Dragon Fire: Episode 84

When they neared the edge of the next rooftop, Razham slipped past Lady Elizabeth and bent down. Her hand on the bow, Lady Elizabeth scanned the area while a quivering Gonorap clung to Razham. Up ahead they saw a great fire, its flames reaching heavenward, as soulless worshippers danced at its edges, bowing and chanting before it.

“They worship this fire?” Lady Elizabeth wondered aloud.

“In his weakness, man will worship any god that asks nothing of him,” Razham replied.

Her eyes searching through the droves of followers, Lady Elizabeth furrowed her brow and asked,

“Where is he?”

“The archer?” Razham asked. “He is called Vanamir.”

“Yes. I do not see him,” Lady Elizabeth said.

“He will show himself, but we may have to draw him out,” Razham explained.

Lady Elizabeth reached back and pulled a cloth from her quiver.

As she gathered her hair into it, she said, “Then let us drawn him out.”

Pulling back on an arrow, she released and let it fly. The arrow soared through the air and struck one of the worshippers, pinning his head to the ground. Instantly the other followers stopped and grew quiet. Turning toward the rooftop, they began to shriek in an unearthly chorus.

At that, Lady Elizabeth dropped from the rooftop and began slaughtering the worshippers as fast as her weapon would allow.

“Stay here, little one. I must go to help her,” Razham said.

Razham dropped to the ground and scooped a handful of soil. Lifting it to his mouth, he began to mutter mysterious words while he walked away from the building to the middle of the road.

As some of the worshippers poured out into the road, Razham slowly opened his hand, letting the wind stir the soil and lift it into the air in a spinning circle over his palm. Suddenly the worshippers halted their charge and stood perfectly still. In the road behind Razham appeared the faint image of a great bear, its majestic muscles rolling in waves. As the worshippers stared in terror, the towering bear slowly took form and charged toward Razham. Moments before the bear reached him, Razham released the soil and began to fade out of sight. When the bear passed through Razham’s vanishing form, the creature became solid and attacked the stunned group of worshippers. While Lady Elizabeth fired at the followers emptying her quiver, the powerful bear roared and destroyed each worshipper with one swipe of its paw.

On the rooftop, Gonorap watched Razham and Lady Elizabeth, determining in his heart to be brave despite his fear. Clutching the small dagger Lady Elizabeth had given him, he commanded himself to climb down to the ground and join his comrades in the fight.

Her quiver empty, Lady Elizabeth drew her sword from its sheath and sliced her way through the mindless mass as they came at her. It seemed that for every one she brought down, dozens more poured out from the buildings.

Gonorap crept closer toward the battle, hiding behind fallen bodies and anything that would keep him hidden as he looked for a way to help in the fight.

Suddenly he saw the shadowy man with the black oil encircling his frame. Gonorap was puzzled by the change in him for he looked more human than before, enabling him to move closer to Lady Elizabeth without her notice.

When Gonorap tried to call out a warning, he found that his voice caught in his throat. He was too frightened to speak, too afraid to draw attention to himself, even if it meant saving Lady Elizabeth.

 

*          *          *

 

Lady Elizabeth felt a presence behind her, but before she could turn, someone had torn the cloth from her head, seized her hair, and pressed the blade of a knife to her throat. She shuddered when she heard a voice like a file across metal,

“Drop the sword.”

“Vanamir!” she thought.

When she hesitated, Vanamir pressed harder against the blade, cutting the skin and sending blood trickling down her neck.

“Now!” he demanded.

With no other choice, she dropped her sword near her foot.

“HALT!” Vanamir commanded.

The worshippers immediately obeyed.

Speaking to Razham, he said,

“The power you possess is truly amazing, but I cannot be stopped, not by you, not by anyone. Yield or I will open her throat.”

When the bear stood on its hind legs and let out a roar, Vanamir shouted,

“NOW!”

The bear froze then turned as all its color drained away and it broke into a thousand dead leaves that blew away in the wind. Standing in its place was Razham bracing himself on his staff, his strength spent.

“Weary are you?” Vanamir asked. “Excellent! That will make everything easier.”

Lady Elizabeth focused, waiting for a chance to free herself.

“Throw yourself into the fire or I will kill her,” Vanamir threatened.

“You will kill her if I do,” Razham returned.

“Perhaps,” Vanamir said. “But if you refuse me, she will die this day.”

Razham slowly removed himself from the support of the staff then threw it aside.

“No!” Lady Elizabeth pleaded. “Not for me!”

“Quiet!” Vanamir snapped. “I prefer that my future bride be alive, not back from the dead, but I will have you either way.”

Razham spotted movement behind Vanamir and slipped his hand into his pocket.

“You will not move again unless it is into the fire,” Vanamir ordered.

With the loud cry, “I am going to die!” Gonorap leapt at Vanamir, plunging the dagger’s blade deep into his calf.

Just as Vanamir howled in pain and kicked away Gonorap, Lady Elizabeth quickly reached down and snatched up her sword.

But before her blade could find its target, Vanamir had once again seized her and pressed the blade of the knife to her throat.

“Not so fast, my sweet,” Vanamir hissed.

Razham slowly withdrew his hand from his pocket.

“Stop fighting!” Vanamir shouted at Lady Elizabeth.

“Never!” Lady Elizabeth returned.

Raising her sword, she ran the blade through her stomach, impaling Vanamir.

As he gasped for air, Vanamir pushed her away and staggered back on shaking legs.

Razham raised his hand and tossed a small object at Vanamir as a dying Lady Elizabeth crawled away.

Vanamir stepped back when a small acorn landed on the ground before him. He looked up at Razham and smiled.

“You missed.”

“Did you really think you could end my life with a small acorn?” he laughed, stomping it into the earth.

“Navhena does not take life,” Razham said. “She gives it.”

When Vanamir felt the ground beneath him begin to stir, he looked down to see green vines rising up where the acorn had landed.

As the vines tightly wound around Vanamir’s legs, Razham said,

“Her vines will hold you. Her roots will feed you. Her bark will protect you, and her sap will bring life back to this dead soil.”

Vanamir’s struggle proved useless for the vines continued to break through the soil and wrap themselves around him. At last he grew still, and in his place stood a giant tree, its branches sending forth an abundance of blue starflowers. The vines spread from the tree’s base, encircling each of Vanamir’s followers and pulling them underground with a small sapling springing from the earth in their place.

With a woeful heart, Razham walked over to Lady Elizabeth and bent down. When he found that the life had gone out of her, he closed his eyes and said,

“May your soul at last find peace.”

When he stood, vines began to wrap themselves around Lady Elizabeth’s body, but Razham pulled them free and gently lifted her body up over his shoulder. He walked past the tree that now held Vanamir and bent down to pick up Gonorap. The brave little creature was unconscious but alive.

