls dream about at that age, of weddings and love. Could death really be the one?
Death never gave her an answer. Just before her new groom could heal the pain, his tentacles began to uncoil from her heart, withdrawing its warm icy breath from her cheek. For the first time her heart had been broken as she felt herself being torn away from the love of death’s embrace. No matter how depressed she became she could not die. Hatred she had never known before sprang up within her. Not in all the days of life and torture had she known such rage for she did feel a bit of death in her. It was not her death. It seemed that death would embed itself within her, so that she might keep a part of him with her.
It did not happen. With a last jab of its tentacles, death shot into her belly button, engulfing and devouring the small thing that one or many of her tormentors implanted in her. She felt conflicted, hating it because death chose it rather than her, being glad that these were gone, but also a sense of maternal guilt for not caring or feeling a loss.
She would never fully remember these things, as she would never remember people who did not know who she was finding her. Not knowing that she was a half-breed, and assuming that she was one of them, they took her to a hospital. Long she lingered on the edge, wanting so badly to cross it, but held back by some invisible chain dragging her back from the edge. When she at last awoke healed and stable she was too depressed and bitter to be grateful.
Like an aimless, restless specter, the young one roamed here and there like a mindless zombie. She began to haunt places of death. Graveyards, morgues, crime scenes, being around death were her only sanctuary. Death was the only thing that kept her going. Stories of a ghost that did not obey the rules traveled in ghost hunting circles. Unlike ghost lore, this phantom appeared in all places, not just one. This ghost was seen anywhere near death. Most speculated that it was an angel of death, but why would an angel manifest so often? Was there something new in God’s plan? Could the world be ending? One small and ignored rumor speculated that it was really a person who had become Psycho-Necrotic. This person had a completely necrophilous personality, deriving only pleasure from death. Life’s only meaning was to be around death.
One place visited that ghost hunters overlooked, probably because it was too controversial to think about, was an abortion clinic. She did not know why but sneaking into look at the remains of what would have been babies upset her. It upset her to see people judging those who chose to get rid of their fetal parasites. At the same time, to see the remains of these parasites stirred something within her. Despite these feelings, she drifted to clinics as much as any other place. At one of the back alley, illegal abortion clinics, the young teen noticed a little girl trying to sneak into the clinic. No breasts could be seen budding out, which meant the little girl was either prepubescent or at the latest preteen. What was sure is that she was visibly pregnant. A memory came to her, overheard at one of the medical places of death she haunted, where it was said girls were known to have conceived as early as ten have, and menstruated as early as eight menstruate, so she did not even try to guess the age, but her body was old enough to get pregnant. She watched as the little girl snuck into the underground abortion clinic. However, moments after she had snuck in, cops drove up to the door, barged in, and came out with a doctor, and a screaming, crying little girl.
She had mastered the tactic of staying close enough to observe and far away to stay unseen. She listed to the cops charging the man with illegal abortions. Two women came by, and one angrily slapped the little girl, while the other tried to hold her off. After a while, the angry one calmed down and hugged the little girl. Taking the little girl off to the sides, the now calmer woman said how she loved the little girl more than anything in the world, but that it was for her own good. They drove off with the little girl. For the first time since her trauma, she was curious about something alive.
Haunting places of the living, day after day, week after week the oldest teen in the world searched for the child. Then one day, she spotted one of the women shopping. Keeping a safe distance, following the woman to her house, she waited there for the rest of the day until dark came, and all lights from nearby houses and this one went out. Through her haunts, the haunter had learned a great deal about breaking and entering. She found a sneaky and quiet way into the house and no one was the wiser. One door in particular was locked, but not surprisingly, her favorite key was the skeleton. There, on a small bed, lay the pregnant little girl, who looked like she could burst at any second. The little girl was awake and looked at Necro in silent horror. This confused and intrigued Necro who came closer.
In a stuttering voice, the little girl timidly asked “Are you…the…..” a deep breath and “death angel Necro?” “Why would you think that?” She asked very curious now.
Talking real quickly as some do when in need of a distraction, the little girl began to explain. “Before my belly started to grow real big, and they my mom and aunt took me out of school, some kids were talking about a ghost that didn’t obey the rules ghosts do. I never believed it because I am too old to believe in ghosts. But when I saw you, I thought maybe you were Necro?”
For a moment, her death psychosis came back and she asked more interested in the ghost than the girl “What about this Necro?”
“Ghosts are supposed to haunt one spot, like where they died, or where something bad happened. This ghost haunts anywhere, and that is why people talk about her, because she is no ordinary ghost. They call her Necro because she haunts places of death, and Necro means something dead.” Without realizing it, she knew that it was her everyone was talking about, and took the name of Necro with honor.
