Reality Falling (The Book Wielder Saga 2)

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Reality Falling (The Book Wielder Saga 2) Page 12

by Davies, Sean


  Kat couldn’t believe that the cheeky bastard’s cheesy chat-up lines were actually working on her. She’d have to meet this guy and decide whether to kill him or fuck him, or both. “So Mr Smooth, did you just call me up to make me wet or was there something else you wanted?”

  The voice chuckled. “The Boss-man and I have got a little plan brewing and we need your help to pull it off.”

  “I’m in,” Kat said quickly. She needed to grab any chance she could get to raise her stock with Omniosis.

  “Very eager, we like that,” Lewis said impressed. “We need you to round up some of the refugees and newly homeless-”

  “And kill ‘em?” Kat guessed excitedly.

  “No. We want you to put them on some of the cargo boats still in the docks.”

  “You’re going to just let them go?” she interrupted again angrily.

  Lewis chuckled. “My, you are a feisty little kitten, aren’t you? We’re going to let them go, all the way to Orphan Isle... with a nice bunch of heavily armed Alts hiding amongst them.”

  “Nice, very nice. And here I am thinking you’d gone all floppy cocked on me,” Kat replied happily.

  “I don’t think I could go ‘floppy cocked’ around you, my sexy little psycho.”

  She giggled. “You fucking charmer. After we bend the world over and fuck it like a whore, we definitely need to meet up.”

  “Only if I can bend you over and fuck you like a whore?” Lewis purred back.

  “You got yourself a deal, you smooth-talking little shit-bag,” she said excitedly, before a thought sprung to mind. “Didn’t the Inquisition twats deny the first lot of refugee boats entry? I heard they made them go all the way to Tropica.”

  “That’s true, they probably won’t let them in because of the security risk. If they are dumb enough to let them dock then it’s just a bonus.”

  “Then why are we doing this?” Kat was confused.

  “Because we want you to have some media helicopters nearby to get some good shots of them being blown out of the water.”

  Kat cackled like a maniac. “That’s brilliant! Win-win either way, I love it! You tell the Archmage that he can depend on me, Lewis.”

  “Don’t you worry, I’ll let him know Kat. The Archmage and I are very close, you see.”

  “Good. Well, I’ll speak to you soon, horny Lewis Thorny,” Kat said eagerly. She couldn’t wait to start rounding the deadweight humans up and shipping them out.

  “Tell us when you are done. See you later, sexy.” Then the line went dead.

  Kat headed to the dockyards with a squad of her best people. She couldn’t let anything go wrong, and started forcefully moving groups of the human men, woman, and children onto some of the vessels that were still docked there. Afterwards, she’d get the Sheriff, the cowboy Alt that seemed to have a giant stick up his ass, to gather up some cannon-fodder Alts, get them dressed up in civvies, and hide amongst the humans.

  The psychotic leader of the Anarchy’s Ascendants smiled wickedly. Things were about to get real messy.

  - - -

  The man struggled pointlessly as he tried to free himself from the wooden rack. He was laying on a cold wooden surface, completely naked and spread wide like a frog being pinned down ready for dissection. The straps he was trying to break out of were enchanted to keep a Supernatural in place, so the poor man’s escape attempts were definitely futile.

  The room was cold and dark. Only a single bright yellow light bulb hanging directly above his head gave any illumination, and it hurt the man’s eyes to look directly up for too long. The walls were bare orange and brown brickwork, and the air was musty and dank.

  He heard delicate footsteps. “Who’s there?” he asked nervously, his voice and body shaking tremendously.

  “Someone who wants answers,” a female voice said from the dark edges of the room.

  The man listened to the sounds of metal clanking on metal and then the faint noise of squeaking wheels. He tried to get a look at his captor but it sounded like they were now behind him.

  “Please, please let me go, I don’t know what I’ve done wrong!” he pleaded frantically.

  “You might not have done anything wrong, but that’s what we’re here to find out,” the feminine voice said firmly.

  The man whimpered in response.