“Fear not, little one. You are safe now. Navhena will protect you and welcome you home,” he comforted.

Tucking Gonorap comfortably into his satchel, Razham retrieved his staff and moved on.

Published in: on April 18, 2017 at 3:29 pm  Leave a Comment  
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The Prophet of Starfall: Episode 16

As Nathan inched his way toward John Stafford, his boots clicked on the metal walkway suspended above rows of large tanks containing hazardous waste marked for disposal. His back turned toward Nathan, Stafford and his hostage Charlene Reynolds were cornered at the other end of the walkway with nowhere to go. Nathan took a deep breath and slowly let it out as he cautiously drew closer.

With hands raised, Nathan called, “Stafford?”

“Stop struggling!” Stafford yelled at Reynolds. “I’m trying to find a way out and you’re not helping!”

“John?” Nathan tried again.

Suddenly Stafford spun around, turning his pistol onto Nathan.

“Stay back!” he shouted.

“I just want to talk,” Nathan explained.

“Don’t come any closer or I’ll shoot,” Stafford threatened.

“John, listen to me,” Nathan said, keeping his hands raised. “I know you’re nervous. I know you’re scared.”

“You don’t know anything!” Stafford yelled.

“I know exactly what you’re going through. Graduated third in your class. When you were hired by Thymatec, the largest pharmaceutical company in Crescent Bay, you felt you had accomplished your dream. You had the job you wanted, and now you could go ahead and propose to your girlfriend. You finally had something to offer her, a solid future,” Nathan said.

Stafford’s hand dropped a little and his eyes took on a faraway look.

“Joanne was the prettiest girl you’d ever seen, wasn’t she? Athletic, charming. No wonder everyone loved her. Yet for some crazy reason, she only had eyes for you.”

Nathan smiled in sympathy.

“She said yes before you could even get the question out.”

Stafford laughed softly, a tear breaking free and rolling down his cheek.

“The wedding would have been the most amazing moment in your life, and a future full of possibilities lay ahead,” Nathan said.

After a pause, he continued.

“That was until she got sick. No one could have predicted how fast it would spread. Before Joanne could plan her perfect wedding, you had to plan her funeral. It was the worst time in your life. You were heartbroken, defeated, vulnerable. That’s when he approached you.”

Nathan waited to let the words sink in.

“The doctor,” Nathan said.

 

*          *          *

 

Elisabeth took several quick breaths then focused on slowing her breathing. When a bullet ricocheted off a railing and struck the tank just above her head, she moved out from her cover and fired two shots at Horton and Morton then she tumbled forward and rolled back to her feet to face them.

Morton lifted a forklift over his head and said,

“Catch this, little bird.”

Elisabeth quickly holstered her weapons and caught the forklift, her feet scraping against the concrete floor as she strained to hold on to it.

Bracing her knees, she threw it back. With his rifle aimed toward Elisabeth, Horton slid under the forklift.

Elisabeth dove at Horton and grabbed the riflescope. Then she twisted the weapon with enough strength to throw him into a wall, forcing him to drop the weapon.

As she turned toward Morton, she saw his enormous fist coming right at her.

 

*          *          *

 

Stafford’s gaze shot back to Nathan, and his arm stiffened as he raised the gun.

“He promised he could help. All you had to do was make some arrangements, see that a few people were hired. Nothing serious. Just one man trying to make a difference. You believed what he said, what he wanted. It wasn’t until you were in too deep that you realized you had sold your soul to a monster.”

Nathan kept slowly moving forward.

Stafford lifted a shaking hand to his forehead, wiping away the sweat. When Nathan took a step closer, Stafford fired a wild shot just missing Nathan.

“I. . .said. . .stay. . .back!” Stafford shouted, emphasizing each word.

Nathan took a quick step back, keeping his hands raised.

“Just because you think you know me doesn’t mean you understand!” Stafford yelled.

Nathan held his breath for a moment then said,

“I made the same mistake.”

“When my parents died, I was barely out of high school. Lost and drifting, I almost drove my life into the ditch. But then I met a man who saved me. He straightened me out, taught me how to cope with loss, and even got me my first real job. He was a surrogate father to me, my mentor. I looked up to him until the day I realized he was using me. The only reason he helped me get the job was so that he could steal a diamond exchange. I was so buried in trouble I couldn’t see a way out that wouldn’t land me in jail. Somehow I found the courage to turn against him and call the cops. The judge gave me probation while he was sent to prison.”

“That’s not the same thing!” Stafford yelled. “He made promises.”

“Joanne. I know. He promised he could bring her back. But, John, think about the clones that work for him. Anyone he brought back would be just as dedicated to him as they are. She would look like Joanne, but she wouldn’t be Joanne,” Nathan explained.

 

*          *          *

 

When Morton’s fist made contact, Elisabeth dropped the rifle. She felt one of her teeth crack as she slammed into the wall, sending pain racing up her back.

As he struggled to stand on shaky legs, Horton looked up and saw Nathan on the walkway with Stafford.

“It’s the prophet!” Horton yelled.

“Shoot him! I’ll finish off the little bird,” Morton yelled back.

Horton ran for his rifle as Elisabeth slowly stood up and pushed off the wall.

“Oh no you don’t!” Morton yelled, coming at her.

Elisabeth knew she couldn’t reach Horton in time to keep him from shooting Nathan, so she had to stop him some other way. But before she could pull out her pistol, Morton was on her. He grabbed her hands and squeezed until she cried out in pain.

“No more running, little bird,” Morton insisted.

As Morton held her, Horton lined up his rifle on the back of Nathan’s head.

“Some prophet,” he sneered. “You don’t know anything.”

 

*          *          *

 

Knowing that Elisabeth was fighting for her life beneath the walkway made it hard for Nathan to stay focused on Stafford. Appealing to him seemed to be working, but then suddenly everything clicked in Nathan’s mind and he saw what was coming. He had only seconds to act.

“John, I need you to trust me. I can promise you safe passage out of here if you will just lower your weapon and lie down on the floor right now,” Nathan said.

Stafford seemed to consider the idea for a moment but then scoffed,

“You can’t promise anything! You’re not the police! You’re not a hero!”

“Please, John,” Nathan pleaded.

“Back off!” Stafford yelled as he pushed Reynolds away.

Everything seemed to happen all at once.

Horton aimed at the back of Nathan’s head and fired a shot. . .Stafford raised his pistol to shoot Nathan. . .Nathan leaned back, pulled out The General, and fired off a round.

Horton’s bullet missed Nathan and struck Stafford in the head as the bullet from Nathan’s weapon sliced through the air, brighter than an evening firefly, and lodged in Horton’s chest.

