Page 21 of The Flesh Remembers
“No!” Eleanor cried, voice raw. She clutched his shoulders, tears spilling over. Around her, the staff stood in uneasy silence, Dr. Fairfax’s expression tight with pity, Nurse Collins blinking back tears of her own. Blackwood exhaled, turning on Frye with a venomous glare.
“You robbed us of the final push,” he spat.
Frye’s features remained defiant, his breath coming fast, his eyes wide and glaring.
Overcome by grief and adrenaline, Eleanor sank to her knees beside the dais. She pressed her face to James’s cold chest, willing him to respond, to open his eyes again. But no flicker remained; the necromantic spark had fled.
Excerpt from the diary of Dr. Eleanor Ashcroft
James spoke my name. I still can’t fathom how it’s possible, but I heard it, rough, broken, and twisted beyond recognition. Yet it was he. His voice. His life, fragile and fleeting, clawing its way back for just one breath. And then it was gone, snatched away again, as quickly as it came.
To witness him die a second time; to watch the light drain from his eyes once more, it felt like a knife to my soul. Frye’s words filled the room, his claims that this process is corrupting us all, but they mean nothing to me now. After seeing James awaken, after hearing him say my name, corruption no longer matters. It’s a hollow concept, insignificant in the face of bringing him back. I would endure ruin, chaos, and even damnation if it meant having James here again.
Fairfax promises we’ll try again, and I can barely contain the storm inside me. Hope battles dread, tearing at me with claws. What if it fails? What if that single fleeting moment was all I’ll ever have? The thought of losing him forever after glimpsing his return it’s unbearable. But worse still is the other fear. What if it works? What would that mean for him, for us? James wouldn’t be the same, and neither would I. And yet, even knowing that, I can’t stop. I won’t stop. Because if there’s even a sliver of a chance to bring him back, I must seize it.
A Sacrifice of Body, Blood, and Dignity
Eleanor stood outside the door to the ceremony chamber. She had a vague idea of what would happen on the other side of the door, and she hesitated. Could she abandon everything she had ever believed in, the morals and decorum of regular society, just for the slight chance of cheating death? She thought of James then, sweet, loving James, who made her laugh and ignited her passion. Her best friend and her only lover. Yes, she thought, she could do all that and more. Pushing open the doors, she stepped into the chamber.
The room breathed with power, as if its walls thrummed with an ancient awareness. The air was laden with incense, swirling in intoxicating waves, yet beneath it lingered something far darker, metallic, and electric essence thatseemed to crackle just out of reach. Shadows writhed on the walls, alive and unsettling, born of countless candle flames that danced with unnatural vigour. The light and dark shifted together, an interplay that felt less random and more deliberate, as though the room itself observed, whispered, and waited.
Blackwood had given Eleanor a summary of the special ritual to happen tonight, and even the mere description of the events brought a scarlet stain to her cheeks. Could she do this, witness this? Could she walk deeper into this forest of perverse science and mystical rituals?
“Surely such things are not necessary,” Eleanor had croaked out after Blackwood had explained the ceremony. She touched her flaming cheek and noticed Blackwood’s amused smile as he watched her. There was a hunger in his eyes, as if he enjoyed watching her fall further and further away from the light.
“Of course it’s necessary, Eleanor," Blackwood said, his voice as smooth as the shadows enveloping them. "True resurrection demands both science and magic. Each alone is incomplete, missing the spark, the balance, the brilliance required to triumph over death itself." His gaze lingered on Eleanor, sharp and unyielding. "Fairfax and I were wandering in darkness on our own. But when I discovered his experiments, his ingenious use of electricity, I realized he was the missing piece. The one man who could help me reshape the very fabric of life."
Blackwood paused, a faint smile playing at his lips, as if savouring the weight of his words: "Together, we crafted something extraordinary, a perfect atmosphere for the process to flourish—a symphony of power, precision, and ambition."
Blackwood seemed almost giddy, a look close to mania lighting his eyes. This frightened Eleanor but also sparkedthat hope again that this would work and James would be fully restored. After all, for something like this to succeed, it would require a sort of mania, and both Fairfax and Blackwood seemed to take their parts into obsession.
Now, at the chamber's door, Eleanor sucked in her breath and held her head high as Blackwood opened the oak door and ushered her inside. The participants were already in motion; their bodies entwined in acts of ritualistic ecstasy. Gasps and moans filled the space, blending with the low hum of chanting.
Eleanor watched wide-eyed as two robed figures pushed another to their knees. They pulled the hood of the robe back to reveal a pale woman with strawberry blonde curls. As Eleanor watched, the two other figures began to draw the robe from the rest of her body. Surprisingly, the woman was completely nude beneath the robe, which Eleanor suspected most of the participants were.
The other figures quickly shed their robes revealing two men, their cocks hard and at attention as they positioned themselves on either side of the woman. Eleanor blushed at the sight of the naked men. She had never seen a man unclothed besides James, and she felt terrible guilt over the tingling arousal she began to feel between her legs. She should not desire any man but James, and yet here, in this dreadful place, her desires had consumed her unnaturally and terrifyingly. Eleanor feared she would not be able to contain herself.
Lord Blackwood stood at the centre of it all, his presence commanding, his dark eyes locking onto Eleanor’s as she entered.
“Tonight, we will call him back. But only if you’re prepared to give more than you ever imagined.” Blackwood all but growled at her as he motioned for her to stand beside him.
“I-I… I’m ready,” Eleanor replied slowly, trying desperately to steady her voice.
“Are you?” he asked, stepping closer. His fingers brushed her chin, tilting her head up. “You’ve sacrificed your body, your blood, even your dignity. But tonight’s ritual demands a different kind of offering that will stain your soul.”
Her stomach twisted, but she nodded. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“First, our members will continue with the initiatory. Each ritual we do begins this way. It heightens the hunger and lust that is needed for our work.”
“What work is that?” Eleanor asked incredulously, her eyes wide. She had to put up with these strange, unnatural rituals for now because they were a means to an end. But that did not mean she felt good about it or believed that this group was a part of anything good or right.
“Our rituals call upon ancient magics, using dark arts to satisfy our desires. We can procure wealth, power, and status. Anything you like, my dear Dr. Ashcroft.” Blackwood smiled at her in such a way that Eleanor felt as though ice water flowed through her veins.
“Come,” he said, taking her elbow and guiding her to a small sofa in the corner. “Sit here and watch the proceedings. I think you will find it helpful for what will come next.” He smirked at her as he sat beside her on the sofa, his hungry eyes glued to her.
Eleanor felt the heat whip across her cheeks, a scorching wind burning with the sting of vulnerability. She could not help it, though she did not like to give Blackwood the satisfaction of any reaction. Her eyes widened as she found the trio she had spotted earlier.
The woman with the lovely strawberry blonde hair was now on her hands and knees, moaning wantonly as she begged the two men for release. One man grabbed a handful of that shining hair and yanked her head back forcefully. “Do you want to be fucked?” He hissed at her. The woman moaned loudly, crying out, “Yes, yes, please!”
