Salem,
2015

THIS WARLOCK WAS VERY annoying. He spent the entire walk to the back of the police station with his palm pressed firmly to my back, talking about random gossip that he had in his friend group. Apparently Evelyn was being moody and he didn't know why, Gene was being extra rude, and Leslie still wouldn't talk to him. The amount of care I had for this was a shocking zero. I could've cared less about what the hell was going on with all the supernatural. Besides, his whole personality was a large turnoff for me.

As someone who is very gloomy and pessimistic, seeing someone who's so seemingly energetic and bubbly makes me want to puke. Who would ever want to be that happy all the time? I'm sure he was sad at some points, but currently the only thing I could see was a guy who didn't know how to not smile. All it did was annoy the hell out of me.

I tuned him out, trying to focus on the area he was taking me to. The back entrance, yet again. I assumed the front was still mobbed but I hadn't looked on our way out. Once we made it to the door, his touch alleviated. I held back a sigh of relief as I turned to face him. "Thank you for your hospitality. I'll be heading to my hotel room to work on figuring out what's going on here. I hope to speak more in the future." That was a blatant lie, but I hope he couldn't tell.

The warlock smiled, nodding to me. "I feel the same. I'd recommend you avoid the main roads and take the side routes to stay clear of the mob. Don't want to get ran over, right?"

I'd been trampled before and it wasn't a picnic. I held back a shiver, instead masking my discomfort with a smile and a fake laugh. "Yes, thank you for the advice!"

And with those last words, we parted ways. Thank God, even though I didn't believe in him anymore. Once upon a time I was a devoted Puritan, but after the Lord failed to save me from being executed and all the other times I fell victim to a horrible demise, I simply stopped believing. Why try to believe in someone who clearly doesn't give a single damn about your safety and livelihood? Though, just because I don't believe doesn't mean I think others shouldn't, just do long as they don't get all preachy on me then we're chill.

I coughed as I rounded the station, reaching the front entrance. That mob was still there, but its numbers had certainly decreased. Acting quickly, I pushed through the crowd and onto the street, walking across the road to the other side. My hand drifted towards my pocket, my fingers absentmindedly brushing the edge of it, once I reached my room it would be time to examine it, but pulling it out now would alert every werewolf in the area.

It didn't have a distinct hint of magic, but I knew once I extracted it I would be able to see the very finite details of the necromancer. Once I was able to identify them, I would swiftly dispose of them and get out of this godforsaken town. There was no need for me to be here for an extended period of time.

Pedestrians walked around me, causing the mist to get muddled. It all mixed together to the point where it was difficult to identify the separate species. I knew I was surrounded on all sides but I didn't think it was this bad. My hand instinctively grabbed one of the lapels of my coat, pulling it tighter against my body. The glove felt like it was burning in my pocket. Fear of being spotted rested deep within the pit of my chest, but I pushed it away, doing my best to forge forward.

This world was my living hell, but I would do my best to get through it and head back to my normal life. I might have to uproot again but no matter what I just needed to move towards the end goal. Survival.

I stopped as I reached the hotel. I opened the door and began moving towards the stairs. "Welcome back, Sir!" That cheery werewolf. She was still behind the counter. I simply grunted in response before continuing up the stairs.

The rooms were nothing to blab about. Fairly simple and rudimentary, just how I liked it. There was a small counter area that had a little electric stove top with a mini fridge shoved inside a cabinet, and that was the kitchen. I suppose the bathroom sink would work for the kitchen as well. Speaking of, the bathroom featured a shower tub combo, with a toilet and a fairly small counter to place all the hygiene supplies on, but it worked for me. In the main room was a TV mounted on the wall opposite to the queen bed and there was a desk which would prove useful for me, I'm sure. There was only one window that featured a lovely view of trees, but I didn't really care much for it. I'd grown up surrounded by the woods and I died in the woods, I hold no love for them.

I sighed before locking my door behind me. There were a few options to hide my supplies in, currently they were residing in the safe but that wouldn't do. I looked around the room before noticing the hardwood floor. I bent down and ran my hand over it. My knuckles rapped against it until I found a spot that was a bit hollower than the others.

This was definitely illegal, but I could care less. I pulled out my knife and began cutting.

It was a special knife I had discovered back when I was in my fiftieth year. Rumors circulated amongst the supernatural of a knife capable of harming any and all of the occult while simply sliding off a human’s skin. It was called Mundi Dei, or God's Blade. The rumor was a powerful vampire had possession of it. Back then I was desperate and would do anything to have possession of something this powerful. And so, I began piecing together the identity of the vampire through all the rumors and landed on a young woman who was of aristocratic nature living in France.