As Horton fell dead to the loading area floor, the counter on Nathan’s colt clicked up to 2.

 

*          *          *

 

When Morton saw Horton fall, his face filled with surprise and fear.

“Joseph?” he called.

Turning back to Elisabeth, Morton snarled,

“He killed Joseph!”

As Morton’s grip tightened on Elisabeth, she pulled back her hands, forcing him to tumble off balance towards her. Pushing her head forward, she struck his jaw with her forehead and heard a satisfying crack. Morton quickly released her hands and held his broken jaw.

Grabbing his shirt, Elisabeth lifted Morton into the air and snapped,

“He’s the prophet!”

She twisted her hips, spinning Morton a full 360 degrees, then threw him into a concrete wall with enough force to crack it.

Looking up at Nathan, she saw that he was watching her. She sighed with relief and waved. Nathan smiled back and returned the gesture.

Published in: on April 18, 2017 at 3:27 pm  Leave a Comment  
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The Cadillac Diaries: Episode 84

It was early morning as Ray drove the Cadillac down a twisting gravel road. Rory had made himself comfortable in the passenger seat, and Pete was settled down beside Ray. In the back, Roddy pressed his nose against the glass of the lowered window, enjoying the wind on his face.

“What brings us all the way out here?” Rory asked.

“I don’t know yet,” Ray replied. “I got a call from Richard this morning telling me to drive out here as soon as possible.”

“Think it’s the clown?” Rory asked.

“Probably,” Ray answered.

After rounding a few more curves, throwing up dust and gravel, Ray spotted several police cars, a crime scene van, and the city coroner up ahead.

“I hope Calvin Nash is here. I have a few choice questions for him,” Ray said.

“The coroner? I thought you knew, Ray,” Rory said.

“Knew what?” Ray asked.

“Nash is dead. Found in one of the body drawers in the morgue with two bullets in him and a black pawn clasped in his hands,” Rory explained.

Ray sighed deeply. Nash had been up to his eyeballs in the cover-up of Bonkers’ murdered family. When Ray found out about it a few months ago, he figured Bonkers might come after Nash. He should have done something, said something. But at the time, he had been focused on other things. How many more people would die because of Captain Bonkers?

“This is getting out of hand!” Ray snapped.

“Getting?” Rory disagreed. “This was out of hand the moment Bonkers hung a body out a window.”

Pulling alongside Richard’s car, Ray shut off the engine and climbed out.

Richard spotted them and headed their way just as Pete hopped out of the car and sniffed the air. Suddenly he barked twice and started running.

“Pete, no!” Richard yelled, running after him.

When he got close enough, Richard scooped him up and carried him back to Ray.

“Hold him, Ray,” Richard said, handing over Pete. “Normally, his antics are amusing, but I know what he’s after and I can’t let him loose. This is a crime scene.”

“What’s going on?” Rory asked.

“Evelyn Caine is dead. Her remains were found this morning by a farmer who owns this property. He was out checking the fence when he found her.”

“How bad is it?” Ray asked.

“The coroner’s not finished yet but looks like she was shot twice, once with an arrow, then torn apart by dogs. Animal control’s still searching the property. So far, they’ve rounded up six of them.”

“Man!” Rory responded. “That is a deep level of hatred.”

“Looks like someone, I’d guess Bonkers, backed up a moving van, got Caine out, then make her record something before she died.”

“May I hear it?” Ray asked.

Richard pulled out the recorder, pressed the play button through the plastic evidence bag, and the three listened closely to Evelyn Caine’s words.

When the recording stopped, Ray asserted,

“He’s headed for King. There’s no one else left.”

“Are you certain about that?” Clive Morgan asked as he walked over.

“Positive,” Ray answered.

“Then let’s move!” directed Morgan.

 

*          *          *

 

Forty-five minutes later, they waited outside Bradford King’s office building. Police officers filled the parking lot as the SWAT moved forward, waiting for Clive Morgan’s orders. His brow furrowed, Ray looked at Richard and asked,

“Will King even let you in? He probably has his guards on high alert.”

“No doubt this place is like a fortress. Rumor has it his guards have orders to shoot anyone who doesn’t work here,” Rory added.

“That’s why I stopped and got a warrant on the way over,” Richard explained. “If King is guilty of everything he’s accused of, the last thing I want is for him to get off on a technicality.”

“Got it,” Ray said, slowly standing up.

“Not happening, Ray. You’re staying right here,” Richard ordered.

“What?” Ray objected.

“Sorry. I’m not just keeping a promise to Deborah. I can’t guarantee your safety inside. Stay here or I’ll have to arrest you,” Richard warned.

When Ray started to protest, Rory clapped a hand on his shoulder and said,

“We’ll stay here.”

Looking from one man to the other for confirmation, Richard finally said,

“Thank you.”

As Richard headed over to Morgan, Ray complained,

“I can’t believe you volunteered us to sit it out.”

“I didn’t. Come on. Let’s get inside,” Rory said.

“How do you propose to do that? Richard was our only way in,” Ray asked.

“I have a man inside,” Rory smiled. “Follow me.”

Rory lead Ray around to the side of the building then knocked on the first door.

“Who do you have on the inside?” Ray asked.

Just then the door opened and Tommy poked his head out.

“I really don’t think this is a good idea, mate,” he asserted.

“Well you picked out that shirt, so clearly you have a poor sense of judgment,” Rory said, pulling the door open.

“Sod!” Tommy spat as Rory slipped past him.

A few feet into the room, Ray saw a long hallway filled with boxes and double doors at each end. He stopped when he spotted Tyler Clay.

“Hello, Ray,” Tyler said.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Ray teased.

“Yea, my boy takes the law quite seriously, doesn’t he?” Tyler smiled.

“Morgan actually told Richard he wasn’t as good a cop as you,” Ray said.

“Forget Morgan. He always was a tosser,” Tyler laughed.

Then looking at Tommy, he asked,

“I get it right that time?”

Tommy gave him a thumbs up as he closed the door and locked it.

“All right now. What’s next?” Tyler asked Rory.

“I don’t know. My plan stopped at the door,” Rory said.

“You git. Only you would walk us into the lion’s den with no exit plan,” Tommy scolded.

“Guys, focus. We need to get to King before Bonkers does,” Ray pointed out, slipping through the double doors and entering the hallway.

As the men followed Ray, Tyler added,

“And we need to move before we’re arrested for interfering!”

“Or before King’s guards shoot us,” Tommy said.

“Okay. Okay. So maybe this wasn’t the best plan,” Rory admitted.

“Now you say that?” Tommy asked.

“Hey! I did my part,” Rory said. “I got us in.”

“That was my job, mate,” Tommy insisted.

