Striding down the wooden pier towards the ferry docked at the end, Sarah Hannigan looked back over her shoulder at the grand courthouse building before stepping onboard. The Judges of the Dead had ordered her to cross back onto the banks of life and see the situation brewing there for herself, thus leaving her teammates to deal with the demonic entity known as the Dreamweaver without her. Giving a silent nod to the boatman, one of Charon’s sons by the looks of his skeletal hooded form, she kept her eyes focused on the port on the other side of the grey water that the ferry now ploughed through.
“Do you have any idea about what I’ll find on the other side?” She asked the ferryman as he punted the boat towards life.
“Many dead have arrived recently, but most peculiarly they have been halted from undertaking the crossing.” The boatman croaked as the bronze Romanesque helmets of the Sentinels of Hades could be seen guarding the port and the access to the ferry’s docked there. While some boats were on the water, their rowers transporting the translucent shades of the dead across the river, there was significantly less craft on the water then there should be.
“Where have these dead come from?” Sarah asked as she spotted a grey haze standing the other side of the port, the massive bronze sentinels keeping watch on the host beyond, their bows and pikes held ready to punish those who had no business in death.
“They are the Genoshan dead.” The boatman announced as he pulled the boat alongside the dock. Waving the need of a fee, something that was almost constantly asked by such boatmen types, since she was on court business, the boatman gave a courteous bow, before waiting for his next fare. Walking towards life, Sarah walked past the heel of a massive sentinel and mused on the cruel irony that the mutant dead of Genosha were once more being hassled by such constructs, as they had often been in life. She’d keep that observation to herself, the Genoshan host stretched for at least a mile past the gate into the port, and she knew it would not do to make enemies at this point.
One spirit among many caught her eye, while many of them had been powerful, this particular spirit had been strong in life, a natural leader and well respected by her compatriots. Gingerly Sarah positioned herself to this spirit, while a powerful necromancer, she knew that she didn’t have enough power to quell the thousands of spirits in the host and that subtly would do over sheer brute force.
“Tarren Saunders.” Sarah whispered as she looked the tall woman, her face half burnt off by whatever had killed her, dressed in a hazmat suit. “Can you hear me, Tarren Saunders?”
Tarren jerked her head up and looked at the figure before her. While she had no knowledge of being dead, she like all spirits could detect life, and despite its monstrous serpentine features, the figure before her was alive, more importantly it knew her name and thus could control her.
“Yes, I hear you.” Tarren stated bluntly.
“Tarran my name is Sarah, I am here to figure out why you and your host have been barred from death.” Sarah explained as she looked around the spectral mutants all staring at her, envious of the life she gave out. “You are not safe here, these shores are accessible to necromancers, demons and sorcerers who would abuse your spirits.”
“And why should I obey you?” Tarren asked, some of her strength from life returning to defend herself in death.
“Because I have been ordered to protect you and to make sure you move on.” Sarah replied as she looked up at the sentinels. “Surely you can feel that you were not meant to stop here on these shores for long.”
“We do, but the guards keep us from entering.” Tarren replied. “What can you do that we can’t?” She asked as Sarah pulled out a paper dove from the folds of her cloak and breathed on it, the papers wings folding over to form a stack of paper bound by thick green string.
“I can perform the last rites on Genosha, that may free you to continue.” Sarah told her, “But I need your help, without your names I can’t send you onto rest. This is what the ledger I now gift you with is meant to help with.” She added as she handed Tarren the paper, its form becoming ethereal like the one who now held it. “If you can gather the names of the Genoshan dead, I can save them.” She added. While she could get the names herself, it would take time, and the more she took, the more guarded the remaining spirits would become. When one of their own asked, there would be no such defences warding the questor.
“You would do that for us?” Tarren asked, equal parts surprise and suspicion creeping into her voice. “Why?”
“Because death is meant to be fair.” Sarah responded as she walked up the road towards life. “And this isn’t.” She added as Tarren looked down at the ledger, and then at the host of dead mutants around her.
# # # # #
Galloway, Ireland
Timothy Malloy was in certain circles known as the Sexton, the best superhuman funeral provider in Europe. And in his spare time, not that he got much of that, he was a formidable sorcerer well respected in the mystical community. Slipping on his tall black hat and matching leather gloves, he ran his hands over the body of the deceased inhuman before him, half muttered spells closing the wounds and retarding the decay of the body.
