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Authors: Sam Cheever
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remotely human lived in the city any longer. And nothing even vaguely monstrous avoided it. Including the wide variety of monsters that had happened as a result of radiation poisoning.
Any humans who’d survived the radiation had been altered beyond recognition by the poisoned air and most of the wild animals were transformed. That didn’t even include the magical monsters who, sensing an opportunity to build their own little monster paradise in the world, had flocked to La Cité des Muertas after the bombing.
The inhabitants of the city recognized no governing bodies. No rules, no moral restrictions and no sense of self-control guided them. Without any sort of police presence, it was pure anarchy.
Anarchy among monsters was not a pretty thing.
Aside from Edwige, who was surrounded by her own army of monsters, Ardith and Draigh were most likely the only humanoid creatures in the entire city. They were weaker, less biologically equipped for battle, and less psychologically equipped to deal with what they were going to see there. To the creatures living in the dead city, they were considered a subspecies—little more than meals with heels.
Fun times.
The buildings over the largest part of the city were mostly rubble. Here and there, a single-story building was still standing and the debris had been cleared away from the front so that whatever lived inside the space could move around more easily.
The roads were impassible, with huge chunks of asphalt missing and the remainder split and upended from the earthquakes that had followed the bombs.
The stench of death was nearly overwhelming.
Carcasses littered the streets and spilled from some type of narrow, three-wheeled vehicles that had obviously been engineered to maneuver through the shattered streets and sidewalks.
Draigh reached over and grabbed her arm, halting her as the shadows ahead of them shifted and spit several malformed shapes onto the sidewalk.
Even in the low light of the only unbroken street light a half block away, it was easy to see that the creatures stalking toward them were unlike anything they’d ever seen before.
Built like gargoyles, with oversized heads and canine teeth like tusks, the creatures were hairless, shiny with some kind of oily substance, and left bubbling trails of drool behind as they moved toward Draigh and Ardith.
Enormous claws clanked against the concrete of a broken sidewalk and an impossible girth of muscles bunched when they walked. Their foreheads looked swollen with no gleam beneath, where the eyes should have been. The creatures’ wet snouts moved constantly, their large pointed ears twitched, but they had no eyes to see with.
Ardith grimaced. “What are those things?”
“If I’m not mistaken, they used to be hell hounds. Before they were irradiated.”
There were three of them and as they approached they spread out, obviously hoping to surround Ardith and Draigh.
Draigh pulled his knives. “This will be a quick kill.”
Ardith frowned. “How do you know?”
“Because if we don’t kill them right away, we’re dead. If they bite us, we’re dead. If they scratch us, we’re dead.”
Ardith lifted her hands, calling her magic forward. “I’ll just zap them with witch fire then.”
He shook his head, turning to press his back against hers. They seemed to spend a lot of time that way. “Nay. They’re formed from radioactive waste. A little magic fire will just piss them off.”
The three hounds had positioned themselves equidistant around Draigh and Ardith, looking as if they’d used the maneuver before. Their eerie, eyeless faces were pointed toward the two mages as if they could see and their nostrils flared and pinched constantly, scenting their prey.
“Okay, drama queen. Then how do we kill these things?”
Draigh sighed, handing her a knife. “The old-fashioned way. One slice across the neck, removing their heads. And don’t get any of their blood on you.”
“Has anyone ever told you
Any humans who’d survived the radiation had been altered beyond recognition by the poisoned air and most of the wild animals were transformed. That didn’t even include the magical monsters who, sensing an opportunity to build their own little monster paradise in the world, had flocked to La Cité des Muertas after the bombing.
The inhabitants of the city recognized no governing bodies. No rules, no moral restrictions and no sense of self-control guided them. Without any sort of police presence, it was pure anarchy.
Anarchy among monsters was not a pretty thing.
Aside from Edwige, who was surrounded by her own army of monsters, Ardith and Draigh were most likely the only humanoid creatures in the entire city. They were weaker, less biologically equipped for battle, and less psychologically equipped to deal with what they were going to see there. To the creatures living in the dead city, they were considered a subspecies—little more than meals with heels.
Fun times.
The buildings over the largest part of the city were mostly rubble. Here and there, a single-story building was still standing and the debris had been cleared away from the front so that whatever lived inside the space could move around more easily.
The roads were impassible, with huge chunks of asphalt missing and the remainder split and upended from the earthquakes that had followed the bombs.
The stench of death was nearly overwhelming.
Carcasses littered the streets and spilled from some type of narrow, three-wheeled vehicles that had obviously been engineered to maneuver through the shattered streets and sidewalks.
Draigh reached over and grabbed her arm, halting her as the shadows ahead of them shifted and spit several malformed shapes onto the sidewalk.
Even in the low light of the only unbroken street light a half block away, it was easy to see that the creatures stalking toward them were unlike anything they’d ever seen before.
Built like gargoyles, with oversized heads and canine teeth like tusks, the creatures were hairless, shiny with some kind of oily substance, and left bubbling trails of drool behind as they moved toward Draigh and Ardith.
Enormous claws clanked against the concrete of a broken sidewalk and an impossible girth of muscles bunched when they walked. Their foreheads looked swollen with no gleam beneath, where the eyes should have been. The creatures’ wet snouts moved constantly, their large pointed ears twitched, but they had no eyes to see with.
Ardith grimaced. “What are those things?”
“If I’m not mistaken, they used to be hell hounds. Before they were irradiated.”
There were three of them and as they approached they spread out, obviously hoping to surround Ardith and Draigh.
Draigh pulled his knives. “This will be a quick kill.”
Ardith frowned. “How do you know?”
“Because if we don’t kill them right away, we’re dead. If they bite us, we’re dead. If they scratch us, we’re dead.”
Ardith lifted her hands, calling her magic forward. “I’ll just zap them with witch fire then.”
He shook his head, turning to press his back against hers. They seemed to spend a lot of time that way. “Nay. They’re formed from radioactive waste. A little magic fire will just piss them off.”
The three hounds had positioned themselves equidistant around Draigh and Ardith, looking as if they’d used the maneuver before. Their eerie, eyeless faces were pointed toward the two mages as if they could see and their nostrils flared and pinched constantly, scenting their prey.
“Okay, drama queen. Then how do we kill these things?”
Draigh sighed, handing her a knife. “The old-fashioned way. One slice across the neck, removing their heads. And don’t get any of their blood on you.”
“Has anyone ever told you
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