“But it was my plan,” Rory defended.

“Fellows, please,” Ray said, trying to calm them down.

Suddenly the doors at the end of the hall opened and King’s security poured in.

“Take cover!” Tyler yelled.

Just as they all dove behind the boxes, the guards opened fire.

“I hope you survive this so if I die, I can haunt you!” Tommy yelled out.

Ignoring the remark, Rory asked, “What now? We’re pinned down.”

“Give me a second to think,” Ray demanded.

Pressed between the wall and a stack of boxes, Ray heard the double doors at the other end of the hall open. When he peeked around the containers, his heart jumped and his chest tightened as through the doors stepped Captain Bonkers, pistols raised.

The Train: Episode 70

“Oh great. A city-wide manhunt is going to make slipping around unnoticed very difficult,” Nicole said.

“I think that’s the idea,” Michael suggested.

Nicole furrowed her brow and said,

“What do you mean? You think he’s doing this on purpose?”

“Yep,” Michael said as he noticed passersby going out of their way to avoid them.

“How is that possible? We had just gotten here off the train when things started changing. How could he have known what we were up to?” Dr. Ricer asked.

Before Michael could answer, police sirens diverted their attention.

“Seriously?” Michael snapped. “Average police response time is 9-12 minutes, and I know we haven’t been standing here that long.”

“They must have been nearby,” Ricer said.

“Or on edge,” Michael suggested.

“Or the killer called them ahead of time,” Nicole added.

“Now what are we going to do?” Ricer asked.

“We have to lose them, or they’ll be after us the whole time we’re here, making our investigation pretty much impossible,” Nicole warned.

All of a sudden, two patrol cars came sliding around the corner, lights flashing, just as a ’66 Chevelle SS pulled to a stop in front of the pharmacy next door.

Everything seemed to slow and fade out as a plan began to form in Michael’s mind.

How to evade the police in a car chase:

Step 1: Choose your ride.

If you have the option, pick a vehicle that handles easily, given the terrain, but also blends well. A shiny sports car may help you escape, but if you stand out, you won’t be able to hide for long.

“I have an idea,” Michael said.

“Great. Tell us later. We need to move,” Nicole advised.

“That’s part of my plan,” Michael returned.

Michael saw that people were watching them, and he knew exactly what to do. Turning to Ricer he said,

“Sorry, Doc.”

He threw a weak right cross at Ricer, knocking him backwards, then turned and shoved Nicole. Quickly reaching into his bag, he pulled out his pistol and fired twice into the air.

While Ricer and Nicole tried to recover, Michael bolted for the Chevelle and jumped the hood just as the driver was getting out.

“Hey!” the guy yelled in protest. But when Michael shoved the pistol in his gut, the man went silent.

“Keys now!” Michael demanded.

When the driver handed over the keys, Michael shoved him out of the way and jumped into the driver’s seat. Turning over the engine, he threw it into gear, stepped on the gas, and peeled out of the parking space.

Step 2: Don’t get out and keep moving.

Although you may be tempted, ditching a car for the stealthy approach is a bad idea while the police are after you. Wait until you’ve lost them. The cops and environment may try to slow you down, but stopping is a certain death sentence. Slow down as necessary but avoid stopping at all costs. Keep moving and always have an exit plan.

Michael sped away with the police on his tail.

 

*          *          *

 

Dr. Ricer sat on the concrete, shaken by Michael’s behavior. While Nicole brushed the dirt off her slacks, a couple hurried over to Ricer and helped him up off the sidewalk.

“Are you two okay?” the woman asked, trying to comfort them.

“Yes, yes,” Ricer replied, rubbing his jaw.

“You two are so lucky,” the man said.

“Why do you say that?” Nicole asked, still fuming from Michael’s push.

“Oh my dear, that man!” the woman asked.

“The guy who punched you just murdered a cab driver!” the man explained.

Ricer and Nicole exchanged a glance as two more patrol cars shot by in pursuit of Michael.

“Do you need a doctor?” the woman asked.

“No thanks. We’re fine,” Nicole said, grabbing Michael’s bag. “Come on, Doc.”

Nicole and Ricer walked down the street and disappeared around a corner. When she was certain no one was watching, she threw down the bag and spat,

“That idiot!”

“What?” Ricer asked.

“Michael!” Nicole barked. “That imbecile just put himself in the crosshairs to keep us safe.”

“I think his plan was to distract the cops so we could keep investigating,” Ricer said.

“I know,” Nicole sighed, her voice suddenly softening. “It’s just that. . .”

“What?” Ricer asked.

“Oh nothing,” Nicole replied.

After a moment Ricer asked,

“So what should we do now?”

Nicole looked off in the distance as she thought before answering,

“This killer’s after something. Something is attracting him to these places.”

“I don’t know what it could be. One location didn’t even exist until two years ago,” Ricer informed.

“Maybe not, but there’s something there.  We need to check public records, anything that may lead us to what happened, what led the killer to target these places,” Nicole reasoned.

“Should we warn the police or the people who live there? One of the places is an apartment building,” Ricer said.

“If it’s necessary. But I don’t believe that’ll stop the killer. What is it about these places that’s drawing him?” Nicole wondered.

“Is Mr. Michael mad at you, Grandpa?” Lucy asked.

“No, dear. He’s just taking care of a problem so we don’t have to,” Ricer explained.

Ricer looked at Nicole and asked,

“Where to now?”

“The public records office. They may have something. Come on,” Nicole directed.

Dragon Fire: Episode 83

As Cerros struggled to rise, the stone at his neck glowing with a blue radiance, he knew that because of his injuries and loss of weapons, he would likely be unable to help the young prince. Though Cerros drew comfort as he thought about joining Erlin and Cadrus, the wife and child he had lost in death so long ago, he grieved knowing that Atol would die protecting the castle, as would Idrian and Olon. Now only a few feet away, Edron roared and slammed his hammer to the earth with enough force to shatter stone.

The ground split beneath the blow and dust filled the air.

From across the battlefield, Atol’s heart broke as he saw the hammer strike and knew that Cerros was dead though he had fought valiantly. Soon his own fate would be the same. He courageously turned to meet the advancing foe. As Edron walked, the dust behind him began slowly to settle. Suddenly, Atol gasped when he saw Cerros rise from the earth.

At Atol’s look of surprise, Edron turned to see Cerros standing tall, surrounded by a clear ball of white energy. Though his battle armor was torn and he wielded no weapons, Cerros marched toward Edron with purpose.

“What magic is this?” Edron wondered.

He raised the hammer and brought it down again, striking the ground as a thunderclap split the air and the earth shook and tore. Like waves breaking upon the rocks, the force splintered against the glowing shield that surrounded Cerros.

“What are you?” Edron demanded.

