It was a minute before midnight. The only source of light in the large living room was a lit crimson candle. It was tilted at an angle that caused the melted wax to tip past the edge and trickle down onto Nami’s naked skin. She squirmed as the little drops burned her chest, gliding slowly to her collarbones until they once again turned to solid. There wasn’t a sliver of empathy on her master’s face when he watched her twist and turn anxiously, awaiting the next drop to leave a mark. She bit her lip to prevent herself from screaming, knowing there would be even more severe consequences if she disturbed the neighbors during this late hour. Her legs and arms were tied by a rope to the cold wooden table. It was a restraint she could easily break free from, were it not for her conviction that she deserved every last bit of her punishment.

Andrzej glanced at his watch before placing the candle to the side. He rested his elbows on the table, tilted his head, put his cheek in his palm, and took a deep sigh as if he was tired of life itself. Under the warm yellow light, the circles under his eyes looked even more prominent than during the day. Due to his work schedule, he rarely slept for more than two hours at a time.

“Do you know why I’m doing this?” he asked his servant, who by then was too relieved her torment was over to hear what he was saying. “I’m doing it to make sure you won’t repeat the same lapse. I’ve told you before, there is no room for mistakes in our practice. It is crucial to keep your mind sharp at all times. Acknowledge the pain. Remember it. Let it be a reminder for every time you act with carelessness.”

“Y-yes, master.”

He picked up the candle again, pouring the scorching, pooled-up wax on top of her sternum, causing her to snap the ropes and put her hands over her mouth to hold herself from producing a piercing shriek that would echo through the entire complex. Her face and palms were wet from tears. Her feet trembled.

“Let this serve as an example to what awaits you when you’re not acting with extra caution. Be glad the spirits you fought today lacked the knowledge to kill an undead. You know I can’t revive you a second time.”

“You’re not mad about me running the cathedral?”

“Of course I’m mad,” Andrzej glared at her the way a frustrated parent looks at their misbehaving child. “But I think that nasty cut you received on your neck has already made up for it. Let me take a look at it. Does it still hurt?”

“Yes,” she said through a stifled whimper.

Her master slowly and carefully removed her bandages, which were stuck together from the dried-up blood. He gently placed his palm over the wound, covering it completely.

“I’m going to put a healing spell over it to speed up the mending process. Hold still.”

“No, master,” she flinched, pulling away. “You mustn’t worry about me.”

“There is a lot of work waiting for us. I need you in one piece.”

“Yes, but-“

“Close your eyes, Nami, and don’t say a word. I don’t want any distractions to break the enchantment.”

Andrzej began whispering in the language of the old gods. His eyes beamed with a pale blue light as he recited the words precisely. By the time he was done, his head was throbbing with a splitting headache. Blood streamed down his nose, reaching his chin. He didn’t possess the talent for any magic different from necromancy. The small number of healing spells he knew, and a few others, took a tremendous toll on him, causing the tumor in his brain that produced mana to convulse and expand. By the time he was twelve, he had grown accustomed to that feeling.

“Are you alright, master?” Nami asked, her voice weak from concern.

“Stop worrying about me. I’m not a child,” Andrzej waved it off as he reached for some tissues. “Take a shower and go to bed. We’re leaving early tomorrow.”

“Yes, master.”

“One more thing before you go. There has been some tattle around campus about a strange woman dressed in black walking around. Do you know anything about that?”

“No, “she shook her head. “Not at all.”

“Nami, I know that woman is you. We’ve talked about this. You need to stop following me around. Not to my workplace. Not to my dates. Especially not to school. And why were you carrying your exorcist’s knife? I’ve heard some people saw you with it.”

“Just in case,” Nami muttered. She looked away in shame.

“It makes you look suspicious. I don’t want to be troubled by the police on top of everything. Next time I or anyone else, for that matter, catches you meandering about the school premises, I’m locking you up in this apartment until you reconsider disobeying me. Don’t you have any hobbies? What are you doing when I’m not around?”

“Wait for you to come back.”

“(Sigh) I know you don’t like talking about your past, but what did you do before you started working for me? I know for a fact that you went to college.”

“Not exactly. My parents never let me go to school. At times, I snuck out while they were either at work or attending a sermon. I went to the community college near our home and pretended to be a student there. I liked listening to the lectures about classic literature. This is where I met my first boyfriend – Kyle.”

“You mean the guy you stalked.”

“It was a short-lived affair.”

“You were never together. He tossed you over a bridge when you broke into his car.”

“Did he? Oh,” it was as if that fact hadn’t crossed her mind at all. She seemed disheartened. “My memories are hazy from that day.”

