It was past midnight. Inside a large furniture store, in an abandoned mall, Andrzej sat with his arms crossed on a vintage sofa, patiently awaiting his next client. The building had been under ‘renovation’ for the past decade with no real plans for further construction. With its dreary look, it became the perfect place for rebellious teenagers and drug addicts to gather and do shady business. Little to the public’s knowledge, it also became a hot spot for sorcerers and witches alike to offer their services to selected few.
One would usually see an enchanted note find its way to them when they are in need to dabble in the forces of the supernatural. Someone who’s been wronged and wants to place a curse upon his enemy. A person suffering from a terminal illness, whose only chance at life was the use of a magic potion. A grieving widow in need of necromancy to bring her husband back. Fate had all brought them to this place in one way or another.
Approaching from the dusty entrance of the shop was a woman dressed in black. She was wearing high heels; her thin veil covered her features. In one hand, she wore a tote bag, while the other was occupied with a napkin, which occasionally slid under the veil to wipe her tears. The woman walked cautiously, and by her posture, it was evident that she wasn’t used to these types of shoes.
“Hello, you’re Mr. Grzeskowiak, I suppose?” The woman asked. Her voice was artificially high, seemingly because she wished to cover her unusual accent.
“Thank you for saying my name correctly,” Andrzej gestured for her to sit. “No need to introduce yourself. I’m listening.”
“Is it true you can bring people back from the dead?”
“I hear that a lot. It’s normal to have doubts, but since you came all this way, there must be at least a part of you that wants to believe magic is real. Here, take my hand,” he leaned closer. The moment the woman touched his fingers, she saw the entire premise filled with ghostly figures, walking around aimlessly. Understandably, she jerked back in shock, cursing silently as she released her hand. In the blink of an eye, all of the spirits vanished just as quickly as they appeared. “Now, do you believe me?”
“Certainly,” she nodded.
“Now that that’s out of the way, you can tell me what you came here for. Who is the person you want me to revive?”
“It’s my late husband, Howard. He was hit by a bus yesterday. His body is still preserved at the St. Hanna hospital.”
“I’ve never heard of it. Is it located in this city?”
“Ah, no, it’s in…” she paused as if she couldn’t fish the answer out of her head. ”Lakewood! Yes, Lakewood.”
“In what state is it?”
“Um, Colorado?”
“No. I meant the body. Is it damaged to the point I need to I need to graft limbs to it, or is it still salvageable?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said the woman, looking down as she wiped another one of her nonexistent tears. “My dear Howard. I dare not look at him, all bloody and mangled. And we were just about to settle into our new home and adopt two guinea pigs together. Stupid bus drivers!” At that moment, her real accent began to slip just as she raised her fist in the air, cursing. “Ahem. How much would it cost, the resurrection?”
“Ten thousand,” said Andrzej coldly, growing suspicious of his new client as her act became progressively more questionable.
“Oh, dear! I’m afraid I blew my last savings on this fancy new dress. Is there another way I can pay?” She asked, almost seductively, barely hiding the half smile forming on the edges of her lips.”
“It depends. It’s not a method I would recommend, but there is a way you can make it up to me in exchange for my services. Do you know what it is?”
“I have no idea, “she lied.
“I think you do. But first, show me your ID.”
“What for?”
“I don’t make these types of deals with girls that are underage.”
“Underage?” She fumed. “I’ll tell you who’s underage, pichko!” Dani threw her disguise to the ground, revealing her livid red face. “Do I still look like a fucking kid to you? Oh, jebem mu matter, these heels are fucking killing me. “She wasted no time, switching into a pair of sneakers, which she yanked out of the tote bag. “Ah, much better. So, you’re the dirty necromancer I’ve been hearing of, ey? I’m gonna have a lot of fun smashing your pretty face against the bare concrete.”
“Is this a joke?” The necromancer chuckled, unprepared for what was coming for him.
“You wish,” the huntress threw a jab at him to test his reflexes, and to her surprise, he managed to duck in time. “Not bad, dechko. I see you’re more than just your looks.”
She used her legs to swipe him off the ground, once again taking notice of the speed at which he got back up. He didn’t try to fight back at first. Dani could tell he was more amused by the situation than frightened. It was a mistake nearly all of her opponents made the first time they crossed paths with her. Her small size was often misleading when it came to her fighting skills. She liked to play with her prey before showing them a little vixen like her was capable of. Andrzej was smart not to take his chances with every opening, seeing that they were just a trap to close the distance so she could switch to grappling. Thought intelligence was one thing, the years of experience the huntress held above him finally brought him to submission. She was holding him in a gi choke with her knee pressed against his solar plexus, watching as his eyes rolled back in a couple of seconds.