“I know ya there you wee gobshitte.” Timothy stated as he placed his hands over the eyes of the body he was working on, a twinkle of simulated life entering the orbs. “So, come out and face me like a beastie ya corpse eater.”
“I think I’m insulted, I’ve never been called a corpse eater before.” Sarah huffed as she emerged from the shadows in the corner of the room and looked the man dressed in black silk trousers and overalls up and down.
“Hannigan, still creeping around I see.” Timothy sighed as he turned to face the hooded figure. “What can I do for ye today?”
“I need help performing the last rites.” Sarah admitted as Timothy covered the body with a sheet and wheeled it back into a hermetic cylinder, its surface carved with glyphs to ward off decay and corpse hungry ghouls. “I would not normally need the assistance but the scale of what I’m undertaking is grand to say the least, and you owe me.”
“I recall that I owe Nero, not you Zombie Master.” Timothy corrected her. “Still your query had me intrigued, what grave could be so large that you couldn’t handle it alone?”
“Genosha.” Sarah replied flatly. “We’re going to give last rites to an entire nation.”
# # # # #
Hammer Bay, Genosha
A swift flight sent the two gulls soaring onto an outcrop of rock surrounded by the tar black ocean, small flickers of flame dancing across the surface of the water. Returning to their real forms, Sarah and Timothy looked out across the ruined city, red forked lightning framing the buildings, chunks of masonry floating up and down until they were swallowed by the rents in time and space that opened at random in the skyscape.
“This island is its own hell.” Timothy stated as he shouldered the shovel he had brought with him. “And you don’t need to be intimate with death to know that this place is a mass grave.” He added as a red streak flew overhead, perused seconds later by a green comet that left a metallic tang in the air.
“Genosha is carrion, and the scavengers have arrived.” Sarah commented. “The Avengers and the X-Men squabble over its bloated corpse, and I suspect others will not be too far behind them.”
“What are we if not scavengers?” Timothy asked as he began to make his way down the outcrop and towards a beached tanker that bridged the gap towards the main island.
“Ah but I have never hidden that I was nothing but the corpse eating wyrm, just as you never hid that you were but a sexton beetle.” Sarah replied as she followed him down. “Death is our business, and will always be so.”
“Not to stop the poetic imagery, but we need a key stone corpse to perform the ritual.” Timothy sighed as he walked across the oil splashed deck of the tanker. “Do you have part of its essence so we can find it?” He added as Sarah held out her hand, thick blood red smoke drifting up from her outstretched palm.
“The essence of Tarren Saunders, she will lead them well.” Sarah explained as she presented her palm to Timothy, the undertaker removing two bright black buttons from his pocket and placing them on the ground. As they hit the metal, the buttons swelled up and transformed into two spaniel sized orange and black beetles. Not wasting any time, the beetles scuttled off, leading the two mourners inland and away from Hammer Bay.
# # # # #
The beetles led the way for the next two hours, only halting when the path became too treacherous or disappeared altogether. Many dead bodies lied on the road, as did some of the living, but they fled fearful at the stink of power that the newcomers gave off, not to mention partially distracted by the fighting in the distance between the X-Men and the Avengers. Finally, the insects came to a stop on the shores of a black lake its surface aflame, a half burning body bobbing from the ebb and flow of the oil stained tide.
“She is here.” Sarah lamented as she and Timothy entered the water and pulled the body out and placed it on the blackened sand. “Now I have found her in life I can determine how she died.” She added as Timothy returned the beetles to their button like state, their job done. “She died after the initial attack leading her people away from the coast. The lake was caught in a local gravity surge, the water became the atmosphere burning…burning everyone. She pulled two people out of the darkness before succumbing to her injuries.”
“Nobody deserves to die like that.” Timothy sighed as he stabbed his shovel into the ground. “You’ll need to enter the dead roads to reclaim Tarren’s soul and the ledger to start the ritual. I’ll prepare the grave, it’ll be ready by the time you return.”
“Be careful, this place isn’t safe.” Sarah warned him as she waded into the water, the fire on the surface turning blue before extinguishing.
