PALADIN RISING
KRISTELL CARNIE
PALADIN RISING BY KRISTELL CARNIE
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED BY AUTHOR
Copyright © 2016 by Kristell Carnie
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This is work of fiction and the views expressed herein are the sole responsibility of the author. All characters appearing in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is not intended and purely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced, re-sold or transmitted electronically or otherwise, without express written permission from the author.
Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Cover designed by AMYGDALA DESIGN
Copyright © 2016 Amygdala Design
Please note this novel is written by a New Zealand author, spelling differs considerably to American spelling. Thank you.
Table of Contents:
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Epilogue
Acknowledgements:
Note from the author:
For my angels, Piper and Kyan,
you fill my days with laughter, my nights with serenity and my life with unconditional love.
Prologue
Screaming.
That’s all I can hear, filling my ears, embedded like shards of glass in my brain, taunting me even in the pitiful moments of sleep.
The sound of people, some I know, some friends, others strangers, all screaming until their throats are raw, savaged from the constant torture ripping them apart.
I can’t watch anymore. Can’t witness the inhumane acts of these vile creatures tormenting us, using us for their own sick, sadistic thrills and only when our human bodies can no longer withstand the brutality, which has been forced upon us one by one, do they finally allow us our freedom, taking our lives in a brutal blow merely so they can devour our remains for their own sustenance.
I can’t watch anymore, because there is no one else left.
I am next.
Chapter One
I sit in the far corner of the metal cage, my back pressing heavily into the bars in a feeble attempt to put as much distance between me and whatever is out there.
I know they are coming for me, it won’t be long now. It’s been almost two days since my remaining cellmate was taken, and I have learnt from experience over the last few weeks that I have been trapped here in this dismal land, that once the screaming finally ceases the creatures quickly get restless, needing their entertainment.
Lucky me, or should I say lucky them, whatever the hell they are, I’m not one to handle pain, even in my stubborn state, I doubt I can remain silent for much longer.
I know I’m not going to survive, that much is obvious and it’s foolish to even hope to come out of this alive. I am weak; they have made sure of that by starving us, breaking whatever sleep we may fall into and keeping us constantly on edge.
Hell, after what I have witnessed, it’s quite possible that my strained heart might do me a favour and just give out. Right now a heart attack would be the merciful way to go. But since there is no mercy in this barren, rock covered, fiery hellhole, I know I won’t get an easy death.
No, being the last toy they have left, means they will let the torture linger, spreading it out to maximise their enjoyment.
My body won’t be able to handle much more, but it is my mind I expect to give out first. There is only so much a person can take, a limit to one’s own sanity. That’s why I have to act quickly – no hesitation.
Some others have attempted to run away, to escape into the rocky crevices which surround us. None have been successful.
I’m not that stupid. Escape is not what I want. There is no point in even entertaining the possibility. Even if I did somehow manage to get away, where would I go? For miles in every direction it is bare land, no trees, no water, just rocks, lots of rocks in every shape and size and all of them incredibly sharp. That’s where my hopes lay, in those bountiful rocks.
For the last of my days, my body will only know torture and torment beyond anything I have ever experienced before, but I can still save my mind. If only I can get to the rocks, I can end my own life and never have to see their hideous faces again.
I know I can do it. I am fast when I have the energy, faster than these monsters. Their cumbersome size holds unparalleled strength, yet it is also at their disadvantage. All that muscle weighs them down, making them slower, less agile.
My real fear is that one of them will use their brains and change, transforming into the human shape, to capture me. I know it is possible; they can change their physical appearance at will. It’s how my friends and I were captured in the first place. They fooled us, played on our inbuilt human desire to help others in an emergency.
I had been leaving the movies with four of my friends, walking back to the car, enjoying a laugh, when a teenage girl came rushing out of an alley, yelling and beckoning for us to help her brother who was trapped in a car and having a seizure.
Only when we got to the car there was no brother, well not the human variety at least. The girl, who we had trusted and willingly followed, transformed in front of our very eyes, into the creatures that had held us captive for weeks.
They had moved quickly, using our shock to their advantage. Before we had time to react, it was over, their talon-like fingernails stabbed into our necks, piercing our skin and injecting a type of poison which inhabited our bodies, basically making us paralysed, useless in any way.
I don’t remember anything that happened after that, not how we got here or even how long I was unconscious for, before coming to in this impenetrable cage with over a dozen others.
The others were as confused as I was, and scared out of our minds, though I had learnt faster than any of them. I tried to warn my friends, to get them to stay quiet. The creatures seemed to favour the noisy. The people who screamed out, yelled or demanded to be released or simply cried in fear, they were the first to go.
