It was dark. William knew that. But he could see, astonishingly well in fact. The world had taken on a monochrome tone, blacks and whites with splashes of gray in between. It felt a lot like those drugs he had taken once. Incredibly unpleasant. He had only taken them once for a reason.
The place looked on the inside much the same as it had on the outside. Dark, dreary, and very, very dead. It stank here too, and he gagged. He didn’t have a physical body, but it seemed his senses remained intact. After regaining his composure, William took a more careful look around. It was abandoned, dusty, and entirely unnerving. The oddest thing about the peeling grey walls and rotting carpet was the sense of preservation. It was dead abandoned, and yet seemed alive. Cupboards and pictures lined the walls, and it was as though the place was abandoned in an instant, and left to silently wither. But it had not withered and died, instead it had twisted, grown strange and alien to the world. It was a creation all its own, not one architects, nor designers, nor people could predict. It scared the hell out of William.
“Hello darkness, my old friend…” he sang softly. He moved slowly, floating along cautiously. He may be a ghost, but something felt distinctly wrong here. And even William’s reckless, fearless nature felt disturbed. And, being that he was normally not so, being disturbed made him more disturbed, which made him even more disturbed and… it’s clear where this is headed. Suffice to say, William was not in the best of moods. The twisting hallways seemed to repeat as he went, same peeling paint, same closed doors. He tried looking through a door at one point. Tried. It had pushed him away, acting once more like a barrier. And so he followed the single hallway, with only bends but no splits. It felt far larger in here than it had been outside. And then he saw light. He moved forward slightly quickly, but stopped upon hearing a light humming. It was soft, quiet, and played a mournful tune. Silently sliding around the corner, he peeked inside. Somehow, the room seemed more dead, and yet more alive than the rest of the building. It was lit by simple electronic lamps, and strange papers and objects cluttered the room. A skull hung from the ceiling, and bottles and surgical tools were scattered all over. William barely noticed, however, due to his focus on the center of the room. The cloaked figure from before was no longer cloaked, and sat with his body on a long table.  He had already determined the gender, but the appearance of the body stealer was completely unexpected.
She was young, probably slightly younger than him (or at least, she looked that way), with pale skin and incredibly light blonde hair. She looked like an angel. Or would, anyway, had she not been wearing a black cloak and sewing his corpse together. She held a long black needle, which threaded through his skin a silky white fiber. She moved quickly, sewing his toenails back on, stitching the larger wounds and bandaging the smaller ones. William felt queasy. Her snapping his fingers back into place didn’t help his stomach. “You know,” He mumbled, floating overhead, “While I appreciate the sentiment, a dead body in one piece it still a dead body.” He said it to himself, but, once more to his shock, the girl looked up, bright green eyes staring right at him. William froze in shock, and the girl smiled before laughing and returning to the strange work. William recovered for a moment before attempting something once more. “So, you can hear me?” The woman, still facing the now reassembling body, nodded. “And can see me?” Another nod. “And have no problem experimenting with my corpse in my presence?” She laughed again, before turning back towards him and walking forward. William flinched, but she just walked through him to a cabinet in the back. Slightly offended by being dismissed, William looked over her shoulder. Inside the cabinet, along with the dust and ruins of spider colonies, were body-parts. In jars. William thought he might throw up, if he could. She pulled out a small mayonnaise jar that sat between two large ones. Inside were… eyes. Undamaged and unrotten eyes. She placed it on a small cart and then reached in for two more jars, one with what looked like skin, and another with a bizarre assortment of toes and fingers. William followed her as she brought the cart back to where his body lay. And then he wished he hadn’t.
She lifted up his head and examined it closely. Floating overhead, William mentally smacked himself for the ever-so-slightly dirty thoughts that totally did not go through his head just now. Then those thoughts were lost in horror. She had placed the head on the table and begun to peel away the skin on his face, the scarred and torn pieces dropped as she worked. William wasn’t sure what a ghost would throw up, but he felt like he would soon find out. And yet he stayed. Then she pulled out a spoon looking tool. He could tell what that was for. “Oh don’t you…” His voice was lost as she plunged out an eye. Black and burned, and utterly disgusting, it popped out with a schluk. Then she moved onto the other. And so William looked back into his face, skinless and eyeless. “Well if I hadn’t lost my good looks before I sure as hell have now.” A giggle. Dammit those laughs did not help the situation.
She pushed through him once more and grabbed the jar of eyeballs. She pulled out a pair of gloves and opened the jar. It too, stank of death. William watched (slightly horrified, slightly amazed) as she fished her hand inside. She pulled out one eye, placed it on the table, and then fished for another. After finding two eyes she apparently deemed satisfactory. She turned back to William’s head. Now, William wasn’t a medical expert, but he was fairly certain that jamming eyes into skull sockets didn’t mean they worked. Which is exactly why he was quite shocked when the girl jammed the eyes into his skull. They spun disgustingly in their new moorings, clearly not meant to fit. William gagged again.
