NIGHT SLAYER 3
Shadow Plague
WILLIAM MASSA
Critical Mass Publishing
Copyright © 2019 by WILLIAM MASSA
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover Design: Raul Ferran/NeoStock
Contents
THE STORY SO FAR
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Also by WILLIAM MASSA
About the Author
THE STORY SO FAR
Let me quickly introduce myself. My name is Jason Night. I’m a former SWAT commander and Marine. As you might expect, I’ve experienced a lot of crazy shit in my life, and I don’t scare easily. At least not until recently. After seeing my whole team get wiped out by a succubus and nearly dying myself, a mysterious sorceress recruited me to become a soldier in a war against monsters and magic.
See, an evil web of darkness threatens our world, a global network of evil wizards and creatures of the night known as the Shadow Cabal. I know it sounds like a paranoid YouTube conspiracy, but this shit is real. The Cabal is everywhere and nowhere. Controlling our society from the shadows. Leading us toward the apocalypse.
Trust me, nothing on my resume could have prepared me for this weirdness. Fortunately, the sorceress has become both mentor and general in this war.
I bet you’re curious about my new partner. Not all spell slingers are bad news. About a hundred years ago, the Cabal was a force of good in the world. The secret magical society maintained the balance between light and dark with the help of the Guardians, an order of combat magicians. Octurna, the sorceress, was one of these magical badasses.
She also happens to be the last surviving member of her order—the Shadow Cabal hunted down all the Guardians and slaughtered them. Octurna was the only one who got away. Barely. The Cabal put a death spell on her, which means she can’t set foot on Earth without risking instant death. So she built herself a magical fortress, the Sanctuary, which exists beyond time and space. As long as Octurna stays in the fortress, she is okay. It’s become both a refuge and a prison.
I think you’re getting the picture now. Stuck in the Sanctuary, Octurna needed someone who could venture into the field to face the horrors which threaten our world. A champion. A soldier. A Night Slayer.
I’m the lucky guy who landed the gig. Now I’m learning magic and kicking monster butt.
We won the first battle against the Shadow Cabal’s Los Angeles lodge. But the real war has just begun…
Prologue
John Davis sipped a Vodka Tonic while his watchful eyes roamed the hotel bar, hoping to find a woman who might be open to sharing a drink with him…and possibly more. The décor of the bar was kinda cheesy, but the drinks were strong.
After a day of non-stop meetings, the liquor sure hit the spot, and he could feel the tension easing from his exhausted body. He was in Austin on business, thousands of miles away from his wife and their eighteen-month-old baby. His job as a management consultant kept him on the go seven days a week, and that’s how he liked it. All the traveling allowed him to see new places and meet new people.
And screw new women.
Sometimes, when you were spending a night in a strange town, a $19.99 skin flick with no rewind just didn’t cut it.
Was he pursuing fresh trim because he wanted out? Possibly. Or perhaps a man had needs—
needs his wife had not been willing to meet as of late.
He wasn’t the only one with urges. There were plenty of female professionals in the same boat who were all too willing to ignore the wedding band on his finger. These casual encounters didn’t mean anything. Everyone involved was just scratching an itch with no strings attached and minimal chances of getting caught.
And hey, was it even really cheating? There was zero risk that these one-night stands would turn into something serious that could threaten his relationship. He wasn’t sabotaging his marriage, damn it. He was saving it. After all, he loved his wife. And sex wasn’t the same as love.
Let’s see how that one plays in a divorce court, buddy.
He ignored the heckling voice deep inside of him and concentrated instead on the attractive brunette who’d sauntered into the bar. She was in her mid-thirties, with long, toned legs and a shapely ass that her stylish business attire failed to hide. A wild mane of hair framed a heart-shaped face with full lips and big, playful eyes. She looked Italian or Spanish—definitely Mediterranean.
He gave her a smile. Her expression brightened as she returned it. Only one way to know for sure. Davis thought she was game. But he would have to be patient, let her settle in behind the circular bar with a cocktail before he made his move. He waited for her to drain most of her first martini before he moved over to her.
“Mind if I join you for a drink?” he asked.
“Why not?”
“I’m John.”
“Kate.”
“Nice to meet you, Kate. Man, this place sure could use a make-over. I feel like I’m back in the 80s. Thank God Paul makes a mean martini, huh?”
Going by the way Kate flashed her pearly whites at him, she didn’t mind his company one bit. Davis let the alcohol fuel the conversation. He learned that Kate was an event manager who lived in Boston. Like him, she logged a fair share of frequent flyer miles. Davis didn’t ask her if she was married or involved but assumed she was. He didn’t care. Preferred it, even, since there was less of a chance that she would assume this was anything but a one-time deal. Judging by how often she laughed at his jokes and the way she kept dabbing his hand and opening her body to him, he figured his chances were better than good.
