Sisters of the
Dawn's Early Light
A Mystical Slayer Novella (Prequel)
- By Michael W. Huard
Legend says that in mankind’s fallen hour, a hero will rise.
In our story it shall be a sisterhood of kick butt women.
Table of Contents
Dedication
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
Personal note from Mike:
About the Author:
Copyright © Michael W. Huard 2018
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
The novel is entirely a work of fiction Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. For requests, information, and more contact Michael W. Huard at [email protected].
Available in ebook and print.
First edition: 2018
Dedication
This story is dedicated to those people who never give up easily in life. We as humans are only alive for so long; sooner or later we all turn to dust. So to those who make the best of it, to all who keep bringing a smile to everyone around them; thank you for making the world a better place.
Prologue
A very young, small and pretty red-headed girl was nestled in her bed. She was safe this evening, deep in the sisterhood’s sacred sanctuary.
Then suddenly, she heard a voice; the voice was calm, soothing, and very clear. “Child, I very seldom speak to anyone, for I prefer my voice to be only universal. But be assured, I am with you always. With me by your side, you will undoubtedly change the world.”
The child was instantly awake, but she also felt like she was sleeping, perhaps dreaming. When she finally came to her senses, not a whole lot had changed in her private little room. She had a small bed next to where the other little girls were still sleeping.
The sisterhood was out at a training tournament. The young girl pondered her experiences and the voice that had spoken to her, but as no one was nearby, she kept such thoughts and visions to herself.
***
They are said to be the best in their class, and in truth, these women are the last hope amidst a ruthless, war-torn former nation. The year is 3015; advanced technology, robotics, and a power-hungry mongrel known as President Arn Marcou rule the entire country. The Y-Wood Corporation, his entity, is a so-called boys' club for the rich and upper echelon of society. The Mystical Slayers are out to put an end to his reign and bring back freedom to the land.
In order to earn enough funds to carry on as freedom fighters, all the women had day jobs, but in a savage landscape with danger and suffering around every street corner, our sisters have never had an ordinary day.
Hand-picked and bred to be elite, each young girl was designed and produced to be beautiful and intelligent, and each was administered a super drug called Starigen 6280 either before birth or as a young child. This highly secret formula, if maintained and taken regularly, made each of them stronger, faster, and more resilient than any other human in existence.
You have to believe in the good in people, which is something these ladies often say. Liberty is not given these days, it is taken, and this is their story.
Chapter One
Chaya was almost back in New York when her train suddenly came to a stop. This was not an area where any such stop, be it brief or otherwise, was supposed to be made. The fit and attractive brown-haired woman peered out of a side window in confusion.
A decent-sized posse of horsemen was out there, all brandishing weapons. How they got the train to stop was as yet unknown to her. The woman inside pondered her next move. Today, she had the look of a studious type. She wore glasses and had her brown hair with red highlights tied back in a ponytail. She was returning from her trip via a more western part of New York City. She was incognito and dressed in a simple rose-colored skirt and brown blouse. Chaya waited in hope that this stop had nothing to do with her.
There was a meeting at the side of the train, and some sort of a deal was made before too much commotion began. Then the sound of a sky patrol vessel erupted above, and Corporation watchers were already in the vicinity. The posse outside were now at a heavy disadvantage. Seeing them scrambling about out there, she realized they must not work for Y-Wood. Chaya was, for once in her life, glad to see those sky drones make an appearance.
Someone unexpectedly pushed open her cabin door. He was a dark-haired man with a matching thick, black mustache, wearing a beret of crimson red and holding a cigar in his mouth. He blew smoke into her cabin and took on a serious demeanor with a raspy voice. “Cabin check,” he blurted out. Chaya studied his attire, including his regular dark clothing, the sword on his side, and the brass knuckles on his right hand. He again blew smoke her way. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing all alone?” Chaya was about to explain and make up a story, but he rushed at her before she had the chance.
He attempted to punch her directly in the face, but she dodged left and his hand slammed into the metal train siding. Still sitting, Chaya stomped hard on his foot and jumped up to get behind him. He hardly felt her hit and turned about as mad as hell, yelling at the frisky girl before him. “Don’t be stupid, you little twat.” Chaya had to keep an eye on his right hand, as the metal band there would surely knock her out with a single blow. Again, he came at her. “You’re coming with me, spoils of this raid,” he demanded as Chaya tried to move from his grasp.
She banged into a wall as she circled left, and he swung once more at her face. This time, she ducked his hooked punch and struck her knee hard into his liver. He felt his abdomen wincing in pain. “Leave me alone,” Chaya cried out as she made for the door to get out of the cabin. Her attacker leaped at her and grabbed her ponytail, stopping her escape as he yanked his captive towards him.
Instinctively, Chaya also grabbed her ponytail to stop most of his pulling power. She then swung her right arm over his arm and twisted to lock his elbow below her armpit. She drove down with all she had, and he hit the floor hard under her. He was a tough bastard and even with an injured, perhaps torn shoulder, he fought his way back up to his knees while still punching and striking out at Chaya.