As Cerros moved steadily towards Edron, Atol rejoiced until he saw the glowing stone around the neck of the great warrior.

“Olaskalam,” Atol whispered.

Olaskalam, the light stone, was an object of great power no one had seen in a generation. A stone of greatest purity, it drew upon the very life of the one who wore it, making him supremely powerful just moments before it killed him. Atol was disheartened. He knew that although Cerros would have the power to save his comrades, he would lose his life in the bargain.

“I will not be defeated by an inferior warrior,” Edron told Cerros.

Once again Edron raised his hammer, but before he could bring it down, Cerros reached up seizing his wrists.

Edron cried out in pain as the skin beneath Cerros’ grasp began to sizzle.

His eyes glowing white, Cerros said,

“If I must drag you to death myself—”

Cerros stopped when Edron’s screams grew louder and his skin began to crack as white energy burst forth.

“This day will be your end!” Cerros thundered.

Just as Atol closed his eyes, Cerros and Edron exploded in a burst of white light. Then the light died away, leaving behind only scorched earth.

Nyriad screeched,

“Brother!”

“He is gone,” Atol said as Idrian rose to her feet.

“No! He is not dead!” Nyriad shouted in rage. “But you soon will be.”

“The fight is over. You are defeated,” Atol said.

All around her, the ground began to swell.

“I will feed on your bones before this day is over!” Nyriad spat.

Atol felt the earth begin to shake and watched as it split from the tree line of the field to the castle wall.  Whatever Nyriad was calling to her was an army.

When the first section of earth broke loose, a small brown leathery hand reached out and pulled itself free. The creature was small but its numbers would be great.

“Goblins,” Atol said looking around.

“Yes!” Nyriad spat. “Release me and perhaps they will not feast on your dead body.”

Atol ran for Idrian. Taking flight was his only escape.

“No!” Nyriad yelled.

Roots from her armor lashed out and wrapped themselves around Idrian.

Idrian roared as she struggled to free herself.

“Goblins cannot be trusted,” Atol warned. “They will betray you.”

“So be it,” Nyriad growled.

As Atol fought to free Idrian, he looked at Olon and shouted,

“Dive deep. Run and warn the others.”

When Olon refused to leave his comrade, Atol ordered,

“Go now!”

When the last goblin crawled out from the ground, it began to chitter along with the others and the earth grew very still. Then suddenly the ground began to rumble.

Atol looked around to find the cause. When he saw the trees give way to an army of the dead, pouring from the tree line, he lost all hope of escape. Row upon row they came.

“What have you done?” Atol asked Nyriad.

Nyriad’s smile faded as a man, a man she knew, a man who was supposed to be imprisoned, broke through the ranks of the dead and stood before them.

Atol watched in amazement as Degan, cloaked in black energy, stepped forward and commanded,

“Slay the goblins!”

A skeleton to his left, clothed in shards of a soldier’s armor, raised his sword and let out a battle cry. The army of the dead took up the cry and it filled the air as they poured out from the trees in an unending wave. They washed over the goblins without mercy, killing them one by one as Degan strode through the chaos to Atol and Nyriad.

Degan’s eyes pierced Nyriad as he ordered,

“Release her!”

Terrified, Nyriad quickly pulled back the roots, freeing Idrian. The great beast stood and looked out over the army that covered the field.

“Do not fear,” Atol calmed Idrian.

Looking at Atol, Degan asked,

“Where is Cerros?”

Atol hung his head in grief. Before he could speak, Nyriad screamed,

“My brother is dead, and my master will see you skinned alive for your betrayal!”

Degan looked at Nyriad, his eyes like burning coals, and after a moment said,

“Take her. She is yours.”

Atol would not look as the dead dragged Nyriad away. As she disappeared into the massive army, her screams faded and all was still.

The Prophet of Starfall: Episode 15

Determined to get his hands on the butterfly, Kyran McAddams and his men laid siege to Thymatec Laboratories. While Jericho and 4 21 fought off McAddams and his men, Nathan and Elisabeth hurried down the hall to find John Stafford and his hostage Charlene Reynolds.

Moving farther and farther away from the action as they ran deeper into the building, Nathan and Elisabeth came to a split in the hallway.

“Which way?” Elisabeth asked.

Nathan hesitated then said,

“You have spatial awareness. So where is he?”

“It doesn’t work if the target is too far away. Besides, why are you asking me? Just tell me where he went.”

Nathan nervously looked from one hallway to the other, uncertain which one to take.

“What? You got stage fright now? Hurry up,” Elisabeth snapped.

“I don’t know which way. Okay?” Nathan blurted out.

Surprised by Nathan’s uncertainty, Elisabeth asked, “What do you mean you don’t know?” I thought you were the man who knew everything. How can you not know?”

“Where I come from, everything that’s been happening here is right out of a graphic novel. I’ve read that novel and its sequels so many times that I memorized it cover to cover. Problem is, what I know ends with the battle going on outside. I don’t know what happens in here where we are,” Nathan explained.

With an indignant tone, Elisabeth asked,

“So this entire time your confidence, your arrogance, your smug smile, were all because you knew what was going to happen because of some book?”

Nathan just nodded.

“Do you even have abilities?” Elisabeth demanded.

“Yes!” Nathan insisted. “I still can sense things just before they happen. I can still tell you anything about anyone I meet. And I still have visions. But my knowledge of what happens next isn’t as extensive as it was.”

When Elisabeth saw that Nathan was clearly upset, she felt guilty for coming on so strong.

Calming herself, she tried to reassure him.

“You’ll be fine. Trust your instincts. Okay? Now which way do you think?”

“I don’t know,” Nathan said, his voice faltering.

“Just relax and trust your gut,” Elisabeth suggested.

“I can’t do it. Can’t seem to think straight,” Nathan confessed. “Back home, I never took risks without a backup plan, an exit plan. Before I came to Starfall, the biggest risk I ever took was cheating on a Biology exam. I knew I was going to fail the test anyway, so getting caught cheating wasn’t much of a risk.”

Elisabeth sighed deeply then looked up at him.

“Okay, Nathan, let me ask you a question. When you saved me after I was thrown off the building, what was your exit plan?”

Nathan thought for a moment then shook his head, “I didn’t have one.”

“Right. You didn’t have one because you weren’t thinking. You acted on instinct,” she pointed out. “My father used to say that you can know everything about the wild and still be a lousy hunter. Sometimes life is moving too fast for us to think about it. We just have to react and trust our training.”

“I don’t have training,” Nathan replied.

“You have everything you need, Nathan,” she said. “I’ve seen it. You just need to trust your instincts. Let me prove my point.”