I paid for the trip over and managed to get myself an invitation to one of her parties. While there I charmed her as best I could and she fell for me. Now, whether she saw me as a simple food source or as more than that, I don't know. She and I may or may not have laid together a few times, and then she finally told me about Mundi Dei. She did in fact have it, and after searching for a few weeks I managed to get it.

Of course this didn't sit well with her or any of the other supernatural in her home, so I was forced to fight my way out. How I managed to be the only survivor still amazes me to this day. Sadly, I had to kill her, but she would've died if she did actually love me anyhow. My curse didn't allow for them to survive or stay with me.

Vampires are still a sore subject for me, especially female ones because they always remind me of her. Guilt lays within my soul to this day but I hardly ever think about it in fear of losing my mind.

The hardwood plank slipped down slightly as I finished cutting it out. I carefully pulled it out, staring at the electrical wiring and ceiling that welcomed me. I could see the support beams and various objects that worked to modernize the hotel and keep it standing. I nodded to myself before going over to my suitcase.

I pulled out a box from the very bottom. I popped open the lid and then grabbed a small bag. I then pulled the glove out and put it inside the bag. I couldn't test it now because the spell placed on it would forbid me from seeing it, but I knew there was gunk on it because of the slight mist that trailed from it ever so slightly. I sealed it right before putting it inside the box and then putting that into the hole I dug. Then I grabbed a small satchel I had, reaching inside and grabbing a pinch of the fine powder within.

This powder was my finest invention. Grounded iron, silver, salt, garlic, a little sulfur, and a few other repellants made for the perfect supernatural resistant dust. The smell was horrific, but simply spraying a good amount of cologne would mask it. Of course that wasn't pleasant either, but I'd rather be known as the guy who sprays cologne everywhere than the guy who smells like death and pain.

I pressed down on the nozzle and watched as the spray filled the hole. Then I lowered the hardwood plank back down and then sprayed the room. The werewolves were gonna hate me, but I'd rather them not come sniffing around this room.

My nose burned slightly, but I ignored it as I sat at the desk. It was time to write some fake notes about the case. I couldn't have them thinking I wasn't working.

I pulled out a notebook and a pen before I began writing. My freehand was alright, but years of writing exclusively in cursive made that my go to. I began to write notes about some random theories. Junkies, cults, even just insanity.

This would take a little while, but I wouldn't be able to start examining the goo until night fell. I could not afford to let any of the werewolves smell it.

•••

MY HAND ACHED AS I set the pen down. I'd spent the better half of the day detailing theories that made sense to a human but weren't true. I added a few drawing of the body, placing some track marks and other random marks on them. However, it wasn't time to admire my notes. It was time to test this goo.

The goal was to find out any information about the necromancer. Most of the time one could glean information on the type of magic they used, gender, age, and sometimes coven. If I could find out which coven they belonged to, then that would mean I could investigate the members. Anyone who fit the rest of the categories would be an immediate suspect. I'd take them out, then leave.

I carefully pulled out a metallic box from my suitcase. In it was the device I used to extract magic. I set it on the counter, pulling out one of the glass vials. I carefully set it on a holder before grabbing some green powder from the box. I placed the main device on the counter. It resembled a Bunsen burner, but the powder and flame combination wouldn't burn the object, but rather it would cause the magic to escape and then I'd be able to see the mist, ensuring I find the information on the necromancer.

I carefully rubbed the powder atop the place the flame would burn, and then I grabbed a match from out of the box. The satisfying strike made me smile, and then I carefully put it by the powder. I watched it shake slightly before it burst into a bright, lime green flame.

The vial stayed atop the stand, awaiting the goo to be put into it. I walked over to the spot where I hid everything, prying open the floor. I grabbed the bag that held the glove.

Cautiously, I pulled it out, and stared at the goo. It was the first time I'd actually seen it. The black substance closely resembled ectoplasm, a sure sign of a vengeful spirit or intent. There was a soft glitter to it, the sign of magic. It was barely noticeable to the untrained eye, but I'd spent years perfecting this method of magic extraction.

I pushed the finger of the glove into the vial, smearing as best I could. Once a substantial amount was in there, I put the glove back into the bag. I'd put it back in the floor later, but I needed to get this to start burning. Carefully, I placed it atop the flame.

Now it was time to wait.