Gabriel, Hade, Degei, Namtar, Erubus, Yama, Pana, all gods and angels of the dead. Gabriel is the angel of death, he is the first one you see after you die. Who says which road to take, up or down? Heaven or hell?
What if is not true? Gabriel could too be the last one you see before you die. and in a way he is.
He who delivers you dead, to your arms.
Be afraid because Gabriel’s power has been given to few selected humans.
Are you one of those?
Are you a Necromancer?
New York can be really frightening some times, especially at 12 am. A Saturday night shouldn’t be so lonely but the street is desolated.
I walk down the narrow street making my steps as silence as I could possibly do. I could feel death walking closer and towards me, but could not point out the exact place it was coming from. A dead being you could say, I can feel them. Sense them every where. The graveyards are impossible for me to walk by, the dead bothers me, they yell and send bad –and sometimes good- energies. I walk even faster feeling it closer; I’ve never felt a dead walking to me before. Dead don’t walk; they are like a dark hole of energy that just exists.
“Who’s there?” I ask to the shadow of a building in the corner. “Who’s following me? Show yourself coward” I see something move in the shadow but nobody comes out. I close my eyes and the bad energy just disappears. “Shit!” my cell phone rings, the distinctive tone I’ve gave my boyfriend. “Yes?” I ask into the phone.
“…gone…you…come back…” the static in the phone and the fact that he’s whispering weren’t good mix.
“Speak up you dumb ass!” I yell to the phone.
“Today I die. In three days I’ll look for you. You die” he sounds weak, like just talking was a hard work. His voice trembling.
“You are scaring me Martin. What are you talking about?” I stop walking even though what I wanted to do was run to safety of my house. Run and not to look back to whatever was following me.
“Today I die. Then I’ll come for you” he was whispering.
“Martin? Is this a joke?” I start to get really worry, feeling the dead getting closer to me again. They smell of ashes.
“Listen to me carefully Grabiel, I’ll die tonight. But you’ll come with me later.” the night was getting even darker and I need a place to hide from the invisible eyes of the dead. “I’m dying right now, Graby. But I’ll be back.” He was back to whispering. I hear a voice yelling something in the background of his whispers. “I needed to let her know.” He says to somebody. “Grabiely love, don’t do anything stupid. I’ll be back I promise” the phone went dead after that. Like all that surrounds me; dead.
I run home, the streets where lonelier than ever. The dead watching me, I could feel its eyes on my shoulders; the weight of its sight and the smell of burned were on me.
I finally get to breathe deep after hiking three floors and closing my little New Yorker apartment’s front door. But I could not take the words Martin had said to me out off my head. I call back to his phone all night until the sun brightens my small bedroom. I went to sleep but couldn’t rest much, the dead were in my dream. Many people walking around in the small space that was my psychic dream. All of them I knew once where living people. Not that I knew any of them in particular, but I knew what they were and what they were not. What I don’t know is what they seek from me.
I finally decide that two hours in an in-and-out sleep were enough for me. I need to find Martin and make him pay for my sleepless night. Even though I know is not his fault, this sleepless night happens to me every other day. I’m use already to manage without sleep.
“Martin!! Answer the fucking phone! When you get this massage call me back. You scaring the hell out me…. please call I’m not playing. I’m worrying Martin, call.” This is the third message that I leave in his apartment answer machine. He was supposed to be home, his roommate was out of the city visiting his parent, but Martin had nothing to do on Sunday.
I light a cigarette and smoke half of it fast before laying my head back on my sofa. A big tear coming down my face. What if he left me? He was saying goodbye last night. What if that was not a vile joke? I drop more ash on the ashes pile that I was forming on my table. And stare at it. What if he left me for another woman? What i…? Arrg! Can’t stand the not knowing.
I could feel the tears coming down my face but I keep my sight to the ashes. For some reason I feel them dead, like the black hole that belongs to a coffin or a grave. “Come back to life” I command without thinking twice. The ashes moves, like some wind I was not feeling makes them fly. It’s like a small tornado of ashes in front of me, and then some dry tobacco lay on my table. Just like if I had take them out of my cigarette, without burning them. I gasp and pull away from the table. “Shit!”