by Erik Lynd
He passed out with a huge smile on his face and his soul cradled in his arms.
32
The hospital room was dark. But not dark enough. Light from the hallway came through the open door, and the light from the machines surrounding Eris lit up the pale form on the bed. The only sounds this late at night were the gentle hum of the computer and the occasional quiet ping from the machines regulating the medicine seeping through the IV.
Slowly, silently the door to the room swung shut on its own, no one had touched it. The darkness behind the door began to coalesce and harden into a human form. At first it was an ill-defined dark mass shifting, changing. Then sharper lines, clarity. It was a man.
Jax stepped from the shadow. He pulled back the curtain, letting the moonlight in. The beams fell across the slight girl on the bed. That was better. He always preferred the light of the moon to artificial light. It held magic and he had always loved that kind of magic.
“I’m sorry this had to happen to you,” Jax said. “It was unavoidable; I had seen it, but that does not make it any less unpleasant.”
Jax leaned forward until he was only inches from Eris’ face. “Such beauty.” He said almost wistfully. “You are so beautiful, daughter.”
His hands touched her shoulder, caressed her neck, then came to rest to either side of her face. He pressed his cheek against hers, feeling her tender flesh against his. His mouth touching lightly against her ear.
“Golyat has almost reached the end of his usefulness,” Jax whispered. “The game is fun, but there has to be an ending. Or at least a pause. I have need of you daughter, you are my greatest creation and it turns out my greatest weapon. You will be my sword, my spear. Love has always been the strongest WMD.”
He kissed her brow gently.
“Here is what I want you to do.”
His tongue lolled out of his mouth, long and thin. It slipped into Eris’s ear and into her brain. Licking its way into her sleeping thoughts and dreams.
Her eyes flew wide open, panic etched in every line in her face.
“Chris… no.” She said. Then she started screaming, and she didn’t stop for a very, very long time.
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Also by Erik Lynd
NOVELS
Asylum
The Collection
THE HAND OF PERDITION SERIES:
Book and Blade
Eater of Souls
The Demon Collector
SILAS ROBB SERIES:
Silas Robb: Of Saints and Sinners
Silas Robb: Hell Hath No Fury
SHORTER WORKS
The Hanging Tree
Dark on the Water
His Devil
Dreams
Siege of the Bone Children
In the Pit
About the Author
Erik Lynd writes novels and short stories primarily in the horror, dark fantasy, and urban fantasy genres. Currently he is in the middle of two ongoing urban fantasy series; Silas Robb and The Hand of Perdition series. He also writes the occasional horror novel such as Asylum and The Collection. He lives in the Pacific Northwest where yes it does rain a lot and no he does not mind it.
For more information…
www.eriklynd.com
[email protected]
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, settings, and dialogue were created by the author and should not be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Rise of the Soulless: Book Four of the Hand of Perdition
by Erik Lynd
Copyright © 2018 Erik Lynd.
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