They chatted about work, about places they’d been and places they hoped to visit. When they finished their third drink, he leaned over, squeezed her hand and invited her to his hotel room.
She flashed him a coquettish smile and rose to her feet, leaning in. Inches separated them. He could feel her heat, and his body stirred.
Five minutes later, they stumbled into his hotel room, lips locked. His hands explored Kate's ample ass under the black business suit, felt the swell of her large breasts pressing against her gray blouse as his tongue hungrily brushed her hot mouth, tasting lipstick and gin. He ran his fingers through her thick hair, inhaled the vanilla scent of her perfume.
God, she was delectable.
Grunting, he grabbed her by the hips, carried her over to the queen-sized bed, and gently lowered her on the mattress. Their passionate kisses had smeared up her makeup, and she looked even sexier in her disheveled state. He couldn’t remember the last time his wife had worn makeup. Her whole world revolved around being a mom. She didn’t even bother to fix her hair anymore or wear high heels. No wonder he gave into temptation. He was only human — only a man.
He pulled off Kate’s skirt and flipped her over while he stood at the edge of the bed. His hands caressed her buttocks as he removed her panties. She had to work out like a maniac to maintain this taught, toned body.
He stripped out of his suit and joined her on the bed. They explored each other for a bit, their passion building, until Kate couldn’t take it anymore.
“Fuck me,” she demanded hungrily.
<
br /> Who was he to refuse such a lovely request?
He slid inside her from behind, felt her heat clamp around him. And then he was thrusting away, his gaze focused on her ass and lithely muscled back and shoulders. Waves of pleasure rippled through his body while he watched their reflection in the large mirror mounted on the hotel room’s dresser. Seeing the growing ecstasy in Kate’s face, her tongue licking her lips while her firm breasts swayed back and forth, nearly pushed him over the edge. Her moans added even more fuel to the fire in his loins.
Davis felt like he was back in college again. Strong and virile. A young stud ready to break some hearts. A decade away from a frumpy wife and a baby that wouldn’t stop screaming.
With each new thrust, he felt his chest expand, his muscles bulge, his mouth growing wider. Heat rushed through his whole body, a sensation, unlike anything he had ever experienced before. But not at all unpleasant.
He was growing stronger. Fiercer. In touch with his true self. A conqueror. A lover. A goddamn badass.
Gone was the neutered mask which he wore as he sleepwalked through life.
He pounded into Kate almost frantically, skin slapping skin, building to a crescendo. Davis's grunts sounded deeper, brutish and almost animalistic. Not like his voice at all.
What is happening to me?
The question popped into his head for a second but was swept away by a renewed wave of pleasure.
On some level, he sensed something was wrong, but he was having too much fun to worry about it. He lips opened into an orgasmic roar that sounded more bestial than human.
And that’s when Kate’s moans turned into screams.
He registered the change as if from a great distance.
“John, you’re hurting me!” she cried out. “Stop, stop!”
He glanced down and realized with horror that a pair of clawed monster hands now cupped Kate’s buttocks, long nails digging deeply into the skin and drawing fine lines of blood across the pale flesh.
What the hell?
He glanced up at the reflection in the mirror, only to find a nightmare beast staring back at him. Kate looked as beautiful as ever, but a reptilian monstrosity—part dinosaur, part man—was driving into her with ferocious, brutal thrusts.
Scaly green skin covered a muscular physique, pockmarked with mushroom-like pink growths. Not growths, Davis realized, but multiple tiny mouths lined with piranha-like jagged teeth.
Davis felt his sanity crumbling, consciousness growing dim as the beast took full control and pushed all human thoughts aside.
The creature’s crocodile maw split open with pleasure, and the smaller mouths on Davis’s transformed body followed suit. Twenty harsh voices roared in ecstatic joy as the living horror formerly known as Davis climaxed explosively inside Kate.
The beast’s infernal roar drowned out Kate’s final, terrified scream.
1
I shot down the icy mountain on a pair of skis, my eyes sweeping the forested slopes. Twilight had descended over the Montana National Forest, but who needs night-vision goggles when you have dragon blood coursing through your veins?
My enhanced senses combed the darkness and tried to penetrate the dense trees that lined the backcountry trail. Somewhere in those woods, a killer dwelled. The murderer had almost a dozen souls on its conscience. It would not claim another.
Over the last few days, the local police had scraped up the mauled remains of ten winter sports enthusiasts. Some people believed the deaths to be the work of a grizzly bear who had developed a taste for human flesh. Others wondered if a serial killer had turned the National Forest into his private amusement park. The police would only say they were still gathering evidence.
I understood their desire to spare the public the grisly details.
Octurna had shown me the bloody remains of the murdered skiers. Neither man nor beast could have wreaked such horrible injuries on human anatomy.
Something else lurked in these woods. Something not of this Earth.
