Read Online The Ghost and the Darkness Volume 1 (The Fallocaust Series Book 2) by Quil Carter - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Quil Carter
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was safe... and that everything was going according to whatever new plan he had in his mind.
Chapter 3
Killian
I heard the scraping of his body being moved along the metal floor of the plane. Leaving a streak of blood that ended at the cuffs of his pants. He was partially decapitated, the loose tendons and blood vessels hanging down, not a drip of blood wetting their shredded ends.
I stood over his body. I was in my bedroom and he was crumpled up on my bed. The same position he had frozen into when he died, with the deacon pressing down on his chest and the remains of his neck in the dog’s jaws.
With milky eyes and a blood-soaked muzzle the deacon licked his stained teeth. His lips rose in a snarl.
Reaver’s eyes snapped open. He was lying in bed; I was standing over him, those black spheres glistened like the eyes of a devil.
Then Reaver rose to the sitting position, staring forward without a flicker of life in his eyes. His chest was still and cold, his skin the grey of an overcast sky.
He was still dead.
I shook my head, trying to shake away the growing feeling of unease.
No, no, he’s immortal. He’s alive.
I heard him mumble, but his throat was an open pit of red flesh lined with sinew and ropey veins. He couldn’t speak properly. I could only hear rasping, hissing groans.
I felt myself frozen in place, my feet welded to the spot. I had no choice but to watch him rise to standing and look around the room. A glint of hostility in those obsidian eyes, polished clean but without reflection or even a hint of white.
It wasn’t him... it wasn’t Reaver. It was his body; he was walking and he was moving, but this wasn’t my boyfriend. A different person was in him now.
Was this what it was like? Did the real person not come back?
I felt a bubbling cry form in my throat. I choked on saliva and felt my chest clench and shutter under the sudden gasp of air. I tried to swallow but my mouth was a dried lake.
Reaver was still there; I could smell him near me. His scent, gunpowder and burnt ash combined. The monster was here. My Reaver was dead.
But then I saw light.
I finally saw light.
His touch was so warm... like his hands had been resting over the fireplace; they were so soothing, so gentle. Oh, I had missed him so much. It hadn’t even been that long but it seemed like forever.
So long since we had been in bed together; so long since he had been mine and mine alone. I had to share Reaver with Asher before I killed him, and after that we had been so distracted with the aftermath.
But Reaver was mine... and in my dreams I wrapped my arms around him and let him hold me with every ounce of his strength.
Then I felt lips on me, soft warm lips that pressed up against mine with an urgency I didn’t understand. I accepted them though and opened my mouth for him, feeling his tongue start to find mine inside my mouth.
His hands drew up my sides, before they slid down my pants.
It was then my reality started to slowly creep back to me, and like a cold chunk of ice had landed in my stomach I realized that what was happening to me wasn’t a dream.
With a start my eyes snapped open, and I felt the man continue to kiss me, his hand behind my head drawing me closer and his other one massaging and pulling my dick. It was dark, I couldn’t see a thing, but I knew that smell and I knew that mouth.
I pulled away from Perish with a gasp and a cry, and as soon as I heard his stumbled apology I completely and totally lost my mind.
Then there was screaming from me and apologies from Perish, then a moment later the flick of a light switch to illuminate the transgressions that had just gone on.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I screamed. I picked up the table lamp beside us and threw it at him. It shattered against the wall only half a foot away from his head, showering him with blue ceramic pieces that fell soundlessly onto the floor.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry... you
Chapter 3
Killian
I heard the scraping of his body being moved along the metal floor of the plane. Leaving a streak of blood that ended at the cuffs of his pants. He was partially decapitated, the loose tendons and blood vessels hanging down, not a drip of blood wetting their shredded ends.
I stood over his body. I was in my bedroom and he was crumpled up on my bed. The same position he had frozen into when he died, with the deacon pressing down on his chest and the remains of his neck in the dog’s jaws.
With milky eyes and a blood-soaked muzzle the deacon licked his stained teeth. His lips rose in a snarl.
Reaver’s eyes snapped open. He was lying in bed; I was standing over him, those black spheres glistened like the eyes of a devil.
Then Reaver rose to the sitting position, staring forward without a flicker of life in his eyes. His chest was still and cold, his skin the grey of an overcast sky.
He was still dead.
I shook my head, trying to shake away the growing feeling of unease.
No, no, he’s immortal. He’s alive.
I heard him mumble, but his throat was an open pit of red flesh lined with sinew and ropey veins. He couldn’t speak properly. I could only hear rasping, hissing groans.
I felt myself frozen in place, my feet welded to the spot. I had no choice but to watch him rise to standing and look around the room. A glint of hostility in those obsidian eyes, polished clean but without reflection or even a hint of white.
It wasn’t him... it wasn’t Reaver. It was his body; he was walking and he was moving, but this wasn’t my boyfriend. A different person was in him now.
Was this what it was like? Did the real person not come back?
I felt a bubbling cry form in my throat. I choked on saliva and felt my chest clench and shutter under the sudden gasp of air. I tried to swallow but my mouth was a dried lake.
Reaver was still there; I could smell him near me. His scent, gunpowder and burnt ash combined. The monster was here. My Reaver was dead.
But then I saw light.
I finally saw light.
His touch was so warm... like his hands had been resting over the fireplace; they were so soothing, so gentle. Oh, I had missed him so much. It hadn’t even been that long but it seemed like forever.
So long since we had been in bed together; so long since he had been mine and mine alone. I had to share Reaver with Asher before I killed him, and after that we had been so distracted with the aftermath.
But Reaver was mine... and in my dreams I wrapped my arms around him and let him hold me with every ounce of his strength.
Then I felt lips on me, soft warm lips that pressed up against mine with an urgency I didn’t understand. I accepted them though and opened my mouth for him, feeling his tongue start to find mine inside my mouth.
His hands drew up my sides, before they slid down my pants.
It was then my reality started to slowly creep back to me, and like a cold chunk of ice had landed in my stomach I realized that what was happening to me wasn’t a dream.
With a start my eyes snapped open, and I felt the man continue to kiss me, his hand behind my head drawing me closer and his other one massaging and pulling my dick. It was dark, I couldn’t see a thing, but I knew that smell and I knew that mouth.
I pulled away from Perish with a gasp and a cry, and as soon as I heard his stumbled apology I completely and totally lost my mind.
Then there was screaming from me and apologies from Perish, then a moment later the flick of a light switch to illuminate the transgressions that had just gone on.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I screamed. I picked up the table lamp beside us and threw it at him. It shattered against the wall only half a foot away from his head, showering him with blue ceramic pieces that fell soundlessly onto the floor.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry... you
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