My Little Knight

It was the first real job Caroline had since the move. She had gotten a few odd jobs from the local temples to make sure some high society types didn't undead-ify themselves. The clients and motivations for her services varied, wildly. Some were loved ones of the deceased, asking that she made sure their final rest wouldn't be disturbed. Others were rivals of the recently departed that did not want a vengeful spectre exacting its rightful revenge. Either way, they wouldn't be returning; Caroline made sure of that. The routine was the same; pay the toll for passage onto the next life, activation of the will and closure of all contracts under their names. That was easy, the living always were. The difficulty was dealing with the dead. They never wanted to go. Then you had to do some errand for them. Usually making Caroline look like a loony, and constantly interacting with spirits gave her a headache. With this particular job, she could feel a migraine coming on.

The house lay forgotten in a long-abandoned town. Its shattered windows clouded by the night's frost. A sign clung to a rusted chain beside Caroline's head as she approached the door. It had been completely covered by moss and ivy. It was also dead like every inch of flora in town.

Caroline cautiously began to examine the sign. "Welcome to all," she calmly read as she scratched away at the decaying moss. At her touch the chain, sign and a layer of ivy came free from the wall. To her surprise the newly freed sign simply disintegrated when it hit the ground. A cloud of what she hoped was just dust enveloped her. Caroline sputtered and coughed as she removed a vial of holy water. She removed the stopper and doused herself in the holy liquid. The dust dissipated and the ivy near his feet slithered away. “I hope the Witch knows what she is doing,” she mumbled to herself as she put the vial back into her travel robes. Then Caroline took one deep breath and knocked on the rotted door.

Immediately a young boy opened the door with a smile. "Mom you’re ba-" the little boy faltered as disappointment killed the enthusiastic greeting. "I am afraid I’m not your mother but she asked me to visit," Caroline stated cheerfully. The boy's expression soured. "I also bring a letter and a gift from her," Caroline continued, ignoring the light tension forming in her head. She reached into one of his travel pouches beneath her robes and brought out a red envelope addressed to "Hiram, my little knight" along with a small package bound in red ribbons, then handed them to him. The boy's face beamed with childish joy. "Is your father home?" Caroline asked, trying to sound innocent. The boy's face returned once again to an expression Caroline thought could only be conjured by sucking a lemon. "I will get him," the boy begrudgingly replied as he stormed off in search of his father.

When Hiram returned he was now wearing the contents of the gift, a little knight's helmet. Caroline's heart froze in her chest. "Pape said he will be up in a second. He also said I am to keep an eye on you!" the boy said in his best menacing tone. "I would never try anything with a noble knight standing guard," Caroline stated regaining her composure. "Good," Hiram stated proudly, as he stood at attention.

When Hiram's father arrived Caroline's heart shattered. What was left of the man shambled up to the door. Missing sinew and tissue, replaced by dead vine and decaying moss. The ivy, strings and the corpse, their puppet. The rotting shambling mound looked at the boy. Caroline noted the tension in her head was now like a vice. Hiram looked like he was listening to some unheard voice. He reached out and grabbed the remnants of his father's hand. "What if she tries to hurt you? I can help!" the boy pleaded. The boy's face hardened in response to some unheard reprimand. Hiram stomped off back down the hallway.

The corpse turned to face Caroline. "Begone ferryman, you have no business here!" a legion of voices commanded. The pain was now drilling into Caroline's head, throbbing harder and harder with every word. "My rot runs too deep and is too old for you to fight. This land is dead. This land is mine," the voices gloated. Cold sweat trickled down Caroline's back. "You are right of course. I’m just here to make sure the agreement has been upheld, per the mother's wishes," she replied, grinding the words out through the pain. The corpse smiled. "Ah yes. The witch. She is dead then. Please come in and see how I have upheld the bargain. I insist," the voices said hypnotically. Caroline's vision began to dull, as did the pain. "I haven't hurt the boy. As you have seen. He is safe unless you decide to break the agreement," the voices stated, convinced they had upheld the lie.

Driven by an unseen force, Caroline’s hands shot up and grabbed what was left of the shambling mound’s neck. "MAY YOU NEVER FIND PEACE!" a female voice thundered from Caroline's body. Her head felt like it was being torn apart. "The boy's soul is forfeit then, ferryman!" the voices retorted. "Your illusion is gone, you shriveled weed! Give me my son!" the witch's spectre wailed as it leapt to the shambling corpse from Caroline's body. Immediately she could think clearly again, the rage and pain of Hiram's mother now gone from her. The corpse began to shake as spectral forms fought for control. Caroline ran past the otherworldly struggle and into the house. The dead roots everywhere made running treacherous but she had to finish her task while the creature was distracted.

Caroline followed the vines and roots to where they were thickest, to the basement. It was dark but for a pulsating purple glow. Caroline stalked toward the light's source, a beating heart pierced by a blade and enshrined in a mess of thick necrotic roots and vines. The blade pulsated, pouring energy into the heart which in turn pumped life into the rest of the shambling mound with rhythmic sickening wet throbs. “I have never had a ferryman before… yeeees… you will be a good host,” a discordant voice called. Caroline could no longer look at anything but the blade. She could no longer think of anything but the blade. She barely even realized she'd begun walking towards the blade.

Caroline summed up all her will and closed her eyes as she began to chant. In her mind’s eye she saw herself and the heart in darkness. As she continued to chant the heart’s pumping slowed rapidly. She smiled in relief, knowing she had disrupted the flow of necromantic energies from the blade, without which the heart quickly withered and died. Time finally collected the debt it was owed. The blade also began to grow dim. Without the monster's support the blade could no longer control the will of all the souls it had shackled. An image of a devilish smile flashed in Caroline's mind. It was quickly replaced by a brilliant light.

The souls had been freed. They wanted vengeance and they would have it. Caroline opened her eyes to see the blade begin to glow again, differently now, as the spectres of the dead flew into it. The cursed blade glowed brighter and brighter until it turned molten, setting fire to the roots and vines. The flames spread quickly along the dead, dry flora, turning the basement into a firestorm. Caroline took this as her cue to leave. Running back up and out the front door, she did her best to ignore the two still forms laying in the hallway. With the house collapsing as the fire climbed higher, she moved a safe distance away to watch as the flames burned away the horror it had sheltered.

She saw the spectres dancing within the inferno, the flames following their movements to ensure every last shred of filth was purged. Caroline just watched, enraptured, until her attention was caught by a familiar voice calling to her. "Ferryman, we need a ride to the other place. Ah… please. " Hiram’s ghost asked nervously, before looking back at his parents. They nodded approval. "They said to give you this as well," Hiram stated as he pointed to a singed small pouch on the ground. Caroline smiled. "This is more than enough. Thank you, Hiram, " She stated as she retrieved the payment.

"Before I begin; do you wish to pass any messages on to the living?" Caroline shouted to her spectral audience. The only reply was the distant sounds of fire and flame. As they continued to spread she began to chant. "I, Caroline, release you from this mortal coil and ferry the dead on to the next life, the toll has been paid for these souls, they pass on with my blessing and protection. Hiram!" With his name called, the boy faded away. Caroline then proceeded to instinctively call out names, and with each name called a spectre disappeared. It took her almost an hour to finish the ritual but when she opened her eyes again the ghosts were gone and the town would soon follow. The fire was consuming everything. She stood in the only unburned stretch of land as far as she could see. Exhausted, Caroline simply sat down and watched the town burn.