Okay, that’s a dramatic way of saying I was hunting a monster. And as I had learned over the last few months, it takes magic to fix a magical problem.
An arctic blast of air thrust me out of my thoughts. My discomfort lasted only for a few seconds, however. The magic of my clothes maintained my body temperature no matter how bad the weather conditions got.
Even though I was immune to the cold, no magic on Earth could stop the icy chill of dread in the pit of my stomach as I carved down the slope. I had faced my fair share of magical beasts and crazed wizards since I embarked on my monster-hunting adventure, but the fear of the unknown always remained.
To be honest, I didn’t know what I was up against here. And neither did the sorceress.
We did agree on one thing—this was bad. We had to stop the creature, whatever it might be, before it could decorate the mountain with someone else’s gutted remains.
Most of the tourists had fled after the last body, and all the ski lodges stood deserted. Not even the greatest adrenaline junkie was willing to tempt fate at this point.
No one but me.
I was the bait that would lure out the monster. Lucky me, huh? I had been up and down these goddamn slopes for hours now, hoping the creature might show itself. So far, zilch.
I was armed with my rune-engraved machine pistol and the silver-chain whip, but my weapons stayed hidden from view by my black snow outfit. The twin knives that had spelled the end for many a creature of darkness remained snuggly tucked away inside the gauntlet I wore on my right hand. Nothing suggested that I represented a more significant threat than any of the other poor souls who had drawn their last breath on this accursed mountain.
Nevertheless, the beast steadfastly refused to reveal itself. Almost as if it knew that there was something not quite kosher about my late-night ski run
Someone who harbors a severe death wish, that’s who, I thought.
To my dismay, someone else was listening in on my thoughts. And, as always, she didn’t appreciate my dark humor or flippant attitude.
Whatever happened to bravery, Slayer? The willingness to risk life and limb for a greater cause? Little wonder your age has no heroes. Courage is a dirty word, and most people treat it like a mental disease.
“Hey, Octurna, stay out of my head. You’re messing up my Chi.”
I am just making a general observation. Men are not what they used to be. Do not take it personally, Jason.
“Why would I?” I hissed under my breath as I blasted through a narrow passageway of snow-draped trees.
Octurna’s voice had caught me by surprise, but if I was honest with myself, I welcomed the banter. I hadn’t come across another person in hours, and the solitude of the stark mountain was getting to me. Listening to Octurna berate the males of my generation still beat the yawning silence of this forest. The only sound up here was the constant howl of the wind. Even the wildlife was smart enough to stay clear of the area. The growing darkness wasn’t helping either. Arguing with the sorceress took my mind off the grim reason that had brought me out here. But I needed to stay sharp and focused on the mission. With that in mind, I cut off what was shaping up to be an epic rant against the weakness of the modern man.
“Any ideas what we might be up against? You think the Shadow Cabal unleashed the abominable snowman on this mountain?”
Bigfoot is a myth, Slayer.
“Now you tell me,” I huffed. “Then what is it? Could we be dealing with a natural predator?”
I turned right, and my skis skittered down another steep chute, kicking up a spray of ice.
This wasn’t the work of a wolf or bear. There were no claw or bite marks. You saw the injuries yourself.
Unfortunately, I had, No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t erase the haunting images from my mind. The bodies had been honeycombed with countless tiny holes, like miniature bite marks. All the soft tissue and organs were missing. Hannibal Lecter would have been jealous.
I have been pouring o
ver the Cabal's monster manuals for hours, Octurna said. Going by the victims’ injuries, this creature isn’t like anything on record.
“How is that even possible? I thought the Cabal wrote all of this weird shit down in their diaries.”
My guess is that the monster has to be a recent creation.
Octurna's words gave me pause. According to the sorceress, mages had created most of the monster species millennia ago before the Guardians started to police the supernatural world—and long before the rise of the Shadow Cabal. Magic practitioners had combined demon blood with animals and plants to create terrifying hybrid beasts, some which I already had the dubious pleasure of facing in battle. In a nutshell, humanity’s nightmares were the result of a magical form of genetic engineering. I hadn’t considered that the Shadow Cabal might still be cooking up new abominations.
My thoughts broke off as my eyes spotted a human shape a few feet up ahead. I used my poles to slow down and eased toward the downed body. One quick look at the lifeless forest ranger confirmed my worst suspicions. His face had been perforated like Swiss Cheese, and the shredded jacket was dotted with too many puncture marks to count.
I clenched my jaw as I kneeled before the monster’s latest victim. As I examined the body, I felt angry at Octurna’s earlier words. She had casually declared that there were no more modern-day heroes, but the presence of the murdered ranger proved her wrong. Maybe there were fewer of them than in olden times, but every age spawned courageous individuals. Case in point, the dead man in front of me. He must’ve been out here looking for the killer when the monster had overwhelmed him.
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