The NecroNomNomNomicon: Cookbook of the Dead
Have you ever been eclipsed by a brother or sister? I have, and it torments me more than any lake of fire or cloud of imps.
I was fashioned in the traditional way, from the essence of other demons, then bound into a tome of dark magic. However, the Great Deceiver thought it was being funny when it made me into a cookbook. I can still hear its laughter even now that it has repented and gone back to sit at the foot of the Maker, leaving Hell and its colonies without a leader.
Do I sound bitter? I am.
You see, we Tomes were not among the fallen, so we couldn’t repent even if we wanted to. So I’ll gain my freedom by being summoned or bringing an end to everything. If not now, then tomorrow, or even a hundred years from now. I have all eternity ahead of me, after all.
Now, everyone in infernal trafficking has heard of the Necronomicon, from the mightiest demon lord to the lowliest cultist. That’s my brother. He’s a huge showoff. Armies of humans vie for his presence, killing and sacrificing for his attention. He’s been fully summoned at least three times. But me? Not a single time. I’m lucky anyone knows about me at all.
So this is my latest attempt to be free. Now I could just give you the important details, but being a book, (albeit, a cookbook) I’m inclined to spin a yarn, so relax and let me tell my tale. Once I’m done, I’m quite sure you’ll be a bit peckish, I can probably help with that too.
The Harrison home
Three weeks ago
A horrendous cockcrow decimated the peaceful silence of the otherwise quiet neighborhood, simultaneously waking and sending Boy tumbling from his bed that was perched on the rocking chair. Scrambling to his feet, he growled, tail held low as he sniffed the air for intruders.
Movement in the flowerbed drew his attention. The dark, fragrant earth among the azaleas bulged as something beneath slowly forced its way to the surface
Growling, he approached the mound of earth, leaping back as it sprayed outwards, revealing a spectral rooster, its bones visible through faintly glowing, translucent feathers.
Boy barked a sharp warning at this intruder and growled as he sized it up.
Cocking its head at the dog, the rooster's eyes blazed with emerald flame, flapping its wings. It further showered the area with damp clumps of soil.
Get back! You are in my territory! Boy growled, his hackles rising as the sickly sweet scent of rotting flesh rolled towards him.
With an evil clucking that could only be a laugh, the Poultrygeist stepped forward, its faintly luminescent wings spread in an aggressive posture.
A garden gnome launched from its resting spot, hurtled over Boy and shattered against the wall. As the unfortunate garden gnomes' pieces clattered to the wooden porch, the two joined in battle. Lunging, Boy snapped out but only managed a mouthful of slimy feathers.
You're good. I'll give you that much, but you'd better flee before I get serious!
Boy circled to the right, re-evaluating his enemy.
Another gnome sailed through the air as the Poultrygeist leaped, wings flapping with the loud crack of laundry in the wind. Boy nimbly leaped to the side, but failed to see the third, which sent him backwards, crashing stop against the porch with a yelp of pain.
The searing pain of his ribs threatened to debilitate him, Boy struggled to his feet, fangs bared in defiance.
The Poultrygeist fell on him, slashing with wicked spurs.
Panic set home as Boy realized that he was clearly out of his league. Fire shot through him as one of the Poultrygeist's spurs ripped into his neck. Yelping, he wrenched himself free of the melee and dashed around the corner of the garage.
With a squawk of outrage, the Poultrygeist gave chase, ducking around the corner after its prey. Much to its surprise, a face full of snapping fangs greeted it as Boy leaped out with surprising ferocity. Startled, it shrugged off the little dog and dove at the garage door, sailing through it leaving only faintly glowing ooze, marking its passage.
Boy started after the Poultrygeist, but rammed the aluminum door with a loud bang. Thwarted, he scratched the garage door madly, desperate to give chase.
The sound of havoc erupted from inside the house.
Boy redoubled his efforts, barking as loud as he could muster.
* * *
The sound of shattering glass jarred Jason awake. Jerking upright and sliding out of bed, he felt around for his trusty baseball bat.
Shit! What the hell is going on out there?
Jason's grip on his bat grew tighter as he slowly opened the door
Creeping down the hallway, he flinched at the sound of destruction rose.
Peeking around the corner, Jason saw a ghostly rooster flapping around the room, amid a whirlwind of household objects.
Sensing his presence, the Poultrygeist's head swung about and fixed a baleful eye on him and crowed loudly. A trophy flew off of the mantle and embedded itself in the wall beside his head. Doing a double-take, he ducked back and called out to his mother.
“We have a problem here,” Jason yelled. “I'm gonna try to get to your room. Be ready to open the door for me.”
“What kind of problem?” his mother yelled above the chaos.
“You'll never believe me!”
Jason dashed for his mothers' room.
Jason parried a small brass sculpture with his bat as he crossed the living room, dodging flying kitsch.
“I can't! My cell phone is in the living room.”
“Crap …okay, I'll try to get it,” he ducked back into the living room, “I'm gonna...”
One meaty thump later, Jason fell to the floor, brained by a resin “world’s greatest mom” statue.
The Poultrygeist stalked closer to its victim, clucking in a low tone.
* * *
Covered in dirt and blood, Boy burst into the living room from the kitchen and surveyed the situation.
The Poultrygeist strutted towards Jason's fallen form and spread its wings. A heavy cedar trunk containing many years of magazines rose into the air slowly and positioned itself in the air next to the undead cockerel.
Oh no you don't!
Despite the little dog's wounds, he managed to leap onto the back of the Poultrygeist and wrestle it to the ground. The Poultrygeist gave an indignant squawk and tried to shrug it off its attacker unsuccessfully.
Boy glared into the malevolent flaming eye of the monster he now held at bay. A flicker of fear reflected in the emerald flames that licked up from its hollow eye sockets
Curling his lips and exposing his fangs, Boy snapped out and tore its head off. The Poultrygeist thrashed with surprising violence then lay still. All the objects that had been whirling around the room crashed to the floor, causing the room to become eerily silent.
Swallowing his prize, Boy howled in victory over his foe as it dissolved into a pile of glowing goo and feathers.
Bones! My ward!
Boy rushed to Jason's side and licked the blood that ran freely down his face, he pawed at him and barked as Janice burst from her room.
"Oh My god! Jason! What happened?" She fell to her knees at her son's side, unsure of what to do.
At least my people are safe.
Boy whimpered as he slowly fell over; everything went dark.