  Veronica stepped out of the shadows beside him and the man’s eyes went wide at the sight of her. She was wearing a pair of long leather boots, fishnet stockings, lace elbow-length gloves, and a tiny leather corset that left her pale massive breasts, large nipples and trimmed black pubic hair fully exposed. Her hair had been pulled into a long tightly bound ponytail, and she had black lipstick, thick eye shadow, and lengthening mascara on. Her red eyes gleamed with dark intent. She was looking hotter than hell in her dominatrix gear but the poor man was far from aroused, especially when his eyes focused on the scalpel in her hand.

  The news of Lucius’ death had hit her like a truck. Veronica was completely and utterly devastated, and to make matters worse, Winston was over on Desem when she could have really used his love and support. But instead of breaking down, she focused her emotional state on her investigation. Something wasn’t right about the story Lewis had told her – something wasn’t right about Lewis – and if the theory that was brewing in her mind was correct, she would soon be in mortal danger.

  Veronica had asked around as slyly as she could and the picture that she’d been painted definitely seemed off to her, but there was only so much information she could get by asking seemingly innocent questions and doing a bit of inconspicuous Bloodmage mind-skimming. She had to step it up a notch, and quickly. She had to start some interrogations, and so she had secretly set up shop in one of the Shadow Circles old torture rooms. The information gathering hadn’t been going well so far, but then she’d only just begun that night. Veronica had accidentally stumbled across something from her last ‘guest’ that had sent a shiver down her spine. She hoped this receptionist wouldn’t be the same.

  “Please,” he whimpered.

  She shushed him by placing a finger gently on his lips. “Where were you the night that Lucius died?”

  “Erm... at work, the hotel, I was at the hotel!” he burbled.

  “Did you see Lucius that night?” she asked politely.

  The man hesitated. “I don’t know, I think so... I don’t know, I can’t remember! Please let me go.”

  Veronica tutted at him like a disappointed school teacher. “I’m going to need you to remember better than that.” She climbed up on the rack and kneeled in-between his spread legs, toying with the scalpel playfully. “You were on the reception desk that night, weren’t you?”

  “Yes... yes I was – but then so was Frank, you should ask him, he’s got a better memory than me, he always has done,” the man said frantically, shaking with fright.

  “Oh, I did ask Frank,” Veronica began playfully. “He wasn’t as talkative as you, but then I hope you’re not going to be that stupid.”

  “Oh Goddesses have mercy on me, please save me!” he prayed desperately.

  Veronica chuckled evilly. “They’re not going to save you, honey. They’re not even really Goddesses, but we won’t go into that. I have a proposition for you,” she purred sexily.

  The man was still panicked. “What- what do you mean?”

  “Well,” she said, waving the scalpel from side to side in his line of vision. “I can either make this very nasty for you...”

  Veronica quickly slashed the scalpel across his stomach. It was only a surface wound, but the man squealed like a little girl. Fresh red blood oozed from the thin line she’d drawn across his flesh. She smiled, for that was what she had wanted to see. She lowered her head and moved her body forward, making sure that her chest brushed against his cold flaccid penis as she licked along the wound with her long tongue, sealing it shut with her vampiric saliva.

  The man continued praying and whimpering hysterically.

  “Or...” V
eronica moved herself upwards, dragging her giant firm breasts all the way up his body until she was face to face with him. “I can make this very, very pleasant for you. I just need answers.”

  He looked into Veronica’s red sexy eyes, and she could see that behind the fear, he wanted her badly. She pressed her crotch down onto his cock, just the front at first, until she could feel him growing hard against her styled bush. She positioned herself so that the outside of her pussy was rubbing against him. The recent blood drinking made it warm and inviting as she teased him.

  “What- what would you do to me? If I did tell you what you wanted to know?” he began bartering.

  It always astonished Veronica how brave men could get when their cocks started doing the thinking for them. “Oh, what wouldn’t I do for you?” she said playfully, tossing the scalpel on the floor; she could see the instant relief in his eyes. She had him.

