"Cemetery Blues"
May. 27th, 2022 12:47 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dochermes"Cemetery Blues"
11/22/2023
He couldn't feel the freezing rain. Ever since he had been brought back to life, Marcus Bailey was physically numb in every sense. A black man wrapped in a black overcoat, sitting in an unlit graveyard on a dark night, he felt as invisible as he wished he were. The tombstone he leaned back upon was so old that that the inscription had been eroded to mere indentations. Marcus wished the night would go on forever. He had nothing to look forward to, and dawn would just be a fresh set of problems without solutions. The Man was out in full force right now searching for him, and daylight would just make it inevitable that they would kill him again.
"I got them cemetery blues," he said out loud without knowing it, quoting an old song. "Fallen down so far there's no way back up. Gonna lay down with a stone at my head..."
Even in the cold drizzle under a night without stars or moon, Bailey was abruptly aware he had company. He jolted upright and stared around with a bit of panic. Clifton Cemetery was fifty miles north of Austin, between towns, with no houses nearby and a church that was dark and silent on this forsaken night. Yet someone had found him.
Standing almost within reach was a tall thin figure in a long coat with its collar raised. In the gloom, Marcus could not begin to make out the man's face. Just the motionless way he stood there had something deadly and ominous about it, though.
"I thought you might come to see your family here one last time," said the man.
"Jeremy? Jeremy Bane, sure I know that voice. Everyone said you were retired."
Stepping closer, dropping to one knee, Bane said, "I'm supposed to be retired. But even though I swear to leave the Midnight War alone, it won't let me go." He paused and added, "I was at your trial, Marcus."
"I saw you there. Thanks. But I have no beef with the trial. I did kill Teena and there was so much evidence. My lawyer objected to an all-white jury but hell, I didn't have a chance no matter what."
The Dire Wolf's voice was detached and almost emotionless. "Coming home early, catching your wife with a strange man. It's such an old story. They call it a crime of passion, some countries make excuses for it but not Texas and not for you."
"No. No, I can't defend myself. I felt if a person ever needed dyin', she did after all I sacrficed for her. Two jobs, raising her child by her earlier boyfriend, but still that's no excuse. Ah well. I remember you, Jeremy, from when I used to work for Dr Vitarius."
"The world's wisest Alchemist," Bane said. "You handled all the everyday chores so he was free for research. Vitarius was a good man. But your next boss, Matthusala.. He was just as knowledgeable about Alchemy but maybe a bit more down to Earth than Vitarius."
"Yeah, Matthusala was not what you'd call spiritual. He still liked women and he still liked luxury, no matter that he claimed to be a hundred years old. Funny old codger with that white beard split into two points. You know what happened to him, Jeremy?"
"Yes," came the voice from the darkness.
"They strap you to a gurney for the lethal injection," Bailey said. "Two IVs and a heart monitor and all that, as if they're being doctors. Maybe they don't wanna admit they're killing a man."
Bane's voice got a slight edge to it. "I asked later what happened to your body. I know your family is all gone, I wanted to make sure you at least had some dignity after death. They told me at the prison that you were claimed by a representative of the Keyser Funeral Home, a man with the right credentials and the right vehicle. But I realized suddenly he matched the description of Matthusala!"
On the road far beyond the edge of the cemetery, car headlights showed and then disappeared. Bailey caught only a brief glimpse of a narrow pale face watching him close at hand.
"Do we have to go into all this, Jeremy? Come on, man, I don't have much time left any way you look at it. What are you doing here?"
"Marcus, listen. I found the sanctum too late. Matthusala was dead and his disciple was weeping over the corpse. The disciple told me Matthusala revived you with a forbidden Velkandu serum. It's one of the most powerful formulas in Alchemy. It brought you back. You were dead, don't make any mistake about it, you weren't in a coma or suspended animation or anything. Matthusala resurrected you."
Still hunched over as the rain lessened to a few drops here and there, Marcus Bailey took a long time to respond. "I'm sorry about what happened to him, Jeremy, I really am."
"But you did it anyway," came the Dire Wolf's voice from the vague shape kneeling in the darkness. "The Velkandu serum filled your body with potent Alchemical energy. It gave you life again for maybe two or three days but it also made your skin toxic. Anyone you touch is poisoned."
"I know that," Bailey said.
"There was no reason to kill Matthusala." Bane's voice was getting cold and taut as he spoke. "He took a big risk to revive you. Maybe he thought you would appreciate another brief spell of life. He sure didn't deserve to have you choke him with your poisonous touch!"
"All right, that's enough." Bailey lurched awkwardly to his feet. His body was not responding as well as it had in true life and he was clumsy at best. "I think you better go now, old son. If I was to reach out and touch you..."
The Dire Wolf gave a faint sigh, barely audible even at close range. "So. I figured you would come here, where you family is buried and where you even have a plot reserved for yourself. You were singing about cemetery blues before. You won't be leaving here, Marcus."
Bane took a pencil flashlight from his jacket and played an intense white beam no thicker than a thread on the ground before him. In the unexpected backwash of that light, Bailey was revealed as a heavyset man swaying uncertainly, miserable and desperate.
"The disciple explained everything to me," the Dire Wolf continued. "He wanted revenge for his master, of course, and he knew how to administer the Velkandu serum."
"No... No, wait, you can't mean...."
"Yes," said Bane. He swung the thin beam from the flashlight onto the silent figure who had been standing motionless beside him all the time. The light showed the forked white beard and long hair of Matthusala for the instant before the resurrected Alchemist lunged forward. Bailey hardly had time to scream once.
