Read Online Dusk Territories: Always Burning by Deston Munden - Free Book Online Page B

favor. The master’s power over animals would become irrelevant without said animals. Dagon was probably his favorite, the birds a good secondary. Graham had one weapon, but could use it in a thousand different ways. That weapon would never leave him, until it rested forever.
    He wiped the entrails of the birds from his body, and let his mind calm. He had to admit, he wasn’t used to not having pure adrenaline running through his body. But something had replaced it, something deadly. It was a calmness that you couldn’t achieve with life pulsing through you. Death stayed with him. It cuddled up beside him, kept him safe with its dark black coat and long scythe. His heart never raced, fatigue didn’t course through his veins. It was too good to be true, it had to come with some sort of—
    And he felt it then.
    Graham was hungry. It wasn’t like a normal hunger. His mind and body starved. He fell to his knees, writhing in the abyss of that desire. “What the hell,” he said pushing back the need, only for it to get wider in his attempt. He didn’t want a cooked meal, but something raw, natural, and filled with life. That unnerved him. Why would he want that? That would make him no different than the cannibals. He struggled with the thought a bit more. “You have to survive,” he told himself. Survival had coupled with death as his protectors.
    His mind wandered for a while looking at the dead corpses that Beastmaster’s team was feasting on. He shook his head. He looked to the dismembered bodies of the cannibals. They were undeserving animals.” Graham slammed his fist to the ground. “Damn, you’re not like them. They don’t deserve that, even though they’re pigs.” His fingers graced on one of the black birds, not quite dead. “ Dammit,” he growled. If he didn’t eat something, whatever this blood haze was, this abyss would drive him insane…or kill him.
    With resentment, he grabbed the black bird by the tail. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the futile cheeps from the bird. You have to survive. Don’t think about it. He took his first bite with a horrible crunching sound as he bit into the large breast of the bird. His teeth, crushed through bone, muscle almost too easily from a man of a human jaw. Layers and layers of the flailing creature fell by the sheer strength of his yellowed teeth. The taste was almost euphoric. The flavor was strong; almost intoxicating unlike any food that had ever settled in his stomach. He could taste the pulse of the creature in its stringy meat. It was like he was reliving the creature’s life as he crunched through the body. He could feel it fly, the way it moved, the way it lived throu gh his chewing. Nothing was left after he was done.
    He tore through several more, mind ignoring the dead ones for the living ones before none was left. At the end, he sat back, belly full. The growing abyss in his stomach and brain subsided, giving life renewed back to his body. A pang of guilt accompanied him soon after. He needed life to live. The films never explained that. Maybe because it was fiction and this was Graham’s reality. But he knew, a small part of him knew, that if he didn’t eat he would go mad or die. He didn’t want either of those, especially while people needed him.
    This is just great, he thought getting to his feet. For now he needed to focus. The hostages, right . He needed to save them. That would get his mind off that moment, if for a little while.
    Graham scanned the surroundings again. Ragnar would have taken the stone cave at the rim of the lake. He lumbered to the cave, taking small steps at a time, watching his boots. At least his body wasn’t aching. After every battle with his Marines, he would feel incredibly stiff everywhere down to his ass. It wasn’t that bad minus the horrible hunger part. At least he could just move on. It was a good thought, a satisfying one. “Looks like I won’t be getting old, eh, Private,” Graham said