  She moved back down his body, again deliberately keeping her breasts pressed against his body all the way down. “So will you tell me? Did you see Lucius that night, leaving the hotel?” Veronica asked sweetly as a school girl, as she grabbed the base of his cock firmly with one hand and licked slowly with her tongue up to the tip, where she began brushing her lips side to side against it.

  The man wriggled excitedly. All his fear had been replaced with pure lust-filled animalistic desire. “I saw him, but just don’t say anything to anyone else...”

  Veronica spat on his cock and positioned it in-between her breasts, making it disappear completely in her amazing cleavage. He sighed with ecstasy as she used her hands to move them up and down, but all she could think of was how Winston’s was much bigger. “My lips are sealed, I promise.”

  In between a pleasure filled sigh, he breathed, “Lucius left the hotel with that blonde guy. You know, the weird one that hangs around with Winston and the Archmage all the time.” He paused to enjoy the moment. “They got into one of those strange Gloom cars with the faces and legs.”

  Veronica knew it. Lewis hadn’t said fuck all about it, and she knew either him or the Archmage had taken Lucius out. It was probably the same for Brooke and Alexander, and maybe Lynette and Kavarne too. Omniosis and Lewis were separating Winston from the people closest to him, and that meant that she was next.

  She undid the bonds around his legs and then brought herself face to face with the receptionist once again. Veronica could see the excitement in his face as she undid the straps around his arms, and she could feel him trying to poke his dick inside of her. Once his restraints were off, he tried putting his arms around her. Veronica slammed him against the wooden rack and hopped off onto the floor.

  “What? But I thought-” the man stuttered feebly.

  “You thought what?” Veronica said harshly. “I’m a married woman, the worst I do is sharesies. Now get the fuck out of here while you still can!”

  The man slid off the rack, looking both terrified and extremely disappointed. He put his hands over his erect private parts as best he could, and looked around like a scared rodent for the exit. Veronica approached him. The man started shaking again, and she grabbed his shoulders and gave him a ‘gentle’ shove towards the exit.

  “Keep going that way,” she said, shaking her head at the pitiful sight. “You’ll see some light. Follow it, and it will lead you to the stairs out of here.”

  The man got out of her sight a lot quicker than she thought a human could move.

  Veronica started to weigh up her options in her head. The first idea she came up with was to wait for Winston to return so she could have a private word, but then would Lewis and Omniosis let that happen? She decided to hold out as long as possible. She’d get some supplies together and leave for Industria at the first sign of trouble, and hopefully she’d be able to get a hold of her new husband somewhere in-between. At least she had a slight advantage; they didn’t know that she knew what they were up to, or so she hoped.

  She continued running scenarios in her head as she walked into the adjoining torture room, taking a large plastic vat of industrial strength acid with her. Veronica surveyed the scene with a hint of sadistic pride. Frank hadn’t been very talkative at all, even as she’d ripped his fingernails out and cut off his toes. He’d held his tongue all throughout the barbaric removal of his limbs, skin, and innards. He’d been as silent as the grave as Veronica had slowly but surely butchered him. But she hadn’t expected him to tell her anything, for when she’d cut him at the beginning of the session, black blood that stank of death and decay had seeped from the wound. After that first cut (coupled with her vividly unpleasant memory of Mortissa’s alteration of the Inquisition troopers), she’d realised the awful truth that Gloom water could start transforming people into Alts, even without Mortissa’s needlework and Demon sorcery. Suddenly, Lewis’ overall behaviour made a lot more sense. Veronica bet her bosom on the fact that he’d been under the Archmage’s control right from the start, even if he hadn’t been fully aware of it.

  Breaking the seal and removing the lid of the acid vat, Veronica began liberally coating the gore splattered room, cleansing it of the black-blooded meaty remains of Frank. Watching the acid steam as it slowly dissolved the body parts and innards from existence, Veronica wished that she’d brought some bleach along with her. It would have worked a lot faster.