# # # # #
Walking towards the port, Sarah quickly found Tarren her hand clutched round the ledger, black ink marked across the once pristine white pages.
“Are you alright?” Sarah asked as she secretly got ready to bind Tarren to her and send her walking from one dead realm to another.
“Yes, once I explained what this was and what it would do people were eager to sign.” Tarren explained as she handed the book back to Sarah, unaware that the item had been be-spelled to compel the dead to write in it. “What happens now?”
“Now you walk, walk back to life Tarren Saunders, walk back to your body and live once more.” Sarah whispered, her words causing Tarren’s spirit to shake before it robotically put one foot in front of the other and walked to life.
“Why are you doing this!?” Tarren screamed as she cut through the host of dead mutants. “Why me?!”
“Because you still have a role to play in all this.” Sarah replied coldly as she kept her main focus on making Tarren walk fully into life. Striding alongside her, she could see the dead mutant resist her orders to no avail, even without magic Sarah had some control over the dead, a part of her heritage, backed with mysticism even the strongest spirits would abide her orders, and with a tortured look Tarren breached the border of life, her body twitching and writhing as it got to its feet. As with most spirits forced into their corpses Tarren’s body was ill fitting and it was clear that the spirit was most upset at being back in Genosha.
“What role?” Tarren asked, her speech slurred as she drunkenly limped towards Sarah.
“You took the names of the dead, you must read them while we start the rite.” Sarah explained as she placed the book on the edge of the grave Timothy had been working on. “And then once done you must lead them across the river. I can assure you that peace will be found on the other shore, and that you will be allowed to live unmolested.”
“And what if I don’t want to?” Tarren hissed.
“Then walk into life and lead them there, but you know that this is no place for you now.” Timothy muttered as Tarren picked up the book and shot a hurt look at Sarah.
“We will head to the other shore.” Tarren sighed as she sat down on the edge of the grave. “Please hurry, I don’t wish to be here much longer.”
“We will try out best.” Sarah told her as she sat down next to her and closed her eyes.
“Walker rest your feet a moment, this road is long and the path dangerous.” Sarah muttered as blue concentric rings radiated out across the entire island of Genosha so all the dead could hear the last rite. “Let me help your journey, guard thee against the pain.”
“Walker rest here for eternity, this soil is warm and guarded.” Timothy added. “Let me provide a bed for you, bring you sleeping to the shore.”
“Start reading.” Sarah whispered to Tarren as she stated the next line. “Walker take to your boat, may the crossing be calm, may the wind blow true.”
“Walker feel the wind, let it drive you ashore.” Timothy announced as Tarren read the first name in the ledger. “Let your new land embrace you, let no living shame you.”
“Walker be at peace.” Sarah whispered as she picked up a handful of black earth and drizzled it into the grave. “May your dreams be fair and your sleep deep. Walker goodbye.” She added before taking up the first line again. Until all the names were read out, the rite would continue. As the ritual continued, the grave filled up, and as Tarren read her own name, Sarah and Timothy both stated the last line at the same time.
“Walker farewell, as angels fall may you forever rest your good deeds down and your wicked ones forgotten.”
“What happens now?” Tarren asked as she looked out towards the lake shore, a tiny speck of green beginning to break through the blackened shoreline.
“Life returns, there will be snowdrops in spring, bluebells and anemones in the summer and honeysuckle in the autumn and meadow grass all year round.” Timothy told her as he took the ledger from her and placed it on the ground. “Magic will ensure that this place remains untouched until the end of time, even after the rest of Genosha has crumbled into the sea, now watch.” He instructed as a lectern of honeysuckle twigs spiralled out of the soil until they were at chest height, the ledger held open by two wooden wings.
“Should anyone fall in Genosha the ledger will record it and allow them entry across the river.” Sarah stated. “Genosha will be cared for after its death, as will its people. Now I think it’s time for you to lead your people.”
“Thank you.” Tarren whispered as her body collapsed into the floor and her spirit appeared for the briefest second before walking into death. Following her Sarah led Timothy onto the dead road and walked to the ferry port, the sentinels now stood aside as Tarren walked through the gates, the rest of the Genoshan host following her, the ferrymen ready to receive them. Stepping into one of the ferry’s Tarren turned and shot a smile at the two living figures watching her, before turning away as she and the others in the boat were rowed away,
“Goodbye Tarren, and goodbye Genosha, may you finally rest.” Sarah whispered as she and Timothy turned and headed back towards life, their duty towards Genosha done.