She turned to face Nathan and said,

“I’ll tell you exactly what I’m going to do, so there’ll be no surprises. You’re fast enough to react properly. Just trust your instincts and don’t think about it.”

She held up her hands palms out and said,

“I’m going to swing at you with my right hand, and then I’m going to throw you toward the wall and draw on you with your own gun. Ready?”

Nathan nodded nervously.

When Elisabeth swung her open palm at Nathan, he easily ducked it but then felt her right wing hook onto his jacket as her left hand grabbed his pistol. Then she twisted, extending her wing, threw Nathan across the floor, and pointed his pistol at him.

She walked over, helped him to his feet, and returned his weapon.

“See. You were thinking too much, and it cost you. This time, trust your instincts and you’ll be fine.”

“Now,” Elisabeth said turning to face the two hallways. “Which way?”

Nathan closed his eyes and concentrated.

“The left one,” he said.

Suddenly a gunshot rang out and Nathan pulled back his head just as a bullet whizzed past and punched into the wall.

Whipping around, Elisabeth saw Horton and Morton running right at them.

“Go!” Elisabeth snapped.

Nathan ran a few steps down the left hallway then stopped and turned back to Elisabeth.

“I’ll be fine. Just stop Stafford!” Elisabeth ordered.

“Wait!” Nathan yelled.

Before he could move toward her, Elisabeth punched the wall with all her strength, causing it to buckle and block the end of the hallway.

Now Nathan had no choice but to keep going forward, hunting for Stafford.

As he hurried down the hall, he kept considering what Elisabeth had told him, trying not to over think things. If Stafford were cornered, he would release the butterfly. Nathan knew he didn’t have much time, but he couldn’t stop worrying about Elisabeth.

 

*          *          *

 

Spreading her magnificent wings, Elisabeth shot down the hallway on the right, pausing just long enough to keep Horton and Morton following her.

“Bad little bird,” Morton said.

“Come and get me,” Elisabeth dared.

Horton raised his rifle and fired a shot through the scope. The moment he pulled the trigger, Elisabeth moved to the side, out of the way.

“You’re bad at this!” she yelled back.

She could easily take down both of them, but for now, she had to keep them busy long enough for Nathan to find Stafford.

She flew down the hallway until she came to the point where it opened up into a large room filled with loading equipment and tanks marked with hazardous material warnings. She could hear Stafford and Reynolds in a heated argument.

“What are they doing?” she wondered.

Suddenly a chunk of concrete struck her in the side. She turned just in time to see Morton pulling another chunk of concrete out of the floor. What she didn’t see was Horton raising his rifle.

He fired off a shot and the bullet split the air, tearing through one of her wings.

Elisabeth fell to the floor, pain surging through her injured wing. She knew she couldn’t fly until it healed.

Carefully pulling in her wings, she dove for cover behind one of the tanks just as Horton fired a second shot.

Closing her eyes, she concentrated.

She counted four people in the room: Horton, Morton, Stafford, and Reynolds. Suddenly  Nathan stepped from another hallway into the other side of the room near Stafford.

Elisabeth smiled and thought to herself,

“Go get him.”

She opened her eyes, withdrew her pistols, and readied herself for a fight.

“Come out, little bird,” Morton said in singsong, “so I can tear off your wings.”

The Cadillac Diaries: Episode 83

Clive Morgan, head of the mayor’s task force, stood in the charred remains of the gentlemen’s club Apollo Fire pushing aside bits of debris with the toe of his shoe. Fire Rescue, still searching through the ruins, had already uncovered thirty bodies.

Morgan heard a car pull into the parking lot and turned to see Detective Richard Clay and Raymond Slats.

As they approached, Morgan greeted,

“Boys.”

“How many victims so far?” Richard asked.

“I stopped counting at thirty,” Morgan said with disgust. “Never seen anything like this.”

“He’s getting more violent, more aggressive,” Richard observed.

“Any idea what he’s after?” Morgan asked.

“Not really. I—,” Richard began.

“Bradford King,” Ray broke in.

“Bradford King,” Richard repeated.

Morgan studied the faces of both men for a moment then said,

“Richard, you’re a good cop. And a great detective. Course you’re not as good as your daddy, but you’re getting there. Everybody on the force respects you. That being said, some of us suspect that your recent success comes from this mysterious father-in-law of yours whose life apparently began when he started driving a cab for the city of Whitelake.”

Morgan looked straight at Ray and asked,

“So what were you doing before your cabbie days, Mr. Slats?”

“Dog groomer,” Ray replied.

“What’d I tell you?” Morgan said holding out a hand, “Mysterious.”

“No disrespect intended, but let’s just cut the charades. Instead of talking to the puppet, let’s hear what Geppetto has to say,” Morgan requested as he looked at Ray. “Spill it, old timer. What makes you think this clown is headed for King?”

“For the same reason you won’t find the body of Evelyn Caine. Captain Bonkers is acting out a plot of revenge to destroy the people who ruined him. Every person he’s killed has either worked directly for King or been associated with him in some way. Not only did Bonkers kill whoever answered to King but also he left behind a marker with each victim. A game piece from a chessboard. In his twisted mind, each of these people represents a piece of a figurative chessboard that protects King in some way. Bonkers has been slowly working his way up the line until he reaches the final piece on the board, the king.”

For a moment, Morgan considered what Ray had said then asked,

“If that’s true, then why isn’t Evelyn Caine’s body here? On display like all the other victims.”

“I think Caine ordered the hit on Bonkers’ family and King approved it. If my theory is correct and Bonkers is acting out his revenge, Evelyn Caine’s his next victim. She may still be alive but not for long,” Ray explained.

 

*          *          *

 

When Evelyn Caine regained consciousness, she was lying on a cold wooden floor. Her head throbbed, and as she reached up to touch the spot, she discovered that her hands were bound. A thick musty smell filled her nostrils, and she gagged at the stench. Except for a few pinpricks of light, the room was dark.

Struggling to her feet, she felt nauseous and her head began to spin. She reached out with her foot and hit what seemed to be a wall. Bracing herself against it, she let her eyes adjust to the dark while she waited for the nausea and dizziness to pass. When she strained against the dark to see where she was, she saw that she was in the back of a large truck.

Suddenly she heard the cab door slam shut and the handles of the rear cargo doors click as someone opened them.

There he stood, barely visible in the low light.

“I don’t know how you did it, but you will regret getting her involved,” Caine said angrily. “She will betray you the moment she no longer needs you.”

When Captain Bonkers pulled out his pistol and quickly fired a shot into the air, Caine jumped. Her ears still ringing, she looked up to see that Bonkers was motioning for her to come closer.

At first she hesitated, but then she realized that if she got closer, she might have a chance to get the gun away from him. Walking to the edge of the truck, she looked out. They were in the country in the middle of a field with no houses nearby.