6/20/2016
11/22/2023
He couldn't feel the freezing rain. Ever since he had been brought back to life, Marcus Bailey was physically numb in every sense. A black man wrapped in a black overcoat, sitting in an unlit graveyard on a dark night, he felt as invisible as he wished he were. The tombstone he leaned back upon was so old that that the inscription had been eroded to mere indentations. Marcus wished the night would go on forever. He had nothing to look forward to, and dawn would just be a fresh set of problems without solutions. The Man was out in full force right now searching for him, and daylight would just make it inevitable that they would kill him again.
"I got them cemetery blues," he said out loud without knowing it, quoting an old song. "Fallen down so far there's no way back up. Gonna lay down with a stone at my head..."
Even in the cold drizzle under a night without stars or moon, Bailey was abruptly aware he had company. He jolted upright and stared around with a bit of panic. Clifton Cemetery was fifty miles north of Austin, between towns, with no houses nearby and a church that was dark and silent on this forsaken night. Yet someone had found him.
Standing almost within reach was a tall thin figure in a long coat with its collar raised. In the gloom, Marcus could not begin to make out the man's face. Just the motionless way he stood there had something deadly and ominous about it, though.
"I thought you might come to see your family here one last time," said the man.
"Jeremy? Jeremy Bane, sure I know that voice. Everyone said you were retired."
Stepping closer, dropping to one knee, Bane said, "I'm supposed to be retired. But even though I swear to leave the Midnight War alone, it won't let me go." He paused and added, "I was at your trial, Marcus."
"I saw you there. Thanks. But I have no beef with the trial. I did kill Teena and there was so much evidence. My lawyer objected to an all-white jury but hell, I didn't have a chance no matter what."
The Dire Wolf's voice was detached and almost emotionless. "Coming home early, catching your wife with a strange man. It's such an old story. They call it a crime of passion, some countries make excuses for it but not Texas and not for you."
"No. No, I can't defend myself. I felt if a person ever needed dyin', she did after all I sacrficed for her. Two jobs, raising her child by her earlier boyfriend, but still that's no excuse. Ah well. I remember you, Jeremy, from when I used to work for Dr Vitarius."
"The world's wisest Alchemist," Bane said. "You handled all the everyday chores so he was free for research. Vitarius was a good man. But your next boss, Matthusala.. He was just as knowledgeable about Alchemy but maybe a bit more down to Earth than Vitarius."
"Yeah, Matthusala was not what you'd call spiritual. He still liked women and he still liked luxury, no matter that he claimed to be a hundred years old. Funny old codger with that white beard split into two points. You know what happened to him, Jeremy?"
"Yes," came the voice from the darkness.
"They strap you to a gurney for the lethal injection," Bailey said. "Two IVs and a heart monitor and all that, as if they're being doctors. Maybe they don't wanna admit they're killing a man."
Bane's voice got a slight edge to it. "I asked later what happened to your body. I know your family is all gone, I wanted to make sure you at least had some dignity after death. They told me at the prison that you were claimed by a representative of the Keyser Funeral Home, a man with the right credentials and the right vehicle. But I realized suddenly he matched the description of Matthusala!"
On the road far beyond the edge of the cemetery, car headlights showed and then disappeared. Bailey caught only a brief glimpse of a narrow pale face watching him close at hand.
"Do we have to go into all this, Jeremy? Come on, man, I don't have much time left any way you look at it. What are you doing here?"
"Marcus, listen. I found the sanctum too late. Matthusala was dead and his disciple was weeping over the corpse. The disciple told me Matthusala revived you with a forbidden Velkandu serum. It's one of the most powerful formulas in Alchemy. It brought you back. You were dead, don't make any mistake about it, you weren't in a coma or suspended animation or anything. Matthusala resurrected you."
Still hunched over as the rain lessened to a few drops here and there, Marcus Bailey took a long time to respond. "I'm sorry about what happened to him, Jeremy, I really am."
"But you did it anyway," came the Dire Wolf's voice from the vague shape kneeling in the darkness. "The Velkandu serum filled your body with potent Alchemical energy. It gave you life again for maybe two or three days but it also made your skin toxic. Anyone you touch is poisoned."
"I know that," Bailey said.
"There was no reason to kill Matthusala." Bane's voice was getting cold and taut as he spoke. "He took a big risk to revive you. Maybe he thought you would appreciate another brief spell of life. He sure didn't deserve to have you choke him with your poisonous touch!"
"All right, that's enough." Bailey lurched awkwardly to his feet. His body was not responding as well as it had in true life and he was clumsy at best. "I think you better go now, old son. If I was to reach out and touch you..."
The Dire Wolf gave a faint sigh, barely audible even at close range. "So. I figured you would come here, where you family is buried and where you even have a plot reserved for yourself. You were singing about cemetery blues before. You won't be leaving here, Marcus."
Bane took a pencil flashlight from his jacket and played an intense white beam no thicker than a thread on the ground before him. In the unexpected backwash of that light, Bailey was revealed as a heavyset man swaying uncertainly, miserable and desperate.
"The disciple explained everything to me," the Dire Wolf continued. "He wanted revenge for his master, of course, and he knew how to administer the Velkandu serum."
"No... No, wait, you can't mean...."
"Yes," said Bane. He swung the thin beam from the flashlight onto the silent figure who had been standing motionless beside him all the time. The light showed the forked white beard and long hair of Matthusala for the instant before the resurrected Alchemist lunged forward. Bailey hardly had time to scream once.
6/20/2016
