To Die For (boyboy)

Rule 1: One Hour

“We look like fucking idiots,” Sebastian hissed.

The night air was whipping all around them in some sort of vicious looking vortex. He guessed it was appropriate for the occasion, creepy weather for doing some creepy shit. Truthfully he just wanted to go home. He may have hated his shitty one bed room apartment on the lower east side, but what could he say; at least he owned the shit hole. But no, Nia had dragged him out into the night to do God knows what. Even his long black tweed coat and knit hat couldn’t keep him warm.

“Oh would you shut up you pussy,” she hissed back. The night was silent and for some reason this translated in Sebastian’s mind to be silent. Nevertheless, nobody could deny the creepiness in this situation. Here they were, in the dead of night, in a cemetery, planning to raise the dead. God this was ridiculous.

He was twenty-two, why hadn’t he gone to college like his parents had told him to. God he was so stupid. Moving to New York at eighteen, he’d thought he’d write the next great American novel. However, once he had gotten to the big apple he had caught a serious case of writers block. Nia had a theory that when he got here all his talent had been absorbed into the city; but Nia had always been full of shit even if she was his best friend.

“Pussy, really that’s the route you wanna go?” Sebastian smirked. It was a well known fact between them, and half the state of New York, that he preferred the company of men. Nia rolled her eyes as she looked amongst the graves of the dead. Despite being what he was, the dead had always scared him. Many of his kind found comfort in cemeteries, or even places like concentration camps were many people had died. He hated death, and anything associated with it.

However, here he was in a grave yard, with a human, doing her a favor. He had met Nia two years ago when he had first come to New York. She was two years older than him and she was a rookie patrol woman. He had just come into his powers and had a hard time controlling them.

Being a Necromancer, he was able to resurrect and talk to the dead. Once summoned, he would be able to control them, but only for one hour.

When he had gotten off the Greyhound to New York, he had five hundred dollars, some clothes and his laptop. Upon reaching the city he had but to leave the police station before his back pack was taken off his shoulder forcefully and he was pushed to the ground. The man was too fast for the lanky eighteen year old boy. That’s when he heard footsteps running after him. Patrol woman Nia Vasquez sprinted after the perp and attempted to catch him. When he pulled out a gun, she was forced to return fire. After two bullets, aimed at the chest, he went down like a sack of potatoes.

Unable to control his powers, every dead person Sebastian came in contact to, was instantly raised. Much to Nia’s surprise as the man she just killed rose up only to stand again. With a single word, “die”, the man had fallen again, but the damage was already done.

However, Nia had taken it surprisingly well. After she had finished throwing up she hadn’t called the press or the cops or anything. She didn’t ask how or why she just accepted the fact that Sebastian could do what he did. A week later she had tracked Sebastian down at his rundown apartment and told him she wanted to be moved to homicide and asked for his help. With his talent, she would be able to ask the victim who murdered them.

She had explained that she wouldn’t need him for every case. The drunken husband or the greedy maid cases were easy to solve. However, there were cases that chilled her to the bone, and for that she would call on him.  Necromancers could only be killed when their bodies were burned. Therefore, he had really faced no real risk the day he got off the bus, but for some reason he felt as though he owed her. So anytime she called on him, he would go; these were times like tonight.