The Butcher and the Butterfly
Page 27
The beast man chuckled and sounded as if he moved away if only to return.
‘You see I have Grendle and Petra and now Varula. Three down, Sorcerer. Once you are finished Arda will join them. I can already feel myself growing stronger.’
Susie had to leave the conversation as she started breathing heavily and again she tried to struggle free. The pain in her head was matched by a stabbing pain in her stomach and then that pain was surpassed by a ripping sensation on her right side.
‘He is coming, Samson. He is coming and he is hungry.’
We shall leave the mind of Susie and drift above this wretched scene for it is too hard to describe what poor Susie is about to go through.
Her body is sprawled on the floor. She is in a position like the man Jesus himself nailed upon the cross; her massive belly sticking up like a hill rising up from a plain. Her skin is pale and sweaty; her breathing fast and shallow. Blood oozes from between her legs but with her legs closed nothing will be leaving from that way out.
The massive belly begins to move as Susie starts to scream in pain. It is a scream that stays in the room until it is all over. Her skin rips on the right side and then there is an awful snapping sound from somewhere in her chest. Faintly a chewing sound can be heard but it is overshadowed by the screams.
Susie’s belly now seems to be convulsing rapidly; small lumps appear where something is trying to get out. This goes on for minutes and Susie’s breathing almost disappears as the pain sends her over the edge and too a place saved for such victims.
Blood pools upon the dirty floor and with a massive crunch and a tearing of flesh the young baby, the size of an average two year old, rips its way out of Susie and stands wobbly on top of the destroyed belly.
The young child is covered in gore. Blood drips from its chewing mouth. It takes no heed of the two men stood in the room as it drops to the floor and continues to eat its way through the remaining flesh of its dead mother.
Barnabas looked over to the Black Sorcerer; a massive smile upon his face which revealed set of razor sharp teeth. Back in his own land he felt better, complete and not as vulnerable as he was in Rockfall. But more importantly; he was happy.
‘Our General is born, Samson. This one of many. The army has a leader. The young girl has been a good host but her part is almost over.’ The Wretch King looked back over to the baby and watched him a moment longer; eating hungrily on the corpse. He then adds, ‘Off you go Samson. Our army will need weapons. Find those Crankers and let them see that the ancient Seer’s were right. Leave Stephen to gather me the boy. We have all the orbs now and so we must be careful. Great Mother will seek them out and soon I must ask for Arda so that they may be reborn.’
Samson nodded, looked to his King and bowed slightly. He revealed the black Orb Arda and, stroking the glass that holds her, he disappeared leaving no one in the room but the son of Stephen and the Wretch King himself.
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In an abandoned ancient place a rusty old sign marked - Gatwick Airport - groaned back and forth. Samson contemplated his next move. They had the orbs. It had been easier than at first thought but that meant that Arda would have to be given up; sooner rather than later. Too soon for his liking. Samson didn’t want that. Not yet anyway.
He was surrounded by tubular hulks that looked like giant dead birds, their wings consumed by nature their once vibrant colours washed away by the many years of rain. Somewhere near here the ancient weapons, vehicles and war machines sat hidden and dormant. Dormant but not dead. The strange people known only to those that knew as the Crankers made sure that these relics remained of use as one day it was foretold that they would be needed again.
That day was here. But there was a seriously freighting danger in those mines, best that the Watchman goes first, just in case and all that. Samson believed what was best was to begin gathering followers, but not the kind that Barnabas wanted.
Samson looked over as he heard a rustle coming from a nearby bush. His eyes narrowed, trying to see what was making the noise. He leaned forward; his black cloak gathering on the forest floor. The rustling sound continued until a large fat rabbit jumped from behind the bush and into the small open area that Samson was lord over.
The rabbit stopped in its tracks when it saw the human.
Samson waved a loose hand toward the small creature.
The fat rabbit dropped down dead; its fate that of those that stood in his way.
The age of the Wretch King, no scratch that… the age of Samson Little the Black Sorcerer has begun.
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Thank you for reading my book. Please leave a review, good or bad if it does please ya. This is the first in a series of books that will follow the paths of Stephen, Martin and the Black Sorcerer unlocking secrets of a world thousands of years old to them, but of our present time. The next book in this series we will meet up with Stephen as he ventures under the mountain and into the mad clutches of Lud in search for The Boy.
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