“Why would the ghost come here?”
“Because I am going to…..to….” She turned her head and sobbed. “Why do you think this is what is going to happen?” Necro inquired, figuring out what the girl had meant. “I know I wasn’t supposed to, but I eavesdropped when my mom was talking to the doctor. He said that if I had the baby, we’d both die.” “Why doesn’t your mother let you get rid of the baby?” “I know my mother loves me, and I hear her and my aunt crying a lot, but they told me that if I got rid of it, and if they allowed me to get rid of it, then only the baby would go to heaven, and all three of us would go” she pointed down trembling. “If that is where you thought you would go, then why did you visit that doctor?” The little girl teared up and in one quick half choked breath answered, “I didn’t want to die. I thought if I got an abortion without permission, without them knowing, then God would not punish them. I know it isn’t the baby’s fault, and I don’t want to hurt it, but I just didn’t want to die!”
“Who is the father?”
She lost it after that. Burying her head in her pillow, the little girl began to sob uncontrollably. Necro watched as she cried herself to sleep. It was obvious the father was a pervert, like the men who had hurt her.
Necro felt something deep within her stir, and made a decision without knowing she had made it. Quickly and quietly, she walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. It did not matter that she forgot to lock the door. The mother and aunt had cried themselves to sleep long ago, and could not hear the little girl. Quietly going out of the house, Necro walked and even ran until she had gone miles away from the community. Finding the nearest abortion clinic (which was far away) Necro snuck in through the air vents.. Sneaking around Necro found all the necessary materials. She would not be able to make it in time though. She would have to wait for the next night. To kill time Necro did something that she did not do very often. She slept. Feelings that she could not explain pervaded her. Feelings about what was going to happen tonight soothed something buried deep within her forgotten past. A feeling of balance and justice filled a distant whisper from deep underneath the pools of her sanity. Could it even be that perhaps there was a sense of healing taking place deep within her broken heart?
She dreamed all that day of seeing something from above. It was like the helmet of Darth Vader, except that it had a slit on top of it. Churning within this crevice was the hottest whitest, hottest, most grotesque substance one could have envisioned. Necro felt herself lowering until she saw the figure underneath. Now she could see that the bubbling white fluid dripping down the helmet and all over this stranger, but as it did so, it turned red. What drew her attention more than anything was the face. Underneath all that blood stinking filth, she could see…them! Every one of the beasts that had harmed her. Her master, his friends, and everyone who had ever touched her. Every nasty face looking at her in the most perverted lecherous way. However, what the figure said next was the breaking point. This thing covered in blood and filth spoke “hello mother”. Necro jumped at the being but it caught her, pinning her to the ground. It smiled as it ripped off her clothes, slowly and deliberately, obviously enjoying watching mommy struggle as it began to toy with her. It did not get far, because in the next instant Necro, with new rage driven strength, pushed back her demon son’s arms, and pinned him to the aground.
Necro woke smashing and hitting the ground, screaming and shouting, not aware she was awake. She could still see the creature, and began to butcher it and do to it every brutal thing she could think of doing. At last, when the vision dissipated, and she realized she was awake, began to cry hysterically. She fell asleep once more, dreaming of the little girl being happy, alive, and slim. Necro was hatefully envious but then the girl changed into her. She saw herself happily going about living peacefully, doing normal things, with no bombs or cruel spiteful looks to make her feel like a freak. She saw herself going to school, making friends, and boys shunning her, which was just fine.
Necro woke at dusk with bittersweet feelings she could not describe. She got up and gathered all the necessary materials she would need for this night. Feeling tired but refreshed from a somewhat restful sleep, Necro traveled as fast as possible the many miles to the house. All the lights were out by the time she arrived at the house. Once more, she snuck into the house, opening the door. The little girl was sleeping, but Necro could not take the chance she would wake up and wake the women. Taking out the needle and filling it up with the anesthetic, Necro began to imitate the procedure she had seen countless times from the shadows and unseen corners of abortion clinics everywhere.
The little girl winced a little when the needle went in, but did not wake. Necro got to work spreading the little girls’ legs, taking off her pants and underwear, and began to organize the proper tools. For a moment Necro hesitated in jealous regret seen what was between the girl’s legs. Necro once had that, but it had been taken from her. Pushing past it, Necro began the procedure. Surprisingly the girl’s hymen had ruptured, but it was not gone. It was more like a puncture than a tear. Apparently, the perpetrator had not been very efficient except in the way that mattered. The little girl began to moan and move about. Necro did not want to take any chances, and did not know what else would happen, imagining this could only get worse. Stopping in the middle of the procedure, Necro gave the girl another injection.
