From Corpse to Crown: Reborn as a Mortician in Another World-Chapter 12: An Uninvited Guest

He didn't respond and tried to remain calm, though his mind was screaming. Get out of there--she's going kill you!

There were three napkins left, all folded in the shape of a lotus. Lucian felt the barrier weaken, but it held. Without thinking, he held out his hand and thought about his Grimoire. The book appeared and the clasps looked like eyes, half-asleep.

When did you start changing? Lucian put his hand up and checked his current powers.

[MORTICIAN PROFILE]

User: Lucian Bowcott

Class: Apprentice Mortician

Rank: Cadaver

Powers Unlocked:

Death Balm (Lv. 1)

"She's a shadow, not a skeleton, so that won't be any help," Lucian mumbled. He was getting frustrated and this shadow was getting on his nerves. Well, scratch that.

Everything was getting on his nerves. He only had the taste of sweet blueberry scone and black tea in his stomach, and this woman wanted him to die.

Lucian hissed and his Grimoire twitched. "Sorry. Not you, just...I want to do something." He heard Lira moving around in the kitchen and the sound of silver being gathered. She's trying her best—I need to do the same.

The Grimoire reacted to his wish and flipped its pages faster than usual. Like a cat that had been languidly watching its master, waiting for this exact moment.

[STRESS THRESHOLD BREACHED]

New Ability Unlocked: Shadow Sever

Temporarily detach a hostile shadow entity from its host. Effectiveness increases when in a warded space or near an emotional anchor.

He didn't have time to question it because the voice drew nearer. With every creeping step, the hallway darkened further, twisting unnaturally. The shadow was consuming parts of the house. The closest shadow tendrils started to move and writhe, until it morphed into a hand.

A long, thin hand. It reminded Lucian of a strange pipe with hooks attached to it. More and more tendrils worked together to form these hands, and they clawed at the napkin barrier. While largely unsuccessful, Lucian noticed they were poking a lot of tiny holes in it.

Two lotus napkins burned steadily now, the glow faltering.

He was running out of time, but the panic was overriding the pendant's ability to keep his racing thoughts at bay. Slowly, the pendant's clear water grew a little cloudy, reflecting his current psyche.

What if I try it and it doesn't work because I don't have any magic? Am I just doomed to beg for help?

He was about to continue his mental spiral when his pendant rattled against his collarbone. It was white-hot, like someone had taken a boiling kettle and poured it on him. Lucian almost pulled the pendant off of him but realized—

Right. It's not going to last forever. Let's try.

He raised his right palm toward the mass of thin arms and willed it to work. It'd be so funny if a huge scalpel came out and just sliced these shadows... 

"Shadow Sever!"

The pendant against his chest was ice-cold for a moment, before the water drained to help cast his spell. Once the pendant was empty, for one heartbeat, Lucian saw her true form.

It was a massive black blob of grief and hunger barely holding its shape together. A long, slimy black thread pulsed between them, connecting spine to spine.

Lucian made a cutting motion and a dark scalpel sliced the spine.

Her scream hit like a wave of static—paralyzing, almost—but Lucian saw her recoil. The two dying wards flared back to life, reigniting the third and fourth. The barrier repaired and he could breathe again.

It was a pity the relief didn't last.

He knew this was his chance—and it was now or never. Lucian turned on his heel and lunged for the front door. If I brought it near Lucy, maybe she could overpower it...

But it was locked.

Behind him, something walked downstairs. Not with footsteps. More like someone was dragging a curtain soaked in blood and perfume down the steps.

Lucian knew she was right behind him when he couldn't ignore the strong smell of honey mixed with vinegar.

"You opened the door for me, you know," the voice said. "You wanted someone to answer your little questions. That's all I needed."

No. The last time I tried to talk to the dead was a decade ago. Lucian looked fearful. "I haven't tried anything like that since I was thirteen."

"Young, soft, and eager to ask me where you go when you die," she said, her voice distorting on the second half of her sentence. "So tender."

He turned around slowly, before she could force him.

And saw her.

Not as a gentle woman with a hat.

She wasn't even made of shadow.

It was determined to present as beyond comprehension. This thing wore the shape of a woman two sizes too small. Its eyes were slightly too far apart and when it smiled...it was like it packed as many teeth as it could in its mouth.

Then it started changing, slowly settling on a new face. Familiar faces that made his stomach twist. The thing settled on a cute girl with a ponytail. One of his childhood crushes.

"You always wanted to be seen, didn't you?" it whispered, head tilting inhumanly to one side. "It's why you kept talking to me." Drool began to erupt from its mouth, and it looked like sticky black bile.

"And no, Lucian Bowcott," it said, smiling like a fool. "I'm going to add you to my pile when you die."

He stumbled back and his hand brushed against the pendant—

—and the house inhaled.

"Lira, now!"

A door slammed open, wind howled through the corridor, and a sleek silver butter knife flew through the air. It lodged itself cleanly into the entity's forehead and it took a step back. The thing growled at them both like an offended dog.

Lira, the devoted maid, said coldly, "That is a nasty attachment you've got there, Lord Lucian."

It lunged toward Lira and she threw a silver tray at it, cutting through the thick sour air. The shadows pulled back like water down a drain and the tray clanged as it hit the wall.

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It snarled and flickered, but grew substantially smaller.

Lira walked between them and set another napkin on the floor, like she was setting a trap. This one was folded like an envelope and was embroidered with red string.

"Do forgive me, Lord Lucian," she said softly, arms steady. Lucian almost forgot she was a corpse.

"But I need your help to expel this...uninvited guest."