It was a clear night; two persons were arguing inside an old mansion.

“Can you do it or not?”

“I can do it, It’s just that… I wasn’t prepared for that. Are you sure your father was human?”

“He was an asshole of the highest order, but yeah, he was.”

“An asshole uh? Well, he’s pitch-black like a hole and he smells like trouble, but that where the comparison stops… I mean, even the devil wouldn’t want to touch that soul!”

“Do it, I need that gold!”

“So, do I. I didn’t came thinking I was going to deal with an evil spirit. I don’t have all the right tools here but I’m going to a containment ward, and a curse net.”

“I won’t give you any extra.”

“I didn’t expect any, do you mind if I take those candles? And do you have something silver? It doesn’t matter what it is, even silverware is fine as long as you don’t mind losing it.”

“The candleholders are made of silver, I think.”

“Are they? It looks like steel to me. Go see if you can find something else while I draw the protective circle.” On those word, the man got on his knee to draw. His hands were unnaturally sure, drawing circles and complex shape without the help of instruments.

When his work was done, there were two circles containing and connected by esoteric runes and eldritch looking drawing.

The proprietor(?) came back, his hand full of plates, forks and knives. “Will that be enough?”

“Will do. Give me a fork, that should be enough.”

The man holding the silverware put everything on the table, took a single fork and handed it to the other man who simply stabbed it into the floor, right in the middle of the smaller circle.

“Just to be sure, hand me some hair, I only need a few, but they must be fresh.”

The proprietor(?) did as asked and the follicles ended inside a small clay doll right next the fork.

“Did you know your father well?”

“Not at all, I ran when I was fifteen and my mother left the house soon after. As I said, the man was an asshole and everybody hated him. Rightly so!”

“Oh, I believe you, I’m just surprised there aren’t more ghosts around. From the state of his soul, I expected the place to be filled with the spirit of hits victims. Alright, everything is ready, get away from the circle will you.” The man did as ordered but visibly it wasn’t enough. “Further… even further.”

The second man, already almost against the wall asked angrily. “Is that enough? Or do you want me to exit the house?”

“That’ll have to do.” Upon saying this, he chanted a long eldritch payer, each word spookier than the last. .”lleh ot thgiarts uoy dnes ll'I ro etunim siht nwod thgir ereh ssa ruoy teg ,yad lla evah t'nod I ,emit ym gnitsaw pots ,tirips nmad yeH.”

Something stirred in the lager circle, a dark shape, almost humanoid yet not, something about it was clearly out of this world, and not simply because it was almost transparent. In the smaller circle, the doll broke in tiny pieces, scattering them all over. The fork became red hot before blackening.

“Where did you hide the gold?”

“"ecalperif eht dniheb llaw eslaf a si erehT.”

“How do I access it?”

"nepo lliw ti dna ,thgir mottob eht morf kcirb dnoces eht hsuP."

The necromancer didn’t feel at ease, things were proceeding far too easily for this kind of spirit. He had expected to have to menace it and bend it to his will, but it was answering all his question without a fuss.

Leaving this thing here would certainly cause problem in the future, be he hadn’t been paid for an exorcism, still… “Do you have any question for your father? I’d like to banish it from this world.”

“Please do, I don’t want to stand in the same room as that bastard any longer than necessary.”

“Are you sure?

“Certain!”

“I still have doubt though…” The necromancer turned back to the spirit to ask. “Is the gold behind the chimney all of it?”

"siht no em tsurt ,ti fo lla si sihT."

“.efil retfa eht ni ecaep dnif uoy yam ,luos desruC! .uoy hsinab I ,dnob yldlrow ruoy reves I ,uoy etarebil I”

The ghostly silhouette became more and more transparent before disappearing with a cackle. The Necromancer couldn’t help but feel it had been all to easy, and that last cackle was particularly eerie.

“It behind the fireplace, you must push the second brick from the bottom right to open.”

The heir ran to the fireplace, crawling inside to push on the brick but just as he was about to do it, the necromancer suddenly grabbed him the ankle to drag him out. The dragged man grabbed a poker to defend himself, but the sorcerer jumped back. “Wait, I mean no harm. Use the poker to push the brick!”

“Why?” He had never cared much for the black arts. This time, he had needed the necromancer’s help but that didn’t mean he trusted him in the slightest outside of their deal.

“Just humor me. It’s fine if I’m wrong but that was far too easy, that kind of spirit shouldn’t be this helpful, there has to be a trap.”

It did make sense; the man was an awful bastard who tortured him and his mother and from what he had heard, he’d become even worse after their departure. He pushed against the brick with the iron. There was a click as and two seconds later something heavy came crashing down inside the fireplace, splitting the stone floor.

The heir gasped. “That could have been my back.” He pulled the secret door open using the iron, wary of more trap, then recovered dozens upon dozens of small gold coins. It wasn’t as much as he had expected but between this and the manor, he’d be able to buy himself a nice shop away from this cursed place. “You’ve saved my life.”

“It wouldn’t do well if my client died on me. I mean, I’d have to listen to your complaints afterward.” Then necromancer put a glove, crouched to pick up the black silver fork then dropped in a small multi layered box in his bag. He’d have to dispel the curse later, then melt it. The heir didn’t speak a word, he didn’t want anything to do with the cursed thing.

“My part of the contract has been completed. I’ll be going, please do respect yours.”

“I will. I don’t think we’ll see each other again but thank you.”

Five days later, as he walked down the road to the next city, the necromancer felt a movement in his bag. Upon looking inside, found that his latest contract had turned to dust. ‘He tried to sell me out?’ Seems like being a bastard ran in the family.

He took from his bag a small grey wooden doll, barely the size of a thumb, and set it against the ash that soon disappeared into the figure, as though they had been sucked up. The sorcerer picked up the now turned red puppet and placed it delicately in a small container full or similar red figurine with a sigh.

‘Why can’t people respect their contract? I have more than enough familiars.”