A Dead God's Tear (The Netherwalker Trilogy)
Page 47
It shifted on its back legs as it sized up the obstacle in front of it, pushing off a moment later, leaping high into the air onto the wall, completely vertical, and continuing to run as one might along a flattened road.
As it ran, images of a phantom life, from before the change, assailed it from every angle. They were momentary distractions, side effects of its creation. It recalled coming to Aralene, coming as something with two feet and an angry heart, but the thoughts did little to quell the overwhelming hunger in its gut.
Near the top of the rampart it encountered resistance, a magical barrier placed long ago by the wizards of the Academy, lending their aid to defend the city from uninvited guests, those who did not pass through the gate were not supposed to be able to surmount the peak of the wall. Such things were useless against this particular intruder and it slipped through, the magical detriment shedding along its skin like water on glass.
There! The warm glow of its prey stood out like a candle in the night, and another push of its mighty legs sent it hurtling onto the surprised guard, who didn’t even have time to scream as strong jaws tore out his throat.
It began to devour the man immediately, not waiting for the death throes to subside. The guard was still aware of the sensation of being eaten alive. Pleasure coursed down the beast’s body, tiny chills that had it whining in ecstasy.
In mere moments nothing was left of the guard besides bits and pieces of armor, the metal rended and split by powerful jaws. The beast licked its jowls and then turned its head toward the sleeping city of Aralene, the lights flickering off in the distance.
Far stronger than even its hunger came the compulsions, implicit orders to carry out, concerning more things to kill and maim. It panted eagerly, red eyes glowing in the early morning dark. A slight growl emanated from its gut as it considered the instructions given to it by its creator.
It looked forward to slaying those its creator decreed unworthy. But it would have done so even without the magical instructions. Flashes of its previous life instilled in it an overwhelming sense of anger toward these individuals. The only clue as to the cause of its insatiable need was a single word:
Vengeance.
The end
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