I Was a Teenage Necromancer

Chapter 13-Plan of Action

By now, the sky had lightened to grey, but the sun had yet to truly rise up and burn away the early morning mist that crawled and winded through the trees. Birds chirped, but the sound was dull to Scott as he lifelessly tromped through the forest, feet moving on their own, with no set destination. Occasionally, he stumbled into a tree, but paid it no mind. He had other things to think about.

He had no idea how long it had been since he ran away. All he had wanted to do was get out, get out and think, but even that was taken from him. For the last few hours, all he could see was the hurt in Amber's tearful eyes as she resolved to stay by him, help him however she could. And what had he done? How had he repaid her? By lashing out at her. By running away from his problems like a coward.

By breaking his promise.

He had run mindlessly in the dark; however, completely unknown to him, his feet had somehow carried him to the vast woods behind Amity Memorial Cemetery, deeper than he'd ever gone before.

"Heh." he barked humorlessly. "Of course. Back to where it all started." It seemed for all his desire to escape, it was a necromancer's fate to return to the graveyard. He could still remember the first night he'd snuck out, heart hammering and arms trembling with the strain of effort and both excitement and apprehension of what he was about to do; was it really possible to raise the dead? Academically, he knew the answer from previous trials on bugs and small rodents. But it was an entirely different matter when skulking about in the night, glancing for any sign of detection, digging in the hard earth for his unearthly prize. With the sigils drawn, the incantation recited, to see what had been dead move again...it was intoxicating. The feeling, the rush of defying the supreme natural order. All the possibilities now open to him. For Scott Havenbrook, the planets had aligned that night. The stars were right. Armed with the knowledge and might of the Elder Gods, it was his time to rise.

"And now look at me." he muttered, hot tears streaking down his face. The only one in the world with the knowledge and ability, and he found himself lost and helpless. The early morning chill helped ease the heat on his face, but could do nothing about the burning in his chest. He stumbled and fell face-first into the dirt. "Heh. Heh heh, heh heh heh." He chuckled mirthlessly. He considered just lying there. Just give up and stop moving until he died of thirst or exposure. Silent and unmoving, like a dead thing himself. "I wonder if this's what it's like for a corpse." he considered.

Yet, no matter how corpselike he might have been, his heart still beat, a constant tightness reminding him of his failure. No, more than that. His betrayal. He had promised never to use the chain, never force her to do anything. And when the first real problem came along and she'd ticked him off, what had he done? But no, that wasn't right either. He hadn't felt truly angry when she said she was coming with him; he was scared. Frightened out of his wits. And, deep within his heart, he knew exactly why. Scott groaned. He doubted the dead had such worries.

He reached out a hand, half dragging, half pulling himself up into a sitting position. There was a patch of grass with fewer trees around it, so Scott crawled over and sat down with his back against a tree. Evidently, this disturbed a feeding hawk, making it take flight. He looked over to see a dead crow, entrails on the ground, already gathering ants. The heart had been removed and half eaten. Scott shuddered.

"Seems like no matter how much I wanna, I can't get away." he said to himself, sighing. "Damn it." If only he could come up with a plan! This was ridiculous. He thumped his head against the tree, mulling over the last few hours. Amber, the coven, Stephanie, the daemons, the ritual, the crow, eating hearts. He didn't know how long he just sat there, ruminating on his problem. The hawk...the daemon...Amber's heart being eaten...