《Vanum》Chapter II-XII
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Deathringer
There is no sound as Dinozon Palar, better known as Deathringer, leaves the square transporter after the other four members of his squat have already left. Just a few moments prior they had arrived at the location of the last life-ship. With the success of the other arrests as tailwind, this job looks like a piece of cake. Deathringer can’t wait to get the last few renegades and cash in the reward for a job well done.
Yet, before he allows himself to celebrate, he has to do the job. So, he trails a bit after the others, seemingly loitering around as if he had nothing better to do. But he is not idle. His psychic ability to find life-signs works best when he covers large areas without concentrating too much on anything in peculiar. Moreover, if he finds their targets before the others, he can cash in a higher bounty.
Yet after a few minutes of walking this way and that, and sneaking around the perimeter he notices a flicker in a nearby shadow. Slow he pulls his sleek combat-batons out of his hyperspace-bracelet, which are made to stun any unwilling suspects. He throws one up into in the air and catches it masterfully with an eloquent twirl.
Slow Deathringer approaches the massive rock, in whose shadow he has seen the movement. While he does so, he has to fight the urge to gloat. He might have found one of the deserters. After all, hiding in the shadows of large rock-formations is one of the oldest and most obvious ways to hide. But about half way there he stops. I don’t feel any life-presence over there, he observes and frowns.
Suddenly, he feels someone right behind him but as he jumps around with his batons at the ready and expecting the sound of bones breaking and blood spilling. But there’s no thud or blood and certainly no perpetrator. Miffed, Deathringer stares at the dust cloud he has caused and waits. His psychic ability picks nothing up. Strange, he thinks and concentrates harder. Sure, I can’t feel the others since Molina hides them, but I should feel if something’s around here. But there’s nothing. No animal. No Menkar. Nothing.
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Again a shadow flickers past him and he reacts. But again he hits nothing but dusty air. He hisses with his round ears pulled back and showing his teeth, of whom he misses a few. The next moment he hears the sounds of someone fighting. But before he can be certain where the sounds exactly come from they are cut off.
Immediately he runs to the area of the life-ship, as the sounds have most likely originated there. The moment he arrives there, he immediately knows there’s something off. He can tell it by the taste in the air, the faintest trace of blood, and the fact he can’t feel any of his squat members. But the last one doesn’t necessarily mean that something happened to them.
Still, there is no one of his squat outside the ship and no one has called him back. Slow he walks towards the entrance of the life-ship. He can feel something lurking in the darkness within it, but it doesn’t feel alive. It’s more like a premonition.
Deathringer stops and listens. Nothing but the taste of fear at the back of his tongue.
Fear has never stopped him.
Without hesitation Deathringer jumps into the darkness of the life-ship and half expects to ram his baton against a head or into a body. But there is no one.
As he leaves the life-ship with his round ears twitching into every direction, he notices smears of glistening light-grey blood. They lead to bloody hand prints, which move along the ship’s hull. Tightening the grip around his batons, Deathringer follows them, ready to kill anyone and anything that might get the stupid idea to attack him.
The moment he darts around the corner, he just sees one of his colleagues lying on the ground. Slow without letting his eye remain too long on any given spot and with his back to the life-ship’s hull, he walks to the body and turns it around. He doesn‘t need to check if the Executioner is still alive since her chest is cleaved wide open, exposing a few ribs and the glistening intestines. The expression of utter shock on her face gets under his skin, though.
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Deathringer swallows hard and looks around for the murderer. Skilful he jumps on the life-ship where he finds two sets of strange flat boot prints. One set consists out of dust, but the other one is mixed in with light-grey blood. Carful not to step on them, the small Executioner jumps down from the ship and lands soundless on the dirt. Looking around for further clues he finds something written on the ship, only legible thanks to the blue light of the moon:
Five little Executioners out of the door,
One got sliced open and then there were four.
He frowns at the message and continues to look for the others to report this murder. He could also go back to the transporter and tell Flextruth about it. But all she would do, was to accuse him of killing them, although this is complete nonsense. While there are power struggles inside the ranks of the Executioners, none would be stupid enough to act on those petty squabbles and endanger their missions. Murder those on the outside first to show those on the inside what you are capable of, he repeats an old saying among the Executioners, but Deatheringer is not in the mood to dwell on it.
He is a trained Executioner that has about ninety Circles of experience to brag about. Serious and with his back to the solid life-ship, he rounds the ship and stumbles at the other end over the two dead bodies of his other team members. Their blood coating the ship in just marginally different shades of grey. Again someone has written with it:
Four little Executioners here to see,
One got cut open and then there were three.
