Adam

“She’s been chosen. We don’t have a choice.” The man’s booming voice scared the woman at his side.

“Poppy is too young. What you wish for is unfair to her. We must answer our calling after adulthood, not during our youth,” the woman finally found the courage to argue back. Never before would she have considered doing something so outrageous.

“All of us didn’t have to deal with our extinction. The decision has been made and Poppy has been chosen. Live with it.”

“It is unfair. Poppy will be forever immortalized in a young woman’s body. She won’t be able to change. Her emotions will be fueled by her age. Please, I beg you to hold off on this transition.” The woman spoke with desperation.

“No, we go through with this now.”

“You will sacrifice our daughter this easily?”

“It’s for the good of our kind and the future of our species.”

“This is madness.”

The man dropped his head and stared down amongst the few remaining full-blooded necromancers. For centuries, their kind had been slain. Their numbers lessened with every passing year. Their power weakened with every generation born. Breeding with humans and other creatures of the paranormal world had left them unstable and their immortality void.

“Poppy is the only female who can carry on.” He sounded convinced and so sure of his path, no way could he see failure in his plan to force on the transition of a necromancer.

“She deserves more than this. What you ask for is a lifetime of pain and misery. She hasn’t even been with a man. I know you don’t wish to hear these things, but she deserves to be given the chance to love.”

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

With his final words ringing in the air, the man and woman went in search of their daughter.

Poppy lay in a heap on the floor surrounded by human children. Her blue eyes sparkled while her pale skin held the subtle glow of happiness, which few of their number enjoyed. Necromancers were not well known for their good moods.

The laughter died on her lips as soon as she saw her parents.

“Mother. Father. Welcome.” Poppy bowed her head and the shivers began in her body. She knew in her heart trouble was coming.

“Follow me,” her father ordered. In their world no one argued with an elder. If you argued, it would be seen as a sign of disrespect. There would be severe punishment for anyone who dared to do so. Nodding her consent, she turned to the nurse—an elder necromancer and a kind woman—and waved goodbye before leaving the children.

She walked the short distance—her black gown flowing round her ankles with each step—following behind her parents. The long sleeves did nothing to stop the chill seeping into her bones. Her mother smiled at her one final time before she entered the room. A cold slab of stone lay in the centre of the large room. The stone was surrounded by twelve men, each covered in a thick black robe.

Poppy couldn’t stop the rapid beating of her heart even as she stopped behind her father. She was a small female. Poppy didn’t even reach his shoulders.

“It is time, Rory. We must end this before the cycle is complete.” Poppy gazed down to see her mother holding her hand. The strength in the touch did nothing to calm her nerves.

“What is happening, Mother?” she asked.

“Silence!” A raging sound filled the air. “The time to act is now.” Voices filled her head. Each voice hissing through her mind, words of fear and rage. All of their emotions were bombarding her at once. “It is time,” whispered across her temple.