END
“Do you have any idea about what I’ll find on the other side?” She asked the ferryman as he punted the boat towards life.
“Many dead have arrived recently, but most peculiarly they have been halted from undertaking the crossing.” The boatman croaked as the bronze Romanesque helmets of the Sentinels of Hades could be seen guarding the port and the access to the ferry’s docked there. While some boats were on the water, their rowers transporting the translucent shades of the dead across the river, there was significantly less craft on the water then there should be.
“Where have these dead come from?” Sarah asked as she spotted a grey haze standing the other side of the port, the massive bronze sentinels keeping watch on the host beyond, their bows and pikes held ready to punish those who had no business in death.
“They are the Genoshan dead.” The boatman announced as he pulled the boat alongside the dock. Waving the need of a fee, something that was almost constantly asked by such boatmen types, since she was on court business, the boatman gave a courteous bow, before waiting for his next fare. Walking towards life, Sarah walked past the heel of a massive sentinel and mused on the cruel irony that the mutant dead of Genosha were once more being hassled by such constructs, as they had often been in life. She’d keep that observation to herself, the Genoshan host stretched for at least a mile past the gate into the port, and she knew it would not do to make enemies at this point.
One spirit among many caught her eye, while many of them had been powerful, this particular spirit had been strong in life, a natural leader and well respected by her compatriots. Gingerly Sarah positioned herself to this spirit, while a powerful necromancer, she knew that she didn’t have enough power to quell the thousands of spirits in the host and that subtly would do over sheer brute force.
“Tarren Saunders.” Sarah whispered as she looked the tall woman, her face half burnt off by whatever had killed her, dressed in a hazmat suit. “Can you hear me, Tarren Saunders?”
Tarren jerked her head up and looked at the figure before her. While she had no knowledge of being dead, she like all spirits could detect life, and despite its monstrous serpentine features, the figure before her was alive, more importantly it knew her name and thus could control her.
“Yes, I hear you.” Tarren stated bluntly.
“Tarran my name is Sarah, I am here to figure out why you and your host have been barred from death.” Sarah explained as she looked around the spectral mutants all staring at her, envious of the life she gave out. “You are not safe here, these shores are accessible to necromancers, demons and sorcerers who would abuse your spirits.”
“And why should I obey you?” Tarren asked, some of her strength from life returning to defend herself in death.
“Because I have been ordered to protect you and to make sure you move on.” Sarah replied as she looked up at the sentinels. “Surely you can feel that you were not meant to stop here on these shores for long.”
“We do, but the guards keep us from entering.” Tarren replied. “What can you do that we can’t?” She asked as Sarah pulled out a paper dove from the folds of her cloak and breathed on it, the papers wings folding over to form a stack of paper bound by thick green string.
“I can perform the last rites on Genosha, that may free you to continue.” Sarah told her, “But I need your help, without your names I can’t send you onto rest. This is what the ledger I now gift you with is meant to help with.” She added as she handed Tarren the paper, its form becoming ethereal like the one who now held it. “If you can gather the names of the Genoshan dead, I can save them.” She added. While she could get the names herself, it would take time, and the more she took, the more guarded the remaining spirits would become. When one of their own asked, there would be no such defences warding the questor.
“You would do that for us?” Tarren asked, equal parts surprise and suspicion creeping into her voice. “Why?”
“Because death is meant to be fair.” Sarah responded as she walked up the road towards life. “And this isn’t.” She added as Tarren looked down at the ledger, and then at the host of dead mutants around her.
# # # # #
Galloway, Ireland
Timothy Malloy was in certain circles known as the Sexton, the best superhuman funeral provider in Europe. And in his spare time, not that he got much of that, he was a formidable sorcerer well respected in the mystical community. Slipping on his tall black hat and matching leather gloves, he ran his hands over the body of the deceased inhuman before him, half muttered spells closing the wounds and retarding the decay of the body.
