Read Online Department 19: The Rising by Will Hill - Free Book Online
Authors: Will Hill
Tags: Department 19
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where he was supposed to have ended his days, alone and scared in this place of old horror; he had commanded armies, lain waste to cities and entire countries, walked with kings and emperors. He raged at the darkness that surrounded him, swearing death to whatever had brought him here, cursing his enemies, promising revenge on everyone who had ever wronged him, offering his soul for the chance to see his betrayers cold in the ground.
Nothing happened.
Above him, the stars spun, blooming into life and winking out, as though millions of years were passing in mere seconds. The statues around him stood silent and impassive, staring down at him with empty eyes. The altar remained nothing more than a lump of stone.
Vlad slumped against it, the fire gone from him as quickly as it had arrived.
Why am I here? If not for some devilment, then why? Perhaps I am mad.
You are not mad , whispered the voice he had heard in the clearing. But you are stupid.
Vlad looked around, but still nothing moved inside the silent circle of statues. The voice was cruel, and mocking, and he tried to think what it could mean, why it was questioning his intelligence.His gaze landed on the brown stains atop the altar, and clarity burst through him. He dug the fingers of his right hand into the wound on his arm, tearing the flesh open. Vlad grunted in pain as blood began to run thickly down his arm, coating his hand; he lifted it high above his head, and paused.
If I am not mad, then only damnation awaits me here.
You were damned long ago, hissed the voice, and Vlad knew in his heart that it was right. He flicked his hand, and dark red droplets of his blood pattered across the surface of the altar.
Instantly, the air was full of energy; it crackled round Vlad’s head, lifting his long black hair from his shoulders. He watched the hairs on the backs of his arms stand up, and felt thick, greasy power in his teeth and bones. The statues began to move, rumbling to life on their pedestals, inflicting their tortures on one another in slow, gruesome thrusts, a writhing wall of agonised, abused stone. Before him, the altar began to run with a black liquid that appeared to be bubbling up from the microscopic holes in the stone itself, a thick oil that seemed to absorb light. When the entire surface of the altar was covered, a mouth, impossibly wide, and full of teeth the size and shape of daggers, opened in the liquid, and appeared to smile at him.
“What are you?” asked Vlad, his voice trembling.
You could not hope to understand , replied the mouth. It was the same voice he had been hearing since he had run blindly into what it had referred to as the deep, but now it was smooth, almost friendly. And it does not matter. What matters is that I know what you are.
“What am I?”
A monster. The mouth curled into a wide, awful grin. Capable of cruelty that impresses even one like me. A carrion bird. A parasite. A—
“Enough,” said Vlad, as forcefully as he was able.
The mouth on the altar grinned even wider.
And brave, up to a point. Often to the point of foolishness. Or danger.
“Why did you bring me here?” demanded Vlad.
You brought yourself. Your rage cried out across the deep. I merely lit the way.
“Why?” asked Vlad. “Why, for God’s sake? What do you want from me?”
I want to offer you something. In return for something you haven’t used for a long time.
“What are you talking about?”
Your soul, said the mouth, and bared its teeth. I want your soul. It will amuse me for millennia. And I will pay you handsomely for it.
Vlad stared at the slick surface of the altar. The mouth was still smiling, and he felt his stomach churn.
“What would you offer me?” he asked. “What price could be enough for what you ask?”
I can give you revenge, on everyone who has ever wronged you, or failed you. I can give you life everlasting, that you might hunt your enemies to the end of their days, without ageing, without dying. I can give
Nothing happened.
Above him, the stars spun, blooming into life and winking out, as though millions of years were passing in mere seconds. The statues around him stood silent and impassive, staring down at him with empty eyes. The altar remained nothing more than a lump of stone.
Vlad slumped against it, the fire gone from him as quickly as it had arrived.
Why am I here? If not for some devilment, then why? Perhaps I am mad.
You are not mad , whispered the voice he had heard in the clearing. But you are stupid.
Vlad looked around, but still nothing moved inside the silent circle of statues. The voice was cruel, and mocking, and he tried to think what it could mean, why it was questioning his intelligence.His gaze landed on the brown stains atop the altar, and clarity burst through him. He dug the fingers of his right hand into the wound on his arm, tearing the flesh open. Vlad grunted in pain as blood began to run thickly down his arm, coating his hand; he lifted it high above his head, and paused.
If I am not mad, then only damnation awaits me here.
You were damned long ago, hissed the voice, and Vlad knew in his heart that it was right. He flicked his hand, and dark red droplets of his blood pattered across the surface of the altar.
Instantly, the air was full of energy; it crackled round Vlad’s head, lifting his long black hair from his shoulders. He watched the hairs on the backs of his arms stand up, and felt thick, greasy power in his teeth and bones. The statues began to move, rumbling to life on their pedestals, inflicting their tortures on one another in slow, gruesome thrusts, a writhing wall of agonised, abused stone. Before him, the altar began to run with a black liquid that appeared to be bubbling up from the microscopic holes in the stone itself, a thick oil that seemed to absorb light. When the entire surface of the altar was covered, a mouth, impossibly wide, and full of teeth the size and shape of daggers, opened in the liquid, and appeared to smile at him.
“What are you?” asked Vlad, his voice trembling.
You could not hope to understand , replied the mouth. It was the same voice he had been hearing since he had run blindly into what it had referred to as the deep, but now it was smooth, almost friendly. And it does not matter. What matters is that I know what you are.
“What am I?”
A monster. The mouth curled into a wide, awful grin. Capable of cruelty that impresses even one like me. A carrion bird. A parasite. A—
“Enough,” said Vlad, as forcefully as he was able.
The mouth on the altar grinned even wider.
And brave, up to a point. Often to the point of foolishness. Or danger.
“Why did you bring me here?” demanded Vlad.
You brought yourself. Your rage cried out across the deep. I merely lit the way.
“Why?” asked Vlad. “Why, for God’s sake? What do you want from me?”
I want to offer you something. In return for something you haven’t used for a long time.
“What are you talking about?”
Your soul, said the mouth, and bared its teeth. I want your soul. It will amuse me for millennia. And I will pay you handsomely for it.
Vlad stared at the slick surface of the altar. The mouth was still smiling, and he felt his stomach churn.
“What would you offer me?” he asked. “What price could be enough for what you ask?”
I can give you revenge, on everyone who has ever wronged you, or failed you. I can give you life everlasting, that you might hunt your enemies to the end of their days, without ageing, without dying. I can give
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