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Chapter 11 - Conjuring the dead

The sudden wave of memories and mixed emotion made it nearly impossible for Celest to disguise where she is along the corridor. Worry and fear plague her mind as she tries to make it down the long corridor without being seen. Although it's a much easier walk than most there are still small patches of emptiness that outline a few places. After several minutes Celest comes to a pad locked door and reaches her slender fingers into the hood of her cape to retrieve an old skeleton key. She glances back down the corridor and halts, hoping what she sees before her is an illusion; an old man with crystal blue eyes is staring at her, and he's wearing oversized black jeans, a plain black shirt, and polished black boots that would've perfectly fit her second hand. Celest shakes her head and the old man fades, in his place is her second hand, who is in fact staring at her with dull unblinking black eyes. She tries to give a small smile but it feels strange so she simply nods at his presence and turns to open the door.

Lazarus knew that things were changing. He had been in service to Celest, for a little more than what the old world would've called, eighty years. He could feel from the moment he'd ran into Mae that things were rapidly changing. He'd already watched her leave when he felt the cold sensation of being watched. He followed his heightened instinct toward the edge of the nearest corridor and trailed his gaze down until he saw her, Celest, she was standing a good several paces away, directly in front of a familiar door. If his suspicions were correct, she'd finally realized the position she was actually in, and if he knew her as well as history, she would use everything at her disposal to keep the vain power she held over humans. The hatred she had for them was created by an accident that wasn't even her fault. She had no idea back then what those teenage campers would do. Yet she used the pain and the anger she still held to cause similar pain among the humans. Lazarus watched his maker slowly turn back toward the door and use the skeleton key to open it. He shook his head as a strange feeling grew that history was about to repeat itself.

A deep sigh passed his cold lips as he turned and headed toward the door. He already knew that nothing good was going to come from any of this. As his polished boot slipped past the threshold, Lazarus, felt the strange feeling grow stronger but he didn't turn around. Instead blinding white light met darked blue eyes as he headed to find the one creature who might be able to talk some sense into Celest.