“I know ya there you wee gobshitte.” Timothy stated as he placed his hands over the eyes of the body he was working on, a twinkle of simulated life entering the orbs. “So, come out and face me like a beastie ya corpse eater.”
“I think I’m insulted, I’ve never been called a corpse eater before.” Sarah huffed as she emerged from the shadows in the corner of the room and looked the man dressed in black silk trousers and overalls up and down.
“Hannigan, still creeping around I see.” Timothy sighed as he turned to face the hooded figure. “What can I do for ye today?”
“I need help performing the last rites.” Sarah admitted as Timothy covered the body with a sheet and wheeled it back into a hermetic cylinder, its surface carved with glyphs to ward off decay and corpse hungry ghouls. “I would not normally need the assistance but the scale of what I’m undertaking is grand to say the least, and you owe me.”
“I recall that I owe Nero, not you Zombie Master.” Timothy corrected her. “Still your query had me intrigued, what grave could be so large that you couldn’t handle it alone?”
“Genosha.” Sarah replied flatly. “We’re going to give last rites to an entire nation.”
# # # # #
Hammer Bay, Genosha
A swift flight sent the two gulls soaring onto an outcrop of rock surrounded by the tar black ocean, small flickers of flame dancing across the surface of the water. Returning to their real forms, Sarah and Timothy looked out across the ruined city, red forked lightning framing the buildings, chunks of masonry floating up and down until they were swallowed by the rents in time and space that opened at random in the skyscape.
“This island is its own hell.” Timothy stated as he shouldered the shovel he had brought with him. “And you don’t need to be intimate with death to know that this place is a mass grave.” He added as a red streak flew overhead, perused seconds later by a green comet that left a metallic tang in the air.
“Genosha is carrion, and the scavengers have arrived.” Sarah commented. “The Avengers and the X-Men squabble over its bloated corpse, and I suspect others will not be too far behind them.”
“What are we if not scavengers?” Timothy asked as he began to make his way down the outcrop and towards a beached tanker that bridged the gap towards the main island.
“Ah but I have never hidden that I was nothing but the corpse eating wyrm, just as you never hid that you were but a sexton beetle.” Sarah replied as she followed him down. “Death is our business, and will always be so.”
“Not to stop the poetic imagery, but we need a key stone corpse to perform the ritual.” Timothy sighed as he walked across the oil splashed deck of the tanker. “Do you have part of its essence so we can find it?” He added as Sarah held out her hand, thick blood red smoke drifting up from her outstretched palm.
“The essence of Tarren Saunders, she will lead them well.” Sarah explained as she presented her palm to Timothy, the undertaker removing two bright black buttons from his pocket and placing them on the ground. As they hit the metal, the buttons swelled up and transformed into two spaniel sized orange and black beetles. Not wasting any time, the beetles scuttled off, leading the two mourners inland and away from Hammer Bay.
# # # # #
The beetles led the way for the next two hours, only halting when the path became too treacherous or disappeared altogether. Many dead bodies lied on the road, as did some of the living, but they fled fearful at the stink of power that the newcomers gave off, not to mention partially distracted by the fighting in the distance between the X-Men and the Avengers. Finally, the insects came to a stop on the shores of a black lake its surface aflame, a half burning body bobbing from the ebb and flow of the oil stained tide.
“She is here.” Sarah lamented as she and Timothy entered the water and pulled the body out and placed it on the blackened sand. “Now I have found her in life I can determine how she died.” She added as Timothy returned the beetles to their button like state, their job done. “She died after the initial attack leading her people away from the coast. The lake was caught in a local gravity surge, the water became the atmosphere burning…burning everyone. She pulled two people out of the darkness before succumbing to her injuries.”
“Nobody deserves to die like that.” Timothy sighed as he stabbed his shovel into the ground. “You’ll need to enter the dead roads to reclaim Tarren’s soul and the ledger to start the ritual. I’ll prepare the grave, it’ll be ready by the time you return.”
“Be careful, this place isn’t safe.” Sarah warned him as she waded into the water, the fire on the surface turning blue before extinguishing.
# # # # #
Walking towards the port, Sarah quickly found Tarren her hand clutched round the ledger, black ink marked across the once pristine white pages.
“Are you alright?” Sarah asked as she secretly got ready to bind Tarren to her and send her walking from one dead realm to another.