As if that was not enough, the woman then moved to the jar of skin. She pulled it out and, to William’s further horror, began to sew it to his face. When she was done, the result was a bizarre scWilliamrow of a head. Then she moved to the fingers and toes. Many of his were mangled beyond recognition as digits, even after her earlier corrections. She cut these off. Now, William could see the sense in this (in a weird, reconstructing a body sort of way), but he was still offended when she dumped these pieces in a trash can. She then pulled out the appropriately removed fingers and toes from the jar of these, and sewed these onto him as well. As a finish she connected the head and the body, sewing these together with the black needle and the white thread. She wiped her brow, mixing the sweat with the blood from the corpse. William stared down at the bizarre creation. Mismatched eyes, loose face skin, and fingers that were too long, too short, or all in-between. Not to mention the countless scars. “Is it your hobby to make horrifying flesh dolls or is this your first try. Not judging or anything, just saying you might want to work on…” William paused and c***ed his head, “the appeal?”
The girl looked at him, directly this time. Then she laughed and pulled out… More needles. William sighed and shrugged his shoulders. Turning back away, once more to the flesh doll. Then she began to place the jet black needles. They stabbed into his body at regular intervals, into joints, down limbs, in each hand. A whole ring around his head and heart. And then, she turned to him, tilted her head, and smiled. It was innocent, but William found it incredibly unnerving. “Now for the fun part.” She giggled. Her voice was light and full of joy. He would’ve been attracted in perhaps any other circumstance.
She slowly turned away, and as she did, William felt something. A sixth sense of sorts told him something bizarre was about to happen. More bizarre than the rest of the night combined. As her hand stretched out over his body, he felt a desire to run. He couldn’t of course, but he wanted to anyway. And as energy flicked between the woman’s fingers, running down into the black needles and sending the body into a spasm, he felt himself pulled. And then he knew running was useless, because in an instant, he was dragged back to the convulsing body.

William’s head felt like it was splitting. His skin crawled with energy, as if it was moving, rearranging and sliding. His eyes felt like they would grow and shrink until they exploded from his head. His fingers curled and snapped back and forth. He tried to scream, but his lungs wouldn’t stay in place. And all over him, tiny snakes crawled through his body. His mind felt like it would give out, and then… nothing.
He couldn’t see. He knew he was alive again. He could feel his legs, his arms, his face. He could even move them, if he tried. But he couldn’t see. “Hello?” He called out. His voice was hoarse and his throat dry. “Hello? Creepy lady? I can’t see.” There was a giggle.
“Try opening your eyes.” William opened his eyes. The room was much the same as before, except now he was not floating over her shoulder, but laying on the table. He looked up to see the girl. She smiled at him, “Better now? Open eyes usually help seeing.” William blushed embarrassment.
“Well opening eyes didn’t exactly cross my mind.” He leaned up but flinched with the stinging pain, “My poor, aching mind.” The girl smiled.
“Looks like I chose a good one.” She laughed a little, “You’re rather amusing.” William stared at her a moment.
“Chose? Chosen for what? And how am I alive? And what the hell is going on? And why… Why am I not wearing any pants?” He had looked down. He was stark naked. Scars outlined his chest, as though large wounds had healed. However, he was more concerned with the pants situation.
“Oh, that?” She said innocently, “Well I needed to sew you back together and clothes would get in the way so...”
“So I- my body- was naked in front of you this whole time.”
“Yes?” She tilted her head questioningly. William face palmed.
“…Just give me some pants.”
William stared into the mirror. He had been given some clothes and found the nearest room that didn’t feel like a deathtrap. Before putting the clothes on, however, he wanted to see his body. Somethings had definitely changed. He had seen the body before… whatever just happened had happened. It was an unrecognizable monstrosity of mixed flesh. Now it looked like, well, him. The skin that had been crudely sown on to his face before had melded perfectly. His face had been restored (thank God). The eyes had grown or shrunk to fit their new homes. The fingers had too. However, things had changed as well. His eyes were now different colors, no longer a light hazel but one bright blue and one chocolate brown. He liked that. He also felt a little taller. Maybe his body had changed to accommodate the new parts as well? He looked at the clothes in his hand. Tan pants. White shirt. Both clean, somehow, in this dust city. He pulled them on. They fit disturbingly well. He looked back in the mirror. The stark white scar that ran all the way around his neck was still visible. Badass.
He left the room and carefully navigated his way back to the body room. He couldn’t see as well as he could as a ghost, but he still appreciated the normalcy of human vision. The room was the only one that had light, so it was easy to spot. The door stood half open and light poured into the hallway. He walked up and peeked in. The girl, who still had yet to give her name, was cleaning her tools. Surprisingly, William was only slightly disturbed by the sight of a young woman cleaning his blood of off several sharp instruments.
“So,” He began, “Introductions?”
“Oh don’t worry,” She looked back at him and smiled once more. It seemed so out of place in the circumstances, “I already know who you are William Fender.”
“Okay, but what’s your-“ He stopped, “How exactly do you know my name?” He didn’t think he could deal with it if this girl was a psychic.
“Simple, I looked at the records.” She spoke as if this was obvious.
“Records of what?” William sighed. Why did a simple question have to be so difficult?