  Chapter 5: Fate’s Valkyries

  Alice stirred her potion and thought about how well the meeting between the Inquisition, Trinity and Tropican powers had gone. Azalea’s new gift of swaying people had Alice wondering whether it too was magical in nature and had come along with her mysterious foresight from her half-Mage awakening. Nevertheless, thanks to her influence, all factions, gangs and every other collective group of Supernaturals, freedom fighters, or in some cases both, were now working towards a common goal alongside the Trinity of Old and Inquisition.

  Alice didn’t consider their plan to be great, but it would do considering that the war was not going in their favour. The alliance of resistance movements would increase their guerrilla attacks on the Archmage’s weak points, making life for their supply movements as uncomfortable as possible, and feign attacks on Imperia and Industria City. The hope was that Omniosis would mistake their forces for being spread thin and throw too many resources at his Tropican offensive, which would cost him lots and gain him little. With the amount of preparation Azalea had put in, he would have to reallocate more and more forces to Tropica if he ever wanted to merge the world completely, and that would open up yet more areas for resistance retaliation. For the first time in a long while Alice actually felt like the war was winnable.

  Azalea had assured all sides that the only person able to ‘unmerge’ the locations would be Winston, and any damage to those areas would be pointless, which had dismissed Alice’s idea to restore her Inquisition science team’s space rockets back into DVO missiles. With that new information, Alice was once again reminded of her mission from the Twins. Not only would she have to sway Winston away from his partnership with Omniosis, but she would also have to convince him to undo his work, and she still couldn’t think of a feasible way to get through to him.

  Alice had left Azalea on relatively good terms. She still considered her desertion and renegade behaviour to be a capital offense against the Inquisition, but couldn’t deny that they would be lost without her actions. She arrived back on Central Isle feeling quite uplifted, but it didn’t last long.

  Commander Anthony Stein, who she had left in charge of the Isle and Inquisition affairs while she was away, had come to her as soon as she had left the extremely well-guarded Catacomb entrance. The bald headed, clean shaven golem of a man had spoken gravely of the last convoy of refugee ships that had attempted to gain asylum. Alice knew what had happened before he’d even explained himself.

  He told the tale Alice already had predicted in his hard monotone voice. The convoy had arrived a few days after they had lost Industria. A fleet of newly built sleek silver and white Inquisition battleships had sailed out to
bar their passage, but the refugees had continued sailing towards the Isle at full speed. The Inquisition fleet checked the incoming ships with their high-tech thermal scanners, because after the brutal attack on Central Isle that had led to the assassination of Autocrat Edgar Aurelius II the whole place was more than equipped to flush out possible Gloom Freak activity. The scanners confirmed that there were large numbers of non-humans amongst the refugees. The fleet’s Admiral had radioed Commander Stein with the news and he gave the extremely difficult order back in return. The refugee ships had been completely annihilated with cannon and plasma fire.

  To make matters worse, Commander Stein had more to add to his grim tale. Helicopters in the distance, flying as far out from Industria as they could with their fuel allowance, had captured the whole event on film and the footage was now the primary fuel in the anti-Inquisition propaganda machine.

  Alice thanked him for his report and told him that it was a hard decision but an unavoidable one, although he didn’t look that fazed at all. She had picked him to take charge on the Isle precisely because of his uncompromising manner, and asked him to keep up the good work. She’d gone up to her room at the top of the Central Tower, slipped out of her armour and showered quickly. She had some rations and then tried to relax, tried to get some decent sleep, but her mind was so busy it wouldn’t let her drift off.

  The propaganda issue was unavoidable, but she found it infuriating how people could be so stupid at times. Why couldn’t they see that they were being spoon-fed what to think? It just seemed so obvious that the Archmage and his allies were not the good guys. She had to remind herself that it didn’t matter what the people thought. Alice and the Inquisition had a duty to protect the people whether they wanted that protection or not.

  Finally giving up with the futile attempt to rest, Alice radioed Stein and told him that she was leaving for the Catacombs again. Completely forgetting her place, she was stopped by Inquisition guards when she walked through the first portal under the ruins on Central Isle. Alice waited there patiently while Jonathan finally came to collect her. He was surprised to see her, but didn’t ask any questions. He told the guards it was fine and off they went.

 

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