I kept my mouth shut, kept my suffering deep inside, never once uttering a sound within earshot of the creatures. My friends had tried, really they did, but in the end, their fear had taken over and even as, one by one, they were taken from me, I kept my lips sealed, my anguish buried deep inside.
Their screams had been the worst to endure. I had retreated to a space inside my mind, a place which protected me and kept me going, even though it turned me into a callous monster of my own.
None of it matters anymore. Soon I will join my friends. Quiet or screaming, the end is always the same. Death seems like a distant mirage. I have tried so hard to stay alive and yet now all I can think of is ending it all.
If only I could take down one of these creatures with me, to cause them a shred of pain, any pain, would be a small satisfaction.
Which one would I pick? I let my eyes wander beyond my enclosure, something I rarely do. It is never wise to make eye contact with them; it seems to f
uel their appetite, not to mention it makes me as queasy as hell.
There is something wrong with their eyes. Where an iris should be coloured, theirs are completely black with a fully white pupil. Mix that in with no eyebrows, pencil thin lips barely concealing a mass of razor-sharp, grey teeth and deathly white skin that is basically translucent, pulled so tightly over their enlarged heads causing deep purple veins to protrude, it is a pretty grotesque picture.
My eyes land on one in particular, the one who seems to give the orders, who the others try to please, though that seems an impossibility. Even from this distance I can see the blood running through his veins beneath that paper thin skin. His muscles flex at random, eager to tear something – anything - apart as long as they can be inflicting pain.
He is definitely the one in charge and he is utterly cruel, yes, but he isn’t the one my heart fears the most. My eyes flick to the chilling creature beside him, hanging back in the shadows, never giving orders, yet more menacing than any of the others.
He appears the same as the rest, their physical resemblance is very similar although he is lacking somewhat in height. There is more to this creature than the others. I can see his mind is always on alert, always calculating the next round of torture. I have learnt his name, though I have never dared to utter it.
If I ever get the chance, I will scream it with my last dying breath as I slash his evil heart from his chest.
Garvien.
***
I startle awake, my chest seized in automatic fear, as every muscle in my body constricts with tension. My body can sense a change even before my mind can register the difference.
It’s like that feeling you get in the middle of the night, those few fleeting seconds of warning where your body wakes, fully alert, knowing something bad is about to happen, right before the earth starts shaking. It’s an unwelcome sensation, similar to falling, when your stomach bottoms out and leaves you shaken. This is worse though, a million times worse, because I know exactly what is to follow.
I keep my head down, my filthy, long brunette hair falling across my face, allowing me to peek through the oily tendrils and catch a glimpse of the creature shuffling its way towards my cage.
I have known this moment was coming, I have planned for it, gone over and over my necessary actions in the following minutes of my life with precise detail, yet my mind still revolts at the prospect that it is actually about to happen.
My time is up.
Humid sulphuric air fills my lungs as I try to steady my erratic heart. I should be happy, happy that I am finally going to escape this hellhole, finally going to die and relieve my tortured mind of the constant reel of horror which passes my eyes every minute that I am here. I should be a lot of things that I am not.
Goosebumps rise across my skin as the creature’s inhuman eyes slowly scour my dirt encrusted body. Its powerful hands effortlessly twisting open the lock I have no chance of opening.
I know the drill. There is no point wasting my energy cowering in the corner or charging out like a wounded bull. I stand slowly, using the time to stretch out my joints and warm my muscles - a stiff body won’t be able to react fast enough when the time is right.
His dry lips pull back over dozens of razor sharp, greyish teeth in a silent warning to hurry up. I don’t stall any longer. Stepping forward he leans his grotesque puckered face in towards my neck, inhaling deeply, a slight shudder twitching his muscles as he emits an almost purr like sound.
Apparently that’s a good sign, means I’m extra tasty. Maybe that is the real reason I have been left until last – I’m the dessert.
He doesn’t bother to shackle me for the short distance, his arrogance expecting me to just go along with what is about to happen. He doesn’t class me as a threat. Why would he? I’m tiny compared to him. My five-foot-two-inch petite structure is futile against a near seven-foot colossal monster.
This is the first time I’ve been let out of the cage since arriving, and against all rationality, I find myself yearning for the safety of the familiar enclosure.
Broken rock beneath my bare feet causes me to stumble; the creatures hand shoots out lightning fast, his sausage like fingers digging into my forearm to save me from falling.
I freeze, every muscle a statue, lips clenched tight not letting a sound escape. Even in this extreme heat, a cold sweat breaks out over my skin as I feel his unnatural eyes probing me, waiting for some type of reaction. I keep my head down until he releases me and keeps walking, expecting me to trail along like a good little sheep.
