Read Online The Wizard Killer - Season One: A Post-Apocalyptic Fantasy Serial by Adam Dreece - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Adam Dreece
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right. Spit’s riding down the side of my face, and my arms and legs are jelly. The only thing I can feel is my heart pounding so hard I can barely breathe.
The sounds of battle are drawing closer, though it’s strange. The only actual voices I hear are that of the leecher and the carnu, no one else.
At one point, one of the carnu screams in pain, and I immediately remember an image of a Wizard’s laboratory, and tables upon tables of strapped down stunted being experimented on. “They’re made… yig, they’re experiments… I was there when they made the first one.” I’m surprised by my own words. Narrowing my eyes, I focus in on the memory as much as I can. My heart skips a beat and I glance about frantically, muttering the truth I finally can grasp, “They were made to hunt and kill rogue wesleks, adepts, and acolytes. Yig me.” I force my body to turn so I can stare at the door. “He’s coming and nothing’s going to stop him.” Gritting my teeth, I force my head up and try to get my upper body to follow suit. “Come on.”
In the doorway are two silhouettes, probably what’s left of the original patrons. Outside, I hear one of the carnu roar and a loud whooshing sound. Whimpers follow.
I’ve only got sensitivity in one finger. Carefully, so as not to get the attention of the patrons who are preparing themselves for the inevitable, I run my finger over my body until I find my short sword. “Oh Mother of Mercy, thank you for still being there,” I mutter. Taking hold of it, I wait. Nothing happens. Blinking desperately, I think about touching the etched markings at the base of the blade again. Taking in a big breath, I get my head up again and watch as my clumsy fingers finally get the job done. With a sigh, I take some healing and pull all the remaining mana out of it, which isn’t much.
As I roll over on to my chest, my body now only feeling like I’ve been in a bad bar fight, I hear the wood crunch at the doorway. Glancing up, I swallow hard. The scarred carn is staring past the two patrons and right at me.
episode sixteen
One of the silhouettes raises his pistol at the scarred carn. It reaches out with its muscular clawed arm and takes hold of him. The old man struggles and then goes up in flames in the carn’s iron grip. The doorway and wall catch fire while he burns. Giving the smoldering corpse a shake for good measure, the carn then throws the remains into the corner.
As the other patron backs away, I realize it’s one of the cloaked women from the card game. She’s holding two long, serrated blades in her hands and is shifting her weight back and forth trying to find an opening.
The carn shifts its attention to her and takes two more steps into the bar. Pushing its shoulders down, I watch in disbelief as its mage-head rises up on a black and spiny tendril. Panic runs rampant through me, and I start shaking my hands and feet violently to get them to wake the yig up!
The mage-head moves like a serpent, floating three feet from the body, which is taking steps to counter each one taken by the woman.
When the yig did carn get the ability to do that? Why didn’t it do that before? I glance about. It must be the confined space. Yig me. “Come on, get up!” I tell my fumbling body as I try to get everything in place to stand.
The carn starts emitting a disturbing clicking sound from its chest. It’s out of synch with the movements of the skull. It’s dizzying, making it hard to think. I focus on the floor and try to block it out. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a shadow growing behind the carn. A nervous chuckle escapes me as I try to imagine who would be so foolish as to approach a carn.
Finally, I get myself up to a kneeling position, thankful that the carn hasn’t taken notice yet. I see my pistol several feet away, on the floor under a chair. Even if I could get to it, I don’t know if I have enough mana to do anything. I know I’ve got some from my sword, but I
The sounds of battle are drawing closer, though it’s strange. The only actual voices I hear are that of the leecher and the carnu, no one else.
At one point, one of the carnu screams in pain, and I immediately remember an image of a Wizard’s laboratory, and tables upon tables of strapped down stunted being experimented on. “They’re made… yig, they’re experiments… I was there when they made the first one.” I’m surprised by my own words. Narrowing my eyes, I focus in on the memory as much as I can. My heart skips a beat and I glance about frantically, muttering the truth I finally can grasp, “They were made to hunt and kill rogue wesleks, adepts, and acolytes. Yig me.” I force my body to turn so I can stare at the door. “He’s coming and nothing’s going to stop him.” Gritting my teeth, I force my head up and try to get my upper body to follow suit. “Come on.”
In the doorway are two silhouettes, probably what’s left of the original patrons. Outside, I hear one of the carnu roar and a loud whooshing sound. Whimpers follow.
I’ve only got sensitivity in one finger. Carefully, so as not to get the attention of the patrons who are preparing themselves for the inevitable, I run my finger over my body until I find my short sword. “Oh Mother of Mercy, thank you for still being there,” I mutter. Taking hold of it, I wait. Nothing happens. Blinking desperately, I think about touching the etched markings at the base of the blade again. Taking in a big breath, I get my head up again and watch as my clumsy fingers finally get the job done. With a sigh, I take some healing and pull all the remaining mana out of it, which isn’t much.
As I roll over on to my chest, my body now only feeling like I’ve been in a bad bar fight, I hear the wood crunch at the doorway. Glancing up, I swallow hard. The scarred carn is staring past the two patrons and right at me.
episode sixteen
One of the silhouettes raises his pistol at the scarred carn. It reaches out with its muscular clawed arm and takes hold of him. The old man struggles and then goes up in flames in the carn’s iron grip. The doorway and wall catch fire while he burns. Giving the smoldering corpse a shake for good measure, the carn then throws the remains into the corner.
As the other patron backs away, I realize it’s one of the cloaked women from the card game. She’s holding two long, serrated blades in her hands and is shifting her weight back and forth trying to find an opening.
The carn shifts its attention to her and takes two more steps into the bar. Pushing its shoulders down, I watch in disbelief as its mage-head rises up on a black and spiny tendril. Panic runs rampant through me, and I start shaking my hands and feet violently to get them to wake the yig up!
The mage-head moves like a serpent, floating three feet from the body, which is taking steps to counter each one taken by the woman.
When the yig did carn get the ability to do that? Why didn’t it do that before? I glance about. It must be the confined space. Yig me. “Come on, get up!” I tell my fumbling body as I try to get everything in place to stand.
The carn starts emitting a disturbing clicking sound from its chest. It’s out of synch with the movements of the skull. It’s dizzying, making it hard to think. I focus on the floor and try to block it out. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a shadow growing behind the carn. A nervous chuckle escapes me as I try to imagine who would be so foolish as to approach a carn.
Finally, I get myself up to a kneeling position, thankful that the carn hasn’t taken notice yet. I see my pistol several feet away, on the floor under a chair. Even if I could get to it, I don’t know if I have enough mana to do anything. I know I’ve got some from my sword, but I
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