“Yes, once I explained what this was and what it would do people were eager to sign.” Tarren explained as she handed the book back to Sarah, unaware that the item had been be-spelled to compel the dead to write in it. “What happens now?”
“Now you walk, walk back to life Tarren Saunders, walk back to your body and live once more.” Sarah whispered, her words causing Tarren’s spirit to shake before it robotically put one foot in front of the other and walked to life.
“Why are you doing this!?” Tarren screamed as she cut through the host of dead mutants. “Why me?!”
“Because you still have a role to play in all this.” Sarah replied coldly as she kept her main focus on making Tarren walk fully into life. Striding alongside her, she could see the dead mutant resist her orders to no avail, even without magic Sarah had some control over the dead, a part of her heritage, backed with mysticism even the strongest spirits would abide her orders, and with a tortured look Tarren breached the border of life, her body twitching and writhing as it got to its feet. As with most spirits forced into their corpses Tarren’s body was ill fitting and it was clear that the spirit was most upset at being back in Genosha.
“What role?” Tarren asked, her speech slurred as she drunkenly limped towards Sarah.
“You took the names of the dead, you must read them while we start the rite.” Sarah explained as she placed the book on the edge of the grave Timothy had been working on. “And then once done you must lead them across the river. I can assure you that peace will be found on the other shore, and that you will be allowed to live unmolested.”
“And what if I don’t want to?” Tarren hissed.
“Then walk into life and lead them there, but you know that this is no place for you now.” Timothy muttered as Tarren picked up the book and shot a hurt look at Sarah.
“We will head to the other shore.” Tarren sighed as she sat down on the edge of the grave. “Please hurry, I don’t wish to be here much longer.”
“We will try out best.” Sarah told her as she sat down next to her and closed her eyes.
“Walker rest your feet a moment, this road is long and the path dangerous.” Sarah muttered as blue concentric rings radiated out across the entire island of Genosha so all the dead could hear the last rite. “Let me help your journey, guard thee against the pain.”
“Walker rest here for eternity, this soil is warm and guarded.” Timothy added. “Let me provide a bed for you, bring you sleeping to the shore.”
“Start reading.” Sarah whispered to Tarren as she stated the next line. “Walker take to your boat, may the crossing be calm, may the wind blow true.”
“Walker feel the wind, let it drive you ashore.” Timothy announced as Tarren read the first name in the ledger. “Let your new land embrace you, let no living shame you.”
“Walker be at peace.” Sarah whispered as she picked up a handful of black earth and drizzled it into the grave. “May your dreams be fair and your sleep deep. Walker goodbye.” She added before taking up the first line again. Until all the names were read out, the rite would continue. As the ritual continued, the grave filled up, and as Tarren read her own name, Sarah and Timothy both stated the last line at the same time.
“Walker farewell, as angels fall may you forever rest your good deeds down and your wicked ones forgotten.”
“What happens now?” Tarren asked as she looked out towards the lake shore, a tiny speck of green beginning to break through the blackened shoreline.
“Life returns, there will be snowdrops in spring, bluebells and anemones in the summer and honeysuckle in the autumn and meadow grass all year round.” Timothy told her as he took the ledger from her and placed it on the ground. “Magic will ensure that this place remains untouched until the end of time, even after the rest of Genosha has crumbled into the sea, now watch.” He instructed as a lectern of honeysuckle twigs spiralled out of the soil until they were at chest height, the ledger held open by two wooden wings.
“Should anyone fall in Genosha the ledger will record it and allow them entry across the river.” Sarah stated. “Genosha will be cared for after its death, as will its people. Now I think it’s time for you to lead your people.”
“Thank you.” Tarren whispered as her body collapsed into the floor and her spirit appeared for the briefest second before walking into death. Following her Sarah led Timothy onto the dead road and walked to the ferry port, the sentinels now stood aside as Tarren walked through the gates, the rest of the Genoshan host following her, the ferrymen ready to receive them. Stepping into one of the ferry’s Tarren turned and shot a smile at the two living figures watching her, before turning away as she and the others in the boat were rowed away,
“Goodbye Tarren, and goodbye Genosha, may you finally rest.” Sarah whispered as she and Timothy turned and headed back towards life, their duty towards Genosha done.
END