She backed up as he rose to his feet and pulled his sword free. He leveled it at Chaya. “I have had enough of you. Stop fighting me or I will cut you dry.”
Chaya put her hands up as if to surrender. “What is it that you want with me?”
The red beret-wearing soldier licked his lips as he snarled his reply, “Me and the boys outside are going to share that sexy little body of yours. What the fuck do you think I want?”
Chaya took a long breath. “Alright, just relax, I will come with you.”
The sword-holding guy smiled, “That’s more like it, come on now…come with me. You first, slowly walk down the hall ahead of me.”
That’s not what Chaya did. She was not the obedient type. In fact, she was a Mystical Slayer, a well-trained freedom fighter, as Mr. Red-Cap was about to find out.
Chaya ran up on the seat to the side of them and leaped foot first into this dude’s face. Her sidekick smashed him solidly in the mouth, and his jaw instantly exploded
into fleshy pieces. He slammed back into the wall and fell to the floor, dropping his sword. Chaya regretfully caught her landing foot on the side of the train seat and twisted her ankle. However, it didn't stop her from picking up the now free sword and pointing it at the dazed man on the floor.
He looked up at her. “You friggin' hag! Do it…go ahead, drive it home!” Chaya thought of what to do next. She was not a killer; she preferred peace to war. He then spat on her, laughing. “You haven’t got the guts,” he added. “I’ll find another sexy baby doll on the next train, one not as wild as you. She will make the boys happy! Ha!” he snorted.
Without a second thought, Chaya sliced his throat. He gurgled like he was trying to talk even more shit, but too much blood was spurting out of his mouth for him to get the words out.
Chaya snapped out of her thoughts. She looked down at the bleeding man, and part of her wanted to do as she had just envisioned, but she decided against it. Shouts were heard outside calling for him by name. “Groudo, Max, where the hell are you? We have to move out!” Chaya took one last look at the ugly, beret-wearing mustache man and then turned and bolted to escape the train. She would have to walk the rest of the way back home, bad ankle or not, and she would be careful to avoid the horsemen posse too.
As she rounded a train car, she peered over and saw a large bandit-like group preparing to head out. One of the men approached another woman that the men must have dragged off the train. Obviously, he was not happy. He smacked the terrified woman across the face. "Let’s get out of here," he yelled. "Those flyers have spotted us. Take the prisoners and ride!” he added.
***
It was tournament day for all the women in the sisterhood. Once a year, top members gathered in New York to rumble on the mats. Today it had come down to eight women, and the quarterfinals were about to begin.
Raegan was an undercover reporter and the sisterhood’s brainchild. She was a straight-haired blond with excellent fighting skills. Her buddy, Mahira, was the tournament favorite and an actual gladiator in the death match circuit. She was small in height, but as rugged and tough as anyone around. Then there was Sinaye, a dark-haired beauty, a robotics scientist yet still a heck of a fighter. Also in the quarterfinals were Jansa, a curly-haired blond doctor, who had learned and perfected more moves than anyone else here; Zaey, a pretty brown-eyed Australian with judo talent like no other, and Chaya, a brownish-haired inspirational speaker with a smooth fighting prowess and very notable diamond studs on her cheeks. And we cannot forget Blu, a wild and feisty flying ship captain who never backed down to anyone, and Envy, the confident red-headed spy with a talent for winning her fights with sneaky leg locks. Each woman had won their previous matches and was now gathered together.
The next round of matches began.
Raegan matched up with Envy, and the two locked horns in the center of the matted surface. “You’re not going to get me in one of your fun-loving leg locks,” Raegan spoke to her friend. Envy smiled and tried to take her pal's back, but the sisterhood’s leader blocked her before she got very far. Envy then shot in low and grabbed Raegan’s leg. Raegan twisted back and pushed Envy’s head down while yanking her leg free.
Envy pranced about with a smile. “Almost had you there, big sis,” she proudly announced.
This time, Raegan went on the attack. She pulled Envy forward, and as her sister resisted the tug she drove back in and swept the red-head's back leg out, sending Envy to her back. Raegan got on top of her opponent and immediately grabbed an arm. She then stepped over Envy’s head and put on a nice cross body, pelvis-administered arm bar. Envy tapped and the match was over. Both laughed at their playful contest.
None of the women left in the event would overdo their fighting, as all were good friends.
Jansa and Zaey were next. Zaey, known for her excellent throwing technique, got just what she wanted as she swooped under Jansa’s front arm and tossed her over her shoulder onto the mat. Zaey tried to get on top, but Jansa with a 'that was a sweet throw' grin, slid back and got her legs wrapped around her friend’s waist. “Nice throw,” she complemented.
Zaey answered, “Yeah, I knew that would work. Now I've just got to deal with your spider-like legs!”