“It figures. Not many people remember the time they died. Do you know what else I learned? Our dear exorcist friend has a daughter. She’s a first year in the same university I go to. Coincidentally, I had the chance to teach her a few classes while the professor was away. She takes after her father when it comes to cognitive ability,” he had a smile on his face that didn’t reach his eyes. “You might learn a thing or two from her. She’s also very cute. I might consider making her my girlfriend.”

Nami didn’t say anything. The pallor on her face, combined with the small jerk reaction as she set her gaze on her master, spelled it all.

“I’m joking, of course,” he said as he stood up, walking over to her. He placed his palms over her shoulders and ordered her to look him in the eye. Not with his usual strict tone, but rather a note of warmth she hadn’t grown used to. “I made you a promise not long ago. Now I want you to promise something in return: once we resolve this mess with the evil spirits, I want you to go to a school of your choosing. Get a degree and find a job that suits you. Do you think you can do that?”

“But I like working for you, master.”

“You know you can’t be my servant forever. Next year I’m starting my residency, and I’m leaving necromancy behind for good. I won’t be needing you anymore,” Nami’s pupils filled with great sorrow. Another one of her feelings she tried to suppress. “It’s not like you didn’t know this already. Come on, cheer up. You did well enough this morning. I had to think of a way to reward you.”

Andrzej reached under the table, pulling out a wooden box, engraved in small intricate patterns at the top. The sides had a shiny metallic edge to them. Inside, laid upon a red velvet cushion, was a collection of knives of different shapes and sizes. Five in total. They were as sharp as a razor’s edge, possessing an enchanting glimmer to them under the faint candlelight.

The necromancer picked the one that stood in the middle and examined it to test its sharpness. It had a curve, resembling a karambit. The blade as well as the handle were made out of titanium alloys with hints of black brass.

“I’d like you to use one of these to cut me,” he said, after a brief consideration. His tone was even, as if he were suggesting a normal activity.

Nami stepped back, filled with unease and a dose of perplexity.

“I-I can’t.”

“Why? I have no trouble tormenting you. Now you have the chance to exact your retaliation,” he gestured to her to come closer and sit on his lap, to which she obliged hesitantly. Her heartbeat escalated, skipping for a second when he placed one of the curved knives in her quivering hand. He began undoing the buttons on his shirt, slowly, revealing dozens of tiny cuts spread throughout his chest and abdomen. He had a large scar reaching from the right side of his lower ribs to the middle of his left pectoral muscle. “What are you waiting for?”

“I have no desire to hurt you, master,” Nami’s voice hitched as she tried to keep her composure.

“I don’t have the same aversion to pain as other people. Come on now,” Andrzej moved her wrist, so the blade was pressing against the skin on his sternum. “Don’t be gentle. Slice me like you mean it.”

Nami moved her fingers, grazing his chest with the cold metal. It didn’t take much pressure to leave a mark. She saw tiny dots of blood forming once she became bolder with her movement. Her face quickly washed with regret, and she drew back only for her hand to be snatched and forced back, the tip pressing harder down to the hypodermis. Air escaped the necromancer’s lips along with a soft groan of satisfaction. He closed his eyes, slowly releasing his grip of her fingers.

“Drive it deeper,” he commanded. Nami gave in by instinct, twisting the blade involuntarily. Blood dripped down, staining his white shirt. He gritted his teeth, face flushed. He caressed her thigh as she slid the tip to his obleque. Her shift was hesitant, yet filled with yearning, making her breath grow heavy. She swayed her hips, feeling the heat forming under her. “Not now, Nami.” Her master stopped her. “Not until I can fulfill my promise.”

Their attention shifted to the loud hissing of a cat. It was a black, ruffled stray Andrzej rescued from a group of street hooligans, though by the time he got it to his apartment, the poor thing was already dead. Its small eye stared through the window, glistening like a sapphire under the moonlight; the other one was missing.

“What is it, Behemoth?” Andrzej sprang up, walking to his pet. The creature arched its back as if it were startled by an unnatural presence. Its teeth and claws were ready for attack.

There, ticking behind the glass with its crooked beak, stood a crow. Behind it flew another one, landing on the sill, and then another. Dark feathers scattered as they spread their tousled wings. One could see their bones sticking out if they observed more closely. They reeked of carrion.

“Fuck!” Andrzej slammed his fist against the frame to scare them away, swiftly drawing the curtains afterwards. Behemoth settled down, jumping into his master’s arms. “She’s watching. That old wench is watching.”

“Who?” Nami asked eagerly.

“Doesn’t matter now. Make sure every window in this place is shut. Every blind pulled, every curtain drawn, and if you catch a crow near you, shoot it.”