Bonkers lowered the ramp and motioned for her to walk down onto the grass. She decided she would collapse, falling into him and grabbing the gun. But the second she came close, he backhanded her and pushed her down the ramp.

As she struggled to recover her balance, she saw that just behind Bonkers was a large box covered with a tarp.

Looking from the box into Bonkers’ cold eyes, she saw that he was holding up a tape recorder and a piece of paper. When she read what was on the paper, she protested,

“I’m not reading that!”

In response, Bonkers shot her in the foot.

Crying out in pain, Caine fell to the ground and Bonkers squatted down next to her, again holding out the piece of paper.

Reluctantly, she took the paper and began to read as Bonkers held the recorder to her mouth.

“My name is Evelyn Caine. Working with Bradford King, I have cost the lives of hundreds. Most of them I had killed because they were a threat to me. Others because they insulted me. I deserve no more than the same mercy I offered to others. Don’t bother burying me for like Jezebel, only the dogs will remember me.”

Bonkers turned off the recorder, tucking it into his pocket, and retrieved the paper.

As she slowly stood, Caine winced at the pain in her wounded foot.

“What now?” she asked. “Don’t you want revenge, you weak simpleton?”

Bonkers motioned with the gun toward the open field.

“I’m not going to run away so you can just shoot me in the back. If you want to kill me, you’ll have to shoot me in the face,” Caine yelled.

Bonkers turned to the box and removed the tarp. Caine saw that it was a large metal crate with holes along the top. When Bonkers pounded the crate three times, from inside came the sound of barking dogs.

Caine felt her chest tighten.

“What did you mean by only the dogs will remember me?” she asked in alarm.

Bonkers climbed up to the top of the crate and waited.

Now filled with terror, Caine began running as fast as she could with a wounded foot. As she hobbled away, she risked a glance backwards.

She saw Bonkers reach down and raise a bow and arrow. Placing the nock of the arrow into the bowstring, he pulled back, aiming at the fleeing Caine, and released. Looking ahead, she fought against the pain, trying to run faster.

Suddenly she heard the pop of the bow and felt a shooting pain in her side as the arrow pierced her right lung. Struggling to breath, she fell to the ground then watched in horror as Bonkers bent over and opened the crate.

Eight wild dogs tore from the open cage and headed straight for Caine. Too weak to rise, she covered her eyes as the dogs leapt on her.

Bonkers watched, his head tilted slightly to the side, and listened to Caine scream as the dogs tore at her. When her cries finally died down, Bonkers climbed down from the crate, removed the recorder from his pocket, and placed it on top the crate. Then from his other pocket, he pulled out a chess piece, the black queen, and centered it on top the recorder. Turning back to the truck, he slid the ramp back in place, climbed in the cab and drove away.

Coming soon

army-unsettled

Published in: Uncategorized on March 3, 2017 at 8:50 pm  Leave a Comment  
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The Train: Episode 69

Michael could see that the figure wrapped in shadows had a man’s build. Just as he ran toward the figure, Nicole drew her pistol. Seeing the gun, the man turned and headed farther back into the shadows. The round fired, cut through the air past Michael’s ear and struck the man in the shoulder. Twisting from the hit, the man kept running, gripping his wound. The back of the burned out rec center opened up to an alley. When he reached what was left of the back door, the man forced his way through and ran into the alley, hurdling a car and running in front of a truck. As the truck driver blared his horn, sliding to a stop, the fleeing man dodged the front bumper and disappeared. Michael stopped and searched the alley. The man was gone.

“What happened?” Nicole asked, catching up.

“He got away,” Michael said.

“How? I hit him,” Nicole questioned.

“You did, but if it slowed him down, I sure couldn’t tell. He’s fast,” Michael replied.

Michael told Nicole what had happened in the alley.

“He’s the killer, I assume?” Nicole asked.

Michael wasn’t listening. His attention had shifted to a cab parked at the mouth of the alley, the vehicle the killer had leapt over in his escape.

“Wait here,” Michael said, approaching the cab.

As he drew closer, everything slowed and his training kicked in.

 

How to investigate a crime scene:

Step 1: Approach and secure the area around the scene.

Before entering a crime scene, ingress and egress must be controlled to prevent contamination of any potential physical evidence. Make a mental note of what you see, hear and smell. Determine if anything looks out of place.

Except for the rantings of the angry truck driver as he drove away, the street was relatively quiet. A few cars passed by, and Michael noticed the smell of burnt fuel. He reasoned that the cab must have been parked in a hurry because it was blocking the alley, something a cabbie would avoid so as not to be ticketed or towed.

Step 2: Initiate preliminary survey.

Conduct a survey of the crime scene itself. Look for signs of entry such as open windows, damaged doors, ladders and the like. Note all sensory readings—the smells, sounds, sights—as before and once again determine if anything looks out of place.  Take plenty of photos of the scene.

Michael placed his hand on the hood of the cab and confirmed that the engine was warm. None of the windows were broken, and the keys were still in the ignition. As he circled the cab, he spotted a small piece of clothing sticking out from the closed trunk, and completing his lap around the car, he saw luggage in the back seat.

Step 3: Evaluate physical evidence.

Reconstruct the events of the crime. Use the physical evidence to answer questions such as: Did the crime take place here or somewhere else? Has the victim or anything in the scene been tampered with? How did the crime affect the scene (signs of a struggle, blood spatter, bullet holes)?

Michael tried the driver’s door and found it was locked. Removing a pair of lock pics from his pocket, he opened the door and carefully slipped the keys out of the ignition. As his eyes slid over the interior of the car, he saw two bullet holes in the driver’s seat and two in the seat behind the driver. Michael slipped out of the car, walked around to the back, and opened the trunk. Curled up on the floor mat, face upward, was a dead man. When he carefully turned the man over, he saw two bullet holes in his back.

Step 4: Prepare a narrative of the scene.

From the collected evidence, compose an account of what happened.

Michael stepped away and looked over at Nicole.

“Well, here’s the cab driver.”

“How do you know it’s him?” Nicole asked.

“The driver’s seat has two bullets holes entering the back of the seat and ejecting through the front with no damage to the dash or window. Plus, the driver has two bullet holes in his back, so he had to be driving when whoever was in the back seat shot him twice. There’s no blood spatter on the front seat or on the back seat. Looks like his killer hailed a cab, probably one at random, climbed in and shot the driver twice in the back with a small caliber pistol. Then he threw the body into the trunk and drove the cab to pick up James Nolan. After leaving the airport, I would guess pretty much after he pulled in here, he turned around and shot Nolan twice in the chest before dragging his body inside and hanging it from the rafter,” Michael explained.