My eyes scavenge over the loose rock, eager to find one sharp enough to do some damage, if not to them, than at least to me. My heart tightens, constricting with growing fear, as I realise they are all useless, their edges rounded from years of trampling.
Sweat trickles down my cheek, leaving a mud-streaked path. The heat here is nearly unbearable even though the sun only grazes us. The unnatural warmth emits from the ground, radiating up in waves, draining my energy and leaving me exhausted, though it doesn’t seem to affect the creatures in any way.
An overwhelming sense of unease rattles my stomach and I unwittingly glance up to meet Garvien’s gaze. A mere look from him makes my skin crawl and I have to force back down the acidic bile which spills into my parched mouth.
He keeps his eyes on me, watching our approach, never once moving while the others start forward, now eager for the upcoming show.
I hadn’t expected this, to be encircled by so many of them. It seems being the last attraction is exciting stuff, bringing forth more creatures than before. There are barely any gaps between them to allow me a chance to get passed to initiate my plan, and they can close those small gaps easily, as soon as I make a move.
Real fear sends my heart thumping against my aching chest, awakening the part of my mind which had escaped into numb hibernation. What little hope I have to end my life swiftly, is vanishing with each joining creature.
We come to a stop in front of a large, flat slab of rock, so covered in dried blood it is almost black. I know what inconceivable actions have occurred on this rock, I’ve seen first-hand the brutality of these creatures using it as their platform of torture. Bits of hair and flesh still cling to it and I can’t help but wonder what remains of mine will be left to adorn this rock of death.
It doesn’t take long for the heckling to begin. Words I can’t understand, nor want to, are shouted at me, taunts I can’t begin to imagine spew from their bared mouths in an attempt to rile me up. An upset or angry hostage is much more exciting than a docile one.
When I don’t react, the yelling increases. Soon my skin stings as bits of rock are hurled at me, not enough to do any real damage, only enough to pierce my skin, sending blood trickling down my arms. They just want a reaction, any reaction.
I refuse to cooperate, to give them any kind of pleasure. My hate for these monsters gives me the strength to remain silent. Keeping my head down and mouth shut, only angers them further. It gives me a small amount of satisfaction knowing that I’m annoying them, unwilling to be their play thing.
My pleasure is quickly cut short when my heart begins to pound out a new rhythm as their leader makes his entrance.
The creatures are silenced instantly, no disrespect can be shown in front of their King or they themselves will be on the rock of death.
Veridom takes his place on his throne, a huge black rock smoothed down until it shines, placed in the prime position for viewing pleasure.
He is the largest of all the creatures, easily hitting well over seven foot; his fists alone are bigger than my head. The veins flowing beneath his translucent skin bulge out, pulsating as his excitement grows.
My eyes flicker closed and for the briefest of moments I allow myself to remember before. Before I was brought here, when I had a family and friends who were alive and well. Before, when I didn’t know such suffering. Before, when I didn’t wish for my own death.
All of that is gone now. Taken by cr
eatures I hadn’t even known existed and wholly wished I had never found out.
I allow the pity to consume me, the hatred for these creatures to fuel my anguish and let the grief, reawakened by my impending death, to give me the strength I will need to die on my terms.
My eyes snap open as the roars around me begin to grow at a frenzied rate. Veridom is standing, making his way slowly towards me.
The show is about to start.
Chapter Two
Every part of me aches, burning with pain I have never before experienced. My skin, split in more places than I can possibly count, bleeds, seeping out onto the heated rocks I now lay upon.
Veridom started the beating, taking his large fist and belting me across the face, sending me reeling back into the mob. My eye had swollen shut almost instantly, effectively distorting my vision and halving my chances to see a much-needed weapon.
The others had started in immediately, their purr of happiness echoing in all directions like a death march as they advanced, taking turns to beat me, dragging my limp, useless body across the biting ground, before throwing me around like a rag doll.
My left arm is badly broken, laying at an odd angle in such a way it should make my stomach heave, but I don’t care, it is my right arm that I need to be strong and useable.
They had grown tired with my inability to fight back and my unrelenting refusal to defend myself, as I lay there face down, drifting in and out of consciousness.
Blood drips from my nose into my mouth, the salty taste moistening my parched lips and making my stomach roll with nausea. I clamp my lips shut, refusing to vomit, not knowing if I will survive the agony of my broken ribs.
Half of me wants to give up, just to lie here until they finally drag my beaten and broken body to the rock and kill me, but the other half, the stronger, more stubborn half of myself, refuses to die by their hand.
Paladin Rising (The Paladin's Curse Book 1) Page 1