Again, the little girl went silent, and she continued. She reached something and began to poke and prod. Something was moving which Necro correctly guessed to be the baby. Necro grabbed the first thing with her clamps and pulled. What happened after that surprised Necro. The fetus…struggled! At first, it was just a tug, but the more Necro tried to pull, the more the fetus struggled, as if it actually understood what was about to happen to it! The little girl began to stir again, and Necro, rather than let go of the baby, took another dose wither her free hand, and using her mouth and free hand took some more cc’s (though she did not know how many) and injected the girl again. With that, Necro took hold of the clamp with both hands and pulled.
Necro began to triumph in this tug of war. At first, a kicking leg became visible. Then a thigh of another leg caught in the birth canal. This made it difficult to pull but Necro did it. Eventually the other leg joined its struggling twin as it became free of the birth canal, and it revealed two arms trying grab onto something. Necro pulled it one last time to see the back of the head. Quickly the infant, with its now free leg, kicked desperately, and then the most curious thing happened. It kicked against the bed, and as it did, the force started pulling the head out. Just as Necro got the scissors, the baby pushed its head all the way out, falling against its knee, turning over and twisting its foot. It kicked at the source of its discomfort, trying to use its eyes for the first time. It kicked at the clamp repeatedly, and just as Necro raised the scissors, the child kicked itself free and rolled to the side as the scissors stabbed into the bed where its head had just been.
Necro gave a frustrated grunt, pulling the scissors out. Before she got ready to deliver the final jab, the newborn did something that caught her off guard completely. Before all this, Necro had moved past this baby’s awesome infant energy, strength, and will to resist, attributing it to mere oddity. However, what occurred next set Necro, who had seen and been through so much in her short life, aback. The baby got on all fours, and as she raised her scissors a second time, the child got on its feet, and ran!
Scissors hit the bed instead of head as the baby went over the bed’s edge, dangling by the cord. Necro grabbed the cord, pulled the scissors out of the bed, and dragged the baby back up. It tried to run but she pinned it and raised the scissors one last time. The newborn turned its head. Necro saw absolute terror in its eyes! In that moment, Necro became conflicted one more time. This thing was the rape-spawn that would kill its mother, the child of a pedophile. It was a demon, that must be how it could run and struggle like a full-grown man. IT HAD TO DIE!
Yet deep below her memory, guilt lingered. She felt guilty over her child’s loss. The child whose loss she did not regret, though she knew she should. The child that had done nothing wrong but could not be loved by her nonetheless. This child was a girl. She had never noticed until now, but now Necro saw that this child of evil was a girl. It was a girl just like her. It would not grow up to be a nasty little boy raping women and torturing little girls. Nevertheless, it was the child of an evil man, and her experience told her what the world thought of women. Perhaps she should kill the infant now, to spare itself a lifetime of pain. Yes, that was it! Kill the child to save it!
‘But what if she doesn’t need rescuing’ Necro thought to herself. The child was only a newborn, and already it was able to run and struggle for survival. It had never seen scissors before, and yet it knew to get out of the way. If it was like this as a baby, then how much stronger and smarter would this little girl be when she hit Necro’s age? Did this little girl have something that Necro did not? Did she have hope?
In that final thought and moment, Necro made her decision. She needed this freak to live. She needed it to live for her sake. She needed something she did not know about. She needed to believe that a female could do in this world what it never gave her the chance to do and was now incapable of doing. She needed to believe that a female could not only survive, but also live.
Laying down the scissors, picking up the terror-frozen infant, Necro walked over to the head of the bed and laid the child down in her mother’s arms. She held the infant down with less pressure, and as the infant caught its mother’s scent, it relaxed. Necro took her hand off it, and the exhausted child slept. Necro did not even bother to pick up anything, just leaving the tools where they lay. Nor did she bother to close the door, quietly sneaking out of the house.
So absorbed by all the excitement Necro had not realized, even with her sharpened nose for death, that the little new mother had not been breathing when she was finished with the child. Necro had only observed the procedure, and did not know what she was doing. She had done the best she could do, but the girl had too much anesthesia in her system. She had died peacefully in her sleep. If Necro had known this, she would not have felt any sense of failure. After all, both mother and child would have died anyway. At least she had saved one life. Not knowing only kept her from feeling the weight of deciding about the newborn.
Necro did not realize it yet, but something had changed in her. She would never again dream nightmares about demon children calling her mother. Never again, would she feel a desire to haunt an abortion clinic or a child’s grave. She left the two there, mother and child, in what would be the one night they would ever have to be close together. Something warm and wet that she had never before known shed from her eye, running down her cheek. She didn’t feel any more or less alive than before, but she did feel a small sense of…resolution?