Tarous, стр. 5

that were made from freshly dead bodies. They didn’t last long because of the method used to raise them, but they could be raised quickly and easily.

The teacher, Ms. Olga, was a rather stout and muscular woman. If the zombie apocalypse ever starts I want her on my team. She was easily over six feet tall, her biceps were bigger than mine. I flexed my bicep, but it was difficult to find. Less of a gun show more of a water pistol exhibit.

Finally class ended and I stood up to go to the next one. Our homework was to write a two page paper on ghouls and how they differ from zombies. With my level of knowledge assignments like these were a joke.

I guided a still sobbing Bob out of the classroom.

“Thank you so much Tarous for all you’ve done for me. I love you so much,” he said between sobs as we exited class. He hugged me for a rather long time as he sobbed into my chest. I briefly wondered about our reputation amongst the other students.

I patted him on the back as he hugged me. “I don’t need your cheap love, Bob,” I replied as I stepped back from our hug and turned to walk out of class with Bob close on my heels.

The last class was demonology. It was a rather scary class even to me. We walked into the room and everywhere we looked there were tiny demons in glass jars. Several tried to get our attention. The tiny demons were trying to make deals with us. For the low low price of our soul we could have anything we ever wanted or something along those lines.

Demons didn’t seem to bother Bob, I wondered if I should encourage him to become a demonologist instead of a necromancer. Demonologists were in high demand, mostly because they kept disappearing in strange and at times frightening ways. I decided to keep a lookout for a safer profession for Bob besides demonologist.

In all our other classes we had the same students every time, but I noticed we had a student I hadn’t seen before. She was a tall dark haired bombshell. Black dress, black lipstick, and she even had a pointed black hat. Since she hadn’t been in any of our other necromancer classes I assumed she must be studying to become a demonologist. If there was a field less popular than necromancy, it was demonology.

If you went to a fire elementalist or lighting elementalist class right now it would be packed. Even the beast tamers that had to shovel animal poo had more students than any of the necromancer or demonologist classes. Not only because few were born with the power, but also because nobody wanted to work with dead bodies.

While all of the demons on this side of the room were jumping around and yelling, all of the demons around the new student were pressed against the farthest side of their jars away from her. Though this was rather worrisome, at least it was quieter around her. Bob and I decided to sit beside the new student. Bob was on my left and the beautiful new student was on my right. The rest of our classmates were busy trying to ignore the demons shouting at them.

On a nearby shelf, a couple of feet from Bob, there was a zombie head. Its mouth had been sewn shut, but its eyes darted back and forth. The moment Bob sat down, the zombie opened its eyes and stared at Bob. I didn’t notice the zombie head until it started making moaning sounds. Bob started to whimper and leaned as far away from it as he could.

The witch to the right of me leaned forward so she could look around me at Bob, some of her long black hair falling over her shoulder. Her eyes darted from the whimpering Bob to me and back. The zombie head started doing its best to growl at Bob, despite its lips being sewn shut. Bob finally couldn’t take it and ran from the room.

I shook my head and reminded myself to take good notes for Bob. The witch watched Bob as he fell over several chairs that he had knocked over and continued to crawl as fast as he could out of the classroom. When Bob was gone she turned towards me again, one eyebrow raised. I turned and looked her straight in the eyes.

“I have never met him in my entire life,” I told her with as much fake sincerity as I could manage. That was the first and last lie I would ever tell her. If I had known how my future would turn out from this casual meeting, I would have been right behind Bob.

Class actually went rather slowly. We didn’t summon any demons at all. We mainly studied the basics of demonology. I did learn one thing of importance that day. Her name was Nyxra.

Chapter 3

I spent the afternoon meditating in a nearby graveyard. It was relaxing. I cherished all the time I spent in graveyards. The dead never made me sad nor had the dead ever given me grief or judged me, only the living ever did that.

When it started getting dark I sent out an invitation to the grim reaper.

“Death is a release and love a promise,” I spoke the words like a solemn oath. Words that moved me, that spoke to my very soul. As such they contained a part of my soul when spoken, which was true magic.

A vague form began to take shape behind me. Familiar black robes floated in the air and made a light swishing sound as he moved closer. A hood covered his head and long sleeves covered his hands. The only thing that could be seen besides the robes was an old rusty scythe.

“Hello death, my old friend.” I used the same greeting I had used a hundred times.

I proceeded to tell the grim reaper