Three little Executioners out in the blue,
One ended up like the other and then there were two.
Although Deathringer doesn’t want to admit it, it clearly gets on his nerves in a very annoying and slightly, to his dismay, fear inducing way. Slow he backs away and walks right into someone. Startled, he turns around and hits them out of reflex. He feels how one of his batons cracks solid bone. Taken aback, he stares in shock at his last teammate going down with his skull bashed in. A mere heartbeat later he notices the black shadow standing right in front of him. A black gloved finger in front of a faceless white mask with one red eye on it signals him to stay silent.
Before he can even blink, the black figure jumps towards him ready to kill with the slightly curved sword in their hands. In a last attempt to save himself he instinctively sends out his second psychic ability, which should cause all muscles of his attacker to lock into place. But they do not stop. A heartbeat later, Deathringer feels the blade cut into him, accompanied by the taste of blood. The last thing he sees is the empty mask close to his face.
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Earth is a fairly small place, but it's all Bath has. It's the only home he's ever known for all of his 500-or-so-million years of life. One day, Bath realized his treasured Earth was being drawn into the next mass extinction ahead of schedule. So, fascinated by the humans and their quick rise to power (after all, setting off a mass extinction is a pretty sizable achievement), what's a nearly all-powerful, somewhat bored, morally ambiguous, savagely violent, shapeshifting alien entity to do other than assume the form of a human and do some front-line investigating? Little did Bath know he would soon stumble upon a mysterious human organization with a gate leading to planets eons away. And that's just the beginning... A story with aliens, intergalactic space travel, mind powers, and an abundance of adventure! Author's note: ON HIATUS! Hello and thank you for reading! Constructive criticism and grammar-policing are both appreciated. Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6 are complete at 1271 pages! Part 7 is in progress! If you've ever read any other web serials, you might've noticed that authors get better with time (that is, their art or writing improves). Wutosama of Metaworld Chronicles noted that the first 20 chaps are always a mess. This is also the case with Apex Predator. The first two parts (ranging just under 30 chapters, or 161 pages) are absolutely subpar. While I have edited them as of 7-10-18, they require a rewrite, which is currently in the works but not complete. For a sample that gives insight into what the latter ~80% of the story's writing style is like, check out chapter 56. Vote for Apex Predator on Top Web Fiction! The Apex Predator Discord is here. Cover: original work done by me, the author, caerulex.
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It has been ten years of peace for the Union since the end of the great war with the eastern barbarian tribes, yet in the cold north of the Union's land, a new threat is looming. This time, an ambitious Lord is seeking to restore the yore pride of his kin, forcing the weakened Union into yet another unwanted war, as he ramps up the ranks of his army with thieves, murderers and mercenaries.* * *The temperature inside the forge was nearly twice as high as the one outside. A black-haired girl hammered a steel ingot into the shape of a blade. The heat of the steam was draining her stamina away, but her focus remained sharp as her sweat streamed down her face. Hit after hit, for hours, the sound of the hammering steel followed the rhythm of her breathing. Exhausted, she placed the blade into the water and wiped the sweat off her face using a drenched rag. Why are they screaming? Vatra dipped the rag back in the water, twisted it, and approached the window. Her mouth opened as her world shattered again into the living nightmare she had wilfully tried to forget. She bit her lips; it wasn’t a dream. The pulse of her heart rose. A cold sweat prickled her back. A mother was running, and a child was screaming. A torrent of smoke was emerging from the roof of her neighbour. Vatra’s eyes blinked. The mother lay on the ground, a spear through her back. A torch circled in the air and landed on the roof of her workshop. In the distance, a man wearing a banner well known to the world… Fateless is a philosophical medieval dark low fantasy centered on war, militaristic campaigns and geopolitical conflicts between multiple empires. This story follows the fate of Vatra, a former slave from the eastern Nar Empire who was raised in a culture far away from her own, forced into warfare against her will, and the fate of Lanaya, an ambitious half-angel exiled from her home whose existence is seen as heresy. As they wished for peace, both chose a path opposed to one another until their fate crossed. In this story where war dictates the law, love strikes them as a poisoned balm to which they grasp for with all their might, as it is in the darkest of times that the smallest flames may burn the brightest. * * * Tome 1 already completed and available on Amazon: https://www.amazon.ca/Fateless-Silver-Hugo-Emmanuel-Simard-Wallot/dp/B09LGSH1KK Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Hugo-Emmanuel-Simard-Wallot-100547579135891/ I will publish 1 chapter per week (sometimes 2 if the chapters are too short for my liking).
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8 134The undead who yearned for life
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