“Records of targets killed.” She leaned back on the table, “You certainly made the higher ups lose it. They went after you nearly immediately. And of course, as the cleaner, I had your documents.” She returned to her tools.
“Wait…” William thought a moment, “So you’re actually the Mob’s cleaner?”
“Yes.” William stared at her. She sighed and continued, “Yes, I am called the Mob’s cleaner, but in reality I just do this job to keep a fresh supply of bodies.” She pointed to the cabinet, “For either the experiment we just did or for spare parts.”
“I seriously feel a lack of communication in this relationship.” William raised his eyebrows. The girl snorted.
“Well yes, I suppose you do need a little context.”
“No, no.” William shook his head, “I’m perfectly fine with being raised from the dead without a clue in the world what’s happening. It’s a hobby of mine.” She laughed and looked up.
“Very well then,” She said, standing to her full height and staring William in the eyes, “I am Serena Magdalena, twenty-three years old, and a necromancer in hire of the mob to clean up after their messes. This gives me a fresh supply of bodies with which to do my experiments. You were my seventy-fourth attempt at revival, and so far the only success. I won’t go into the extreme details, seeing as you probably wouldn’t understand them anyway.”
“I see, so you’re a necromancer…” William thought a moment. It made sense in a weird sort of way. Of course, this could be a hoax. But then again, there was no way everything that had happened was just a mad dream. His body was proof of that. He leaned back onto the wall and sighed in unison with the wood.
“You believe me?” Serena tilted her head. “You’re not going to question it at all?”
“I’m not a question kinda guy,” William looked at the rotting ceiling. “Plus, after tonight, I’d have to be an idiot to not believe you.” Serena stared at him, before bursting into laughter. William looked at her curiously, “You laugh a lot you know? I mean, I know I’m hilarious and all but still.”
“I’m sorry,” She stopped a moment to control her giggles, “You’re just a rather interesting person.” William smiled just a little bit. After she had completely calmed down, she continued, “I do laugh a lot, life is always brighter when you can laugh.” It was a cheesy line. William was going to comment on it, but he noticed Serena’s serious face. Suddenly her eyes grew heavy, and William felt an air of melancholy around her. Serena may have been a necromancer, but apparently she really did rely on laughter. Stony silence followed. William decided to break it.
“Very ironic coming from the person living in a dark as s*** apartment building.” William walked over and flicked her forehead, causing her to look up in surprise. Then she laughed. Turning away, she speedily began to pack away the cleaned tools. William unconciously grinned and reached to help. Eyeball jars, scalpels, and more needles than he wanted to think about went into designated areas. William nearly fell over when he found a whole preserved head in the mayonnaise jar body cabinet. Soon however, the deed was done. The gruesome repair station had been replaced by, well, a gruesome hut of necromancy. William sighed and carefully found a chair without skulls or bloodstains. “Well now that that’s all over with, care to explain this whole mess.” He gestured, pointing to his new self.
“What is there to explain?” Serena asked completely innocently. She really thought this was totally ordinary.
“Oh, I don’t know,” William shrugged exaggeratedly, “Maybe why you revived me?”
“Oh!” Serena clapped her hands, “No reason in particular, you just happened to be dead around the right time.” She said this so positively that despite himself, William could not manage anger.
“And why did you need a freshly dead corpse?”
“To practice.” Serena shrugged, “Revival is one of the harder arts of necromancy. It only works if the spirit hasn’t passed on yet, which is usually only a ten hour window. I’ve been trying to perform a successful revival for a while now, but you are the first success.”
“So, what do I do now?” William stared at her.
“What?” Serena didn’t seem to understand.
“I mean,” William said, leaning forward, “What do I do now that I’m alive, not dead, and know that you are a necromancer.”
“…”
“You really didn’t think this through did you?”
“Not really,” Serena sighed, “I was more interested in the progress here, not really what to do after. To be honest I didn’t even think it would succeed.”
“And what would’ve happened if you had failed?” William’s eyes widened.
“Oh don’t worry,” She shook her head, “You would’ve just passed on.”
“Passed on?” William felt that wasn’t as nice as it sounded.
“It just means you went to whatever’s after death.” She paused, “Officially, I mean. Like, beyond revival and once you stop haunting. Could be heaven, could be hell. No one really knows.” She smiled ominously, “After all, everyone who does know can’t really tell us.”
“Okaaaaay,” William inwardly sighed in relief. He hadn’t thought about passing on. And whether heaven or hell or something else came after that ghost state, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be going to the good one. “Moving on. What should I do now? Am I your man slave?”
“M-man slave.” Serena sputtered, bent over laughing. “Why would you think that?” She looked at him, laughter tears in her eyes. William scratched his head and looked away.
“I dunno, I mean, you revived me. If I leave I just get hunted down again.” He sighed. “Don’t really have a family to return to either.” Serena stared at him in the pressing silence. Then she handed him a twenty.
“Very well, man-slave,” She said, smiling, “Go buy some snacks and some drinks, we’ll have a post-revival party. Also, no diet soda. It’s disgusting.” William gave a small bow.
“Of course, mistress.” He said, in his very best evil henchmen voice. Her mirth rang out behind him as he walked out into the dark hallway.