He woke up strapped to a chair as the huntress, now dressed in her usual sporty outfit, stared him down with her hands in her pockets.
“Are you planning to kill me?” He asked, voice filled with apathy.
“No. Not quite. I was contacted by your past ‘clients’, who you’ve victimized. You know, those poor girls you made your depraved deals with? Yeah, they wanted payback for the trauma you’ve caused. I was instructed, and I quote, ‘to do to you what you did to them.”
Andrzej couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation he found himself in.
“Something funny about that, fuckface?” Dani raised her voice like an angry officer.
“Oh, nothing. It’s just that it doesn’t sound so bad, to be honest,” he smirked, holding his chin high.
“Really? Perhaps you’re still dizzy from the chokehold, “she began wrapping a strap around her right hand, going over the large jewelry on her rings. “Let me get some fresh air into that head of yours.” She hit him across the temple, leaving a nasty bruise that rattled his brains. “How about now? Feel better?”
“Hah, much better,” he continued, smiling through the pain. “That was a good one. You’re pretty strong for a middle schooler.”
Another punch followed, this time harder, giving him a matching bruise on his left temple. Dani expected him to taunt her. What she didn’t expect was the moan of satisfaction leaving his lips after that second hit. She drew back in both disgust and confusion.
“What kind of sick game are you playing?” She asked with disdain in her voice.
“You didn’t know? Your attempt at teaching me a lesson only serves to my amusement.”
Her answer was to pull a switchblade from her back pocket.
“We’ll see about that.”
She didn’t provide a warning before plunging the knife into his thigh, confident that it would shut him up. It usually worked in situations where her hostages had the bright idea to act cocky. Thought once again, much to her adverse surprise, the necromancer’s reaction showed no signs of regret. A faint whimper escaped his breath. He tilted his head back like he were having the time of his life.
“You’re grossing me out! What the fuck?! You cannot possibly be enjoying this. You’re faking it to make me stop.” The huntress grimaced, waving her bloody knife as if she were a distressed teacher lecturing a delinquent.
“Look down. Does it seem like I’m faking it?”
“You absolute degenerate,” she huffed, clenching her fists. This time she reached for her nine millimeter and switched magazines. There was no point in wasting her silver bullets on him.
“Have you changed your mind about killing me?”
“Not entirely,” she pulled the hammer, aiming the muzzle at his crotch. “How about now? Do you still find this fun, huh? Would you be screaming in ecstasy once I blew your jewels to pieces?” She added deviously. That action sure erased any last trace of smugness left on his face.
“You wouldn’t dare,” he scowled. There was no panic in his expression, however.
“Are you willing to bet?”
“How much did they pay you? I can double it.”
“She didn’t pay me anything. All I asked for was a bottle of Johnnie Walker.”
“Whiskey? You’re willing to maul someone you’ve never met for a bottle of alcohol?”
“Blue label.”
“Fine, make it two,” he groaned, growling tired of the situation. “Untie me now, so I can go home and get some sleep. I have exams tomorrow. I’ll buy you whatever overpriced whiskey you want.”
“No deal,” she said sternly.
“What else do you want? Money? A revival? So long as I don’t have to see your face anymore, I’ll give you whatever.”
“I’m not working for the mafia anymore, dechko. This isn’t about extortion.”
“So, you’re a gangster? Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me in the least. I see you have the proclivity to torment people without batting an eye. Are you after some sort of vigilante justice, or are you simply in the mood for being a bitch?”
“What I want,” Dani leaned closer, pressing the gun onto his cheek. “Is information. Tell me everything you know about Baba Yaga. I know you are one of her apprentices.”
“What are you talking about?” Andrzej furrowed his brows, confused. “You mean the Slavic folktale? You understand she is fictional, right?”
“Oh, you know she’s just as real as you and me. Now spill the beans. Where is she?”
“You must have a few screws loose. What are you going to ask me next? Where is the tooth fairy hiding?”
“How did she give you these powers?” She persisted.
“She didn’t give me any powers; I was born with them. May I suggest you take your pills next time you decide to interrogate someone?”
“Stop wasting my time, pichko!”
“You’re the one wasting mine.”