Jansa grinned again and spun under one of Zaey’s knees while trapping her sister’s forward arm across her body. She then swept her friend over and rolled on top. From the top, she bent Zaey’s arm in a curved upright position, making her fellow sister tap out from such a tight chicken-wing lock.
Zaey smiled and hugged her fellow sister. “Nice lock, girl. Thanks for the fight.” Jansa winked at her and both left the mat.
Chaya was up next versus Mahira. “Oh great,” she said with a frown as she looked at the little firecracker of a gladiator before her. “I was hoping to not meet you until the finals.”
Mahira put her hands out in 'sorry' sort of gesture. She said, “Do your best…you might even beat me!”
Chaya figured there was always a chance and took her fighting posture ready to go. However, her ankle was still darn sore from the earlier escapade on the train and all the pre-fights. In truth, she was in a great deal of pain, but she had never been a quitter.
The girls grabbed each other around the neck and struggled for prime position. Mahira snapped Chaya’s head low and got to her side. She pushed Chaya forward, and as her friend pushed back to keep her balance, Mahira tossed her to her backside.
Chaya let out a moan. “Ahh, that was not so bright!”
Mahira moved to her pal’s side and jumped up, placing a hard knee into Chaya’s stomach. Chaya turned in and brought her leg and knee in the way, but Mahira grabbed the leg and stepped over it, landing on her side and executing a killer knee bar. Chaya quickly tapped, and this match was also over.
Mahira lifted her pal up and said, “Love you, girl. Keep working.”
The last quarterfinal match was between Blu and Sinaye. Blu, whose hair was aptly colored blue, and whose body was spotted with many piercings and tattoos, was very much an alternative to the norm in the sisterhood. Yet everyone still loved her dearly. She wagged her spike-adorned tongue out at Sinaye and moved in for the initial tussle. Sinaye tried to toss her with a hip throw, but Blu palm blocked it and they broke apart to circle each another once again.
Blu dove in for her friend’s legs, but Sinaye sprawled back and pushed Blu’s body to the mat. From there, she worked her way to her friend’s back and as Blu attempted to get up, Sinaye got her arms around her buddy's neck and put her in a rear strangle. Blu tapped out, which ended the last of the quarterfinal matches.
Only four of the ladies were left in the annual sisterhood grappling tournament.
Raegan would take on the doctor, Jansa, and Mahira would match up against the robotics scientist, Sinaye. Today was a day of fun for all the ladies. Freedom fighting was not an easy occupation, and anytime they could be playful, well, it meant a lot to their overall mindset and was actually very relaxing …if grappling could be considered relaxing.
The seriousness of life was often very difficult to avoid, yet it was this type of bonding day that brought all the women closer together. There were fights, yes, but before and after each fight, both old and new members were able to get to know one another. This was a very important part of the day, especially for the new recruits of the sisterhood.
Chapter Two
President Arn Marcou was not one for slackers. The tall, imposing ageless leader wore his trademark two-piece tailored suit of a grayish gunmetal color as he walked about Washington D.C. This landmark area was under his jurisdiction, of course, but the stubborn leaders of the onetime nation’s capital were getting on his nerves.
The mayor was a typical over-fat, short guy who wanted to think he was above all others and always had to be respected. He was balding with an oddly placed star tattoo on his forehead and went by the name of Westley Warns.
President Marcou took him aside and told him how it was. “Wes, I hav
e let you run this area for years now, but you still need to get things done. I would never let that silly, crippled gray-haired woman, Gerry Bends, take your spot. You know that, right?” He was mocking the mayor.
The mayor knew more was coming, and as the two stopped to look over the newly renovated Capitol building, he braced himself for exactly that. “I can do better, sir, and I will,” he told Marcou.
The refined president breathed a funny sound out loud. He said, “Westley, Westley, Westley, you control all permitted electricity, all water distribution, have full gun control, birth regulation, and everything and anything in between.” The president took another long breath, then added, “So don’t fuck it up!” Westley Warns began to speak but was cut off. “Make me money, lots of money. Do your job! We men, our private boys' club, we rule this land.”
Before much more could be said, both men noticed the sky darkening and knew these days how seriously weird the weather had become. Storms were big and nasty, and it was better to take cover when one was brewing. Both men went inside to discuss matters more.
***
Back in New York, the final four ladies were ready to roll.
Raegan and Jansa joined in the center and latched onto one another. The sisterhood’s leader scooped up Jansa’s leg, but Jansa twisted free, pushed off her friend's head, and gained enough space to steady herself with better balance.
“Nice try,” Jansa mentioned to her pal.
Raegan then grabbed her sister and pulled her down between her legs in a scissor-like guard hold. Jansa took a posture as Raegan tried to quickly arm bar the beautiful curly-haired doctor. This gave the doc a chance to pass around her friend’s legs and assume side control so as to arm bar Raegan. She grabbed her sister’s far arm and stepped over it, spinning to the opposite side for the lock. Unfortunately for Jansa, the arm was too loose and Raegan got out of it and recovered to her knees.
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