Chapter 36: Resurrection Spell
Ethan answered the call casually. "Hey, Mary? What's up — need backup with a patient?"
On the other end came strained, shallow breathing.
"…I've… been stabbed…"
Behind her voice were faint metallic clatters and the scraping sound of someone dragging themselves across the floor.
Ethan shot upright, heart slamming into his throat. "Where are you?! The clinic?"
"Yes…"
A dull thud echoed through the phone — something heavy hitting the floor — followed by a burst of static.
"Mary?! Mary!!"
He was already on his feet. He didn't even say goodbye to Max or Caroline — he just bolted out of the restaurant.
The neon lights outside Rayne Clinic had gone dark. The building sat in cold shadow, only the faint blue glow of the sign reflecting against the glass.
Mary leaned against the wall, her left hand clamped over her abdomen. Warm blood slipped steadily through her fingers.
She forced her right hand into her pocket, searching for her keys—
Clink.
They slipped from her grip and hit the ground. The sound rang painfully loud in the silent night.
Teeth clenched, she dropped to her knees, fingers trembling as she felt across the floor until she found them. She jammed the key into the lock.
The door opened — and she collapsed forward with it, falling into the clinic.
Cool air rushed over her. The sharp scent of disinfectant carried a strange, familiar sense of safety.
She didn't have the strength to stand.
She dragged herself forward with her arms, leaving a dark red trail across the polished tile.
Past the front counter.
Down the corridor.
Each push tore at her abdomen, sending waves of white-hot pain through her body.
She reached the operating room entrance and stopped, strength gone — but after a few seconds, she forced her elbows under her again and kept crawling.
Like broken machinery running on its last spark.
She reached the center of the operating room and rolled onto her back on the cold floor. With shaking hands, she pulled a suture kit beside her.
She inhaled sharply — the air tasted of iron.
Her fingers trembled as they gripped the needle.
The first stitch pierced her flesh.
Her body jolted like she'd been hit with electricity.
Second stitch.
Third.
Blood soaked through the sutures, turning the thread slick. Her fingers slipped. The needle fell, clinking sharply against the floor like a countdown.
She grabbed it again and kept stitching. Slower now. Drifting. Running on nothing but instinct.
Finally—the last stitch.
She pulled the thread tight, released it, and the needle dropped beside her.
The moment it was done, her whole body loosened. Her head rolled to one side, lashes trembling, breaths growing thinner and thinner.
Cold from the tile floor crept up her back. The world in front of her dimmed, little by little.
Darkness took her.
---
When Ethan reached the clinic, he saw a man collapsed outside and a trail of blood leading in through the door.
He shoved the door open. The metallic stench of blood slammed into him.
"Mary?!"
His voice echoed through the empty clinic. No answer.
He followed the blood.
She lay on the floor, face up, like a white flower crushed underfoot.
Her wound had been crudely stitched shut. Tight sutures, but blood still seeped between them, spreading into a dark red pool. One hand lay at her side, fingers stained with dried blood.
Ethan dropped to his knees beside her. His fingers pressed to her neck.
Nothing.
No pulse.
No breath.
Her body was already cooling.
He closed his eyes, inhaled slowly, and gently repositioned her. His palm settled over her chest, where a trace of warmth still lingered.
"Then let's try."
He didn't cast immediately. He forced his breathing to steady first.
When it did, he began the spell he had practiced more than any other—
"Resurrection."
Light spilled over Mary's body. In that glow, Ethan noticed something he hadn't before—tiny motes of light floating in the air around her. Some were being drawn into her body. Many more drifted nearby.
Mary did not move.
Those motes… parts of a soul? Why didn't I see them when I revived the turkey?
No time to dwell. He reset his breathing and cast again.
More motes stirred, drawn in, sinking slowly into her.
Understanding struck him like a flash of lightning:
—If all of them return… she might wake.
So he continued.
The spell's energy pulled the scattered lights together, forming something like a net of mending threads.
And then—
A low, damp, echoing voice slid into his mind.
She is already dead… You are wasting time.
Not outside. Not his own thoughts.
Like wind from the edge of the universe pouring through cracks in reality.
Void whispers.
Ethan swallowed. "Get out."
The voice continued.
The Light is fading.
You can feel it. Her soul is drifting away.
The Light has abandoned her.
His jaw clenched.
Only Shadow… can bring her back.
He ignored it, but his heart rate spiked.
Her soul has gone too far.
The Light cannot illuminate the path back.
Shadow can.
Understanding clicked again.
If the soul scatters too far, the Light loses its reach… These motes really are fragments of her soul.
Great. The cosmic horror hotline also offered educational services.
He kept casting. The lights around Mary began linking together, forming the outline of a soul.
The Void felt like it was watching. Maybe smiling.
She is too damaged…
Even if she wakes, Shadow must mend what is broken.
Oh—thanks for the tip.
He remembered the turkey. Resurrection alone had kept it alive seven seconds. Follow-up healing had stretched that to a minute.
He chose carefully.
Guardian Spirit.
A warm, solemn presence manifested, wings unfurling over Mary's body. The air shifted. Energy flowed like a soft current.
The Void changed tactics.
She is getting warmer…
You feel it, don't you?
The room did seem warmer.
Sweat beaded on Ethan's forehead. He was drawing on nearly everything he had.
He inhaled and cast again.
"Resurrection."
This time, the light wasn't blinding. Not explosive.
Just a soft, almost invisible glow.
It seeped into her skin, her blood, along the sutures—like circuits lighting back up.
Then the Void bared its fangs.
Let Light and Shadow intertwine.
Infuse Shadow into your Light.
Just a little… and she will be bound to you forever.
She will owe you life. Owe you soul.
She will obey.
Become your puppet.
"Shut up."
He didn't break the spell.
One last whisper:
You will return.
Because Light… cannot save everyone.
Ethan finally stopped. He had nothing left.
He stared at Mary, hope and terror twisting together.
Suddenly—
Her chest jerked.
"—KGH!"
She sucked in a violent breath. Her chest rose and fell. Her heart began to beat.
Ethan's hand fell away. His whole body trembled.
Mary curled slightly, pain wracking her. She blinked, dazed, and focused on him.
His voice came out hoarse.
"…Hey. Welcome back."