“Listen to me, you have no idea what-“
It was at that moment that Dani felt two cold hands wrap around her neck and lift her in the air before violently slamming her to the ground, leaving a cloud of dust in the process. The huntress didn’t lose hold of her weapon. She was seized by a coughing fit, lungs filling up with tiny particles as she desperately gasped for air. Upon lifting her throbbing head, she finally witnessed the thing that got her into that state. Under the pale moonlight stood what could only be described as a perversion of nature – dozens of limbs stitched together, all from different people and creatures to form a centipede like monster. It had no eyes, no mouth, no ears, nothing but a grotesque mess of a body.
“Now, you listen to me,” the necromancer said at last. During the time she took to get back to her senses, he had twisted his thumb and broken free from his restraints. “I don’t take kindly to being tied up and being subjugated to an insane woman’s rambling. You have five minutes to get lost before I send you to an asylum where you obviously belong.”
“That’s rich coming from a sadomasochist,” said Dani, struggling to get back on her feet. The fall had left the side of her face badly bruised, and she could feel the taste of iron on her torn lip. “Is that disgusting monster working for you?”
“Charlie here serves as a bodyguard. I made him from leftover body parts I had lying around. He comes in pretty handy in situations like this one.”
“Ew,” Dani looked away in repulsion. “I don’t even want to know what kind of which-craft you used to make…him?”
Andrzej’s face went dim. A flicker of rage danced through his charcoal-black eyes.
“First you threaten me, and now you have the audacity of calling me a witch?!” He raised his voice enough to make her flinch.
“Well, aren’t you? I thought all of you magic users got your powers from that old hag.”
“I don’t know what fantasy novel you’re getting your information from, but let me get this clear. Witches are whores stupid enough to sell their wombs to a demon, and sorcerers like me are descendants of a Demigod!” Regret washed over his expression once he realized he had said too much.
“What?” The huntress stepped back, stunned. “Erin hasn’t told me any of that. Wait, then what the fuck was that bastard that I killed?
***
“A fake sorcerer?” Michael raised an eyebrow as they walked down the desolate boulevard.
“Yes,” Andrzej confirmed. “This is the best name she could come up with. Speaks volumes about her level of intelligence, doesn’t it?”
“Shut up, you prick!” Dani scolded him. “As if you could come up with a better name for these fuckers.”
“How about ‘fictional’, seeing as you don’t have any proof yet that they even exist,” said Andrzej.
“I would have given you one of their heads as proof, but that little shit managed to escape at the last minute with one of his bullshit-voodoo-which-craft-fuckery.”
“What she’s trying to say is, “the necromancer turned his attention to Michael. “that she had woken up from her drunken slumber.”
The exorcist glanced at his partner as if they had more information on those supposed “fake sorcerers”. The jinn’s usual apathy remained unchanged, and by the looks of it, it wasn’t concerned by their conversation in the slightest. Towards their newfound company, it expressed nothing but annoyance, as if it were a mosquito that refused to leave.
“Anyways, I think we should work together. We’re after the same thing, right?” Dani continued, overconfident in her words. “Who do you think is behind all of these resurrections? It’s one of Baba Yaga’s apprentices, I’m sure of it. I mean, think about it. The culprit is someone who’s both a novice in their work, given the botched necromancies, and someone who is powerful enough to operate on a large scale. I know that it takes a toll on a sorcerer to use their mana. Ask Andrzej, one resurrection, and he’s out of commission the next day as if he’s got a muscle fever. Witches can’t raise people from the dead. What else is left?”
“As much as I hate to admit it, there is some validity to your theory,” said Andrzej, putting a hand under his chin, thinking.
“Would you mind sharing with us more details about these ‘fake sorcerers’, Daniella, “asked Michael politely. “Have you encountered one of them before?
“Well, yes! Of course, I have. Two, to be exact. The first one I met was while I was hired to kill a Leshy that’s been kidnapping children from a high school in Elbert. To blend in, I pretended to be one of the students and even befriended a kid there. His name was Codi. When I revealed to him that I was a hunter, he wanted to help, to which I, of course, said ‘no’ at first. Both he and his friend, Simon, persuaded me to let them in on the case.” She paused for a moment as if she were trying to suppress something, letting out a long exhale before continuing. Her expression shifted into a more serious one, underlining the mix of sadness and ire in her stare. “The two of them were bullied by a group of some shit-for-brains upperclassmen. I should have put two and two together. It was the bullies who began disappearing first, one by one. Codi was the one who noticed the pattern before I did. The other victims were teachers and parents who did nothing to stop the bullying. Turns out it was Simon who had conjured the Leshy to take care of the people who turned their school life into a living hell. He had made a pact with Baba Yaga in exchange for powers to exact his revenge. Codi insisted he could talk some sense into his friend, and I stupidly agreed, so we went to the punk’s hideout. Simon was too far gone, though. He ordered the Leshy to turn us into minced meat, and I did my best to stop him, but it wasn’t enough. I’ve seen many horrible things in my life, but I’ll never forget the sight of that young, kind-hearted child being torn in two right before my eyes.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss.” Michael expressed his condolences.