“So he kills a random cab driver just so he can pick up a random guy and kill him in this place which someone, probably him, burned down?” Nicole asked.

“I know. I know. It doesn’t make sense, but there’s got to be a connection we’re missing,” Michael said. “We need to figure out what it is.”

“You know what this reminds me of?” Nicole asked.

“What’s that?” Michael questioned.

“The assignment before this one. Things kept changing. Remember?” Nicole said.

 

*          *          *

 

As they were leaving the scene, Michael realized he still had the car keys.

“Hold on. I’ve got to put everything back the way it was.”

Michael left Nicole and hurried back to the cab. He put the keys back in the ignition then locked and closed the door. Moving around to the trunk, he repositioned the body the way it was when he found it and was closing the trunk when he heard a woman’s voice ask,

“What are you doing?”

When Michael spun around, he saw a middle-aged woman staring at him in horror.

“It’s not what you think,” he quickly explained.

When he stepped closer, the woman let out an ear-piercing scream and ran off.

“Well that can’t be good,” he said.

Checking that the trunk was securely closed, Michael hurried back to Nicole.

“We need to get out of here!” he insisted.

“What happened? What was that scream?” she asked.

“Some woman. I don’t know. She spotted me with the body.”

When they reached Dr. Ricer, he was nervously pacing back and forth.

“What happened?” he demanded.

“What do you mean?” Nicole asked.

“According to history, what was a simple murder investigation is now a city-wide manhunt.”

Published in: on February 16, 2017 at 6:12 pm  Leave a Comment  
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Dragon Fire: Episode 82

“Do you dare to stand against me?” Alidus said, his voice booming.

Aric and the guards dropped to their knees, kneeling before Alidus.

Prince Alidus approached Aric and commanded,

“Take these men and follow me. I go to the tower to face Zephryses. This battle will not be an easy one. You must stay behind my sword.”

Aric stood and turned to the guards.

“Arise, men. Take up your arms and fight with the true king.”

Getting to their feet, the guards raised his swords and shouted.

Aric turned to Alidus and said,

“Lead on, my liege”

Alidus turned to face the tower and strode towards it.

Out of the thick clouds of smoke that billowed from the castle entrance came creatures wrapped in black sludge.

“Onward, men! Stand and fight!” Aric yelled as they moved forward.

“You shall not change my course,” Alidus said.

With a sweep of his hand, the creatures exploded in fire as Alidus drew closer. Raising his hand, he sent out a stream of fire that raced through the air consuming the smoke.

As Alidus neared the entrance, he heard a rumbling voice from the tower.

“Face me, child. I overcame death. I shall overcome you.”

With a heart of steel, Alidus valiantly marched into the tower.

“Stay back but not far,” Alidus ordered as he increased the heat, tearing away at the smoke.

Aric and the guards followed Alidus up the winding stone staircase to a landing where the smoke cleared.

There they came upon a frightened Nesmoru in a fighting stance.

“I cannot let you pass,” he insisted with shaking hands.

“As satisfying as it would be to end your life, I shall leave your fate to another,” Alidus said.

Stepping aside, he said,

“Uncle, greet your son.”

Aric stepped forward, his sword raised.

Nesmoru took a quick breath as he stared at Aric.

“I shall leave you two now,” Alidus said.

Turning back to the stairs, Alidus commanded,

“Guards, come with me.”

As the men followed him up the stairs, Nesmoru kept his eyes on Aric.

“You are mistaken. I have no offspring,” he said.

“Having a son was not your intent when you raped my mother and left her for dead!” Aric growled.

“I will need more detail. I have known many a wench,” Nesmoru replied.

“It happened during the war. You attacked her then tossed her aside like something without value. Had it not been for the monks of the monastery, she would have died,” Aric thundered.

Nesmoru paused, lifted his face to consider, and then said,

“Oh yes. I do remember her.”

He leaned forward a bit and sneered,

“She was in alliance with the siblings and wanted my help. I told her I would help but expected a favor in return.”

Aric tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword.

“I simply wanted a kind word spoken about how I had helped her, but before I could say anything, she had disrobed,” Nesmoru laughed. “I knew it would not take much to get her in that position again.”

Taking delight in Aric’s obvious anguish, he studied him for a moment.

“You are stronger than the others to hold back your blade. But no matter. There is no saving this world, my boy. The Master will soon overtake both you and the prince and claim his land. No one can defeat him. Should you actually succeed in striking me down, the Master will simply bring me back.”

Then extending the blade of his sword, Nesmoru lunged at Aric. Aric quickly spun out of the way and drove both his swords through Nesmoru’s back.

Pushing him to the edge of the landing, Aric lifted him and said,

“If so, then I shall simply kill you again.”

Pulling the blades free, Aric turned Nesmoru around to face him. His eyes widened in surprise, Nesmoru gasped for breath as blood poured from the wounds, soaking into his clothes.

“Goodbye, Father,” Aric said pushing Nesmoru over the wall.

As Nesmoru fell to the ground, Aric wiped the blood from his swords and sheathed them.

“I must hurry. Prince Alidus may need my help,” he thought.

 

*          *          *

 

When Alidus reached the top of the tower, he stopped when he saw the twisted decomposing form of what was once a man. Alidus knew that this decaying vessel held the spirit of the once High Priest Zephryses.

“Your new form seems to have failed you, Zephryses,” Alidus observed.

“Zephryses is no more. I am Zulagareth, and I would have your vessel if it were not for the power within you.”

“You are reprehensible to all that is pure and good,” Alidus spat.

“You would do well to conceal your arrogance, boy. Your power cannot stop me from killing you,” Zulagareth growled.

When the guards who had followed Alidus reached him, they poured into the room. Instantly, Alidus realized his mistake. Zulagareth opened his hands and smoke poured out, filling the room. All around him, Alidus could hear the men screaming.

“Surrender, boy. You cannot triumph over someone who has already defeated—”

Zulagareth was interrupted when Alidus suddenly burst into flames that shot out in every direction then exploded upwards through the roof.

Alidus looked down at the burned corpse of Zulagareth.

“Your power has little worth,” Alidus said.

“Up here, boy,” Zulagareth called.

Alidus looked up and saw a great cloud of black smoke swirling above him.

“In this form, you have no hope of destroying me,” Zulagareth boasted. “Perhaps you should have brought your friends.”

“I did,” Alidus returned.

At that moment, two majestic dragons swooped down from the clouds, landing on the castle keep.

“Clever,” Zulagareth said as the black cloud began to swirl. “I can do that as well.”

From inside the cloud, a dragon as black as the blackest night crawled forth and roared, sending out a stream of flame from its mouth that engulfed Alidus.

Published in: on February 16, 2017 at 6:10 pm  Leave a Comment  
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