“It’s not like I’m his mom or anything.” The huntress waved it off as if she were completely unbothered, though the sadness in her eyes betrayed her thoughts. “Let’s not get stuck on details. The point is, I’m trying to find the old wench who makes contracts with vulnerable children and massacre her wrinkled ass the way I did with her apprentice. I do not pity child killers, even if they themselves are underage,” she added, cracking her knuckles with a spiteful grin.
“You said he conjured up a… what was it?”
“They’re called Leshy. Some monsters have their origin in curses. For example, when a person becomes cursed by a witch for their wrongdoing. Witches also often use their magic to summon creatures that serve as protectors of the forest, since they primarily use the woods as their shelters.”
“Do you think this undead plague could be a type of curse?”
“Perhaps, but as I said, curse users don’t have the ability to bring people back from the dead.”
“Unless it’s mixed with sorcery,” Andrzej mentioned. “But that’s almost impossible… I think. Magic society is very strict about its rules regarding any acquaintanceship between sorcerers and witches.”
“I believe fake sorcerers are something in between,” said Dani. “I’ve seen them with my own eyes. I’ve fought them before. If I’m right about this case having one of Baba Yaga’s apprentices behind it, then we should join forces.”
Michael was already convinced that would be the best route of action; the sooner they were done with this mess, the sooner he would get his Maria back, and the sooner he would cut ties with the despicable necromancer. He exchanged nods with the jinn, confirming his decision, but before he could say anything, he was promptly pulled to the side.
“Don’t even think about it, “Andrzej warned him, keeping his voice down. “That woman is a violent lunatic, and I can prove it to you.”
“I can hear you, you know,” the huntress huffed.
“Say, before killing off all of these undead, did they attack you or give any indication of wanting to kill you?” Andrzej asked her, already being sure of the answer. Given the information the barber provided them, he knew they had no reason to be hostile.
“No. Did they have to? I see a bunch of zombies, I kill ’em. What’s there to think about?”
“See, I told you she’s a lunatic.”
“You’re such a shithead, you know!” Dani lost her temper, as the necromancer had anticipated. She followed her words with the draw of her pistol to intimidate him, as she often did back in the old days when she worked as a henchman. “You’re only shooting yourself in the foot by refusing my help. I thought it would be useful to keep you around, considering how much you know about magic and stuff, but perhaps I should paint the grass with your useless brains instead.”
Andrzej called her bluff, refusing to dignify her act with a reaction. His servant, however, didn’t take kindly to the threat. Nami reached for her knife, closing the distance swiftly. Her blade was pointed an inch away from the huntress’ neck, waiting for the right moment to puncture her windpipe and shut her up for good.
“I won’t let you insult my master.”
“Oh, would you look at that. Zombie Girl has some guts,” Dani snickered. “I advise you to step down. He won’t be able to stitch you up after I’m done with you.”
Nami didn’t heed her warning and charged with the intent to kill. She couldn’t care less if she got reprimanded. Hate dripped out of every pore. Her movements were filled with malice, aiming at the vital organs with each swing. Dani, in turn, didn’t flinch for a second, carefully observing and avoiding her attacks. It took her less than a minute to memorize their pattern and figure out a counter. One precise front kick to the chin temporarily put a stop to the undead woman’s frenzy.
“Nami, stop this immediately!” Her master commanded her.
“I have a black belt in taekwondo as well as 12 other martial arts, just so you know, “the huntress said calmly. “I don’t need to use a weapon to take you down.”
Nami wiped the blood off her chin and kept fighting, ignoring her master’s order. She charged once again, thinking her supernatural strength was enough to flip the tides. What she didn’t take into consideration was the fact that her opponent wouldn’t have survived as a hunter for so long if she let her target land a hit so easily. This time, Dani used a roundhouse kick to take her down, making the poor thing weep in pain. But pain in her experience was something she gradually learned to ignore.
It took her some time to get back up and muster the courage to continue. She was yanked away by Andrzej, who feared that would be the end of her if she proceeded with the pointless rage-driven spectacle.
“Stand back. Who told you to fight on my behalf, głupiez? ”He spoke into her ear, fuming. “I’ll teach you later about what happens when you have the gall to disobey me.”
