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Rise of the River Man

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by L. S. O'Dea




  Chimera Chronicles:

  Rise

  of the

  River Man

  L. S. O’Dea

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  RISE OF THE RIVER MAN

  First edition. January 22, 2017.

  Copyright © 2017 L. S. O'Dea.

  ISBN: 978-1942706045

  Written by L. S. O'Dea.

  Also by L. S. O'Dea

  Chimera Chronicles

  Rise of the River Man

  Feeding Fersia

  Breaking the Brush Men

  Rage Of Rattus Norvegicus

  Leaving Level Five

  Lake Of Sins

  Lake of Sins: Secrets in Blood

  Lake of Sins: Hangman's Army

  Lake Of Sins: Betrayed

  Whispers From the Past

  Lake of Sins: Escape

  Standalone

  Lake of Sins Series Box Set Books 1-3

  Chimera Chronicles

  A Demon's Gift

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Also By L. S. O'Dea

  Rise of the River Man (Chimera Chronicles, #1)

  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

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  The world of the Lake of Sins

  Characters

  Feeding Fersia – Volume Two in the Chimera Chronicles Series

  Free eBook

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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  To My family:

  The older I get, the more I realize how lucky I am to have all of you in my life.

  Author’s Note:

  This story takes place in the world of the Lake of Sins. It’s a world filled with human-animal hybrids and segregated by class.

  If you’d like to know more about this world before reading this story, go to “The World of the Lake Of Sins” link in the table of contents.

  CHAPTER 1

  MUTTER WAS IN TROUBLE. No one wanted a Guard like him. He was too big, too strong and too ugly. He stretched out on the concrete floor and winced. His ribs were definitely broken, but he’d fought and won with broken bones in the past. He started coughing. It was this sickness that had cost him the match. He sat up; the coughing subsided. He’d pleaded with Vickers, his Almighty master, not to make him fight but the money had already switched hands. He leaned his head against the bars of the cage. He’d lost the fight and now he’d lose his life.

  The door opened and a male Almighty around thirty years old with blond hair entered the room followed by Satcha, the House Servant who ran this establishment. The Guards’ Shelter didn’t allow visiting at this hour but Almightys did whatever they wanted. Mutter didn’t bother to stand up. He’d learned his lesson. Right after he’d arrived, he’d trimmed his beard and had tried to look pleasant, but it had done no good. Every time that he’d run to the front of the cage and had smiled at the Almightys, he’d smelled the fear on them. Most had tried not to look at him, but he was big and scarred and hard to ignore.

  They stopped in front of his cage.

  “Ableson, this is the one I told you about,” said Satcha. “Looks like he was a fighter. So, he should be used to obeying. I thought he might work for you, but he does have a bad cough.”

  “Just a little tickle in my throat from this damp, rotten place.” He hated Servants. They didn’t know when to keep their big mouths shut.

  The Almighty remained quiet, his blue eyes never leaving Mutter.

  “Come here,” said Satcha.

  Mutter wanted to stay where he was to annoy the Servant but Guards like him didn’t get many chances for a home. He stood slowly, letting the Almighty get used to his size and appearance.

  “How old are you?” asked Ableson.

  “Not sure. Been around for a while but not too old.” That was the safe answer. He had counted nineteen winters but that might be too old or too young. He never could tell what an Almighty wanted.

  “By his teeth and body we estimate around twenty-five to thirty years,” said Satcha.

  Ableson twirled his finger. Mutter understood that signal. Before the fights had started, when the betting happened, he was often sized up by the gamblers. He turned in a circle, giving the Almighty time to study him.

  “I’m strong and healthy.” That was a lie but he would be healthy again. He just needed a little time and some food.

  “I need an obedient Guard.” The Almighty’s eyes roamed up and down his frame.

  “Won’t find one more obedient than me.”

  “Let’s see if that’s true.” Ableson walked down the aisle. “Is there another Guard who he’s close to?”

  “Him?” Satcha laughed, following the Almighty. “He’s so big and ugly even the other Guards stay away from him.”

  Ableson stopped in the hallway. “Take this one out.”

  The Servant opened the cage and slipped a rope over a young Guard’s neck. Mutter’s chest pinched. Typical. The Almighty’s always chose the young ones. His only chance was gone. They would walk out and soon he’d be executed. He started to sit back down, when the three of them stopped in front of his cage.

  “Put her in with him,” said Ableson.

  “Ah, we keep the younger ones separated from the older ones, especially the older males,” said Satcha.

  The Almighty didn’t say a word, but his look was enough. The Servant muttered an apology and opened the door, shoving the young Guard into Mutter’s cage.

  He glanced at the little Guard who stood as far away from him as possible. She couldn’t have been older than nine. She had russet hair and large, frightened, brown eyes.

  “Hit her,” said Ableson, his tone conversational.

  “Wait,” said Satcha. “That one’s young and attractive. I can find a home for her. Let me get—”

  “I’ll pay for both.” The Almighty’s eyes never left Mutter.

  Mutter kept his face a mask but his stomach clenched. He didn’t want to do this. He’d fought females before but they’d all been experienced fighters.

  “I need an obedient Guard,” repeated Ableson.

  The girl trembled in the corner, tears running down her soft, round cheeks. “Please, don’t hurt me.”

  Pleading never changed anyone’s mind. He knew the game and it would be her or him. He stared into the girl’s scared brown eyes. “Bruised, broken or dead?”

  “Just hit her. I’ll tell you when to stop.”

  Mutter stepped forward. The girl curled in a ball on the floor, pleading and crying. He grabbed her by the shirt. She weighed next to nothing, all skin and bones. He punched her in the gut, making the blow look harder than it was, but t
he girl was so small she gasped and coughed. He hesitated, waiting for the Almighty to stop this, but no words came. He hit her again. She yelped in pain. He shifted his stance, stalling and praying for the words that would allow him to quit, but the only sounds were the yells of the Guards in the nearby cages. Most screamed for him to stop but some cheered him on. If the Almighty wouldn’t end this, he would. His next punch caught her upside the head, knocking her out. He let her slide to the floor.

  He walked toward the Almighty.

  “I didn’t say stop.” Ableson’s blue eyes challenged him.

  He stared at the girl on the floor. Only in the roughest fights, those to the end, did they hit opponents when they were down.

  “Forget it. He won’t work.” Ableson turned and headed for the door.

  He’d be dead tomorrow if that Almighty left. The girl’s tiny frame was about the size of his arm. She was still breathing. “Wait.”

  Ableson walked back to the cage. “Obey or I leave. This is your one warning.”

  His heart thudded as each footstep moved him closer to the little female. The other Guards had fallen silent. He grasped her by the back of the shirt. Her head lolled to the side, eyes closed. He stared at the tears on her cheeks as he punched her over and over, trying to hit non-vital parts but it was difficult. She was tiny and his fists were big.

  “Enough,” said the Almighty.

  He lowered her to the floor. Her breath was ragged and blood trickled from her lips. His eyes burned, but no wetness came. He hadn’t cried since he’d lost his mother. It didn’t do any good. He wiped the girl’s blood on his shirt as he faced the Almighty.

  Ableson smiled at him and handed an envelope to the Servant. “I’ll take him.”

  Satcha looked in the envelope. “Ah, the price for the girl...”

  Ableson frowned but handed the Servant a few more bills. Satcha stuck them in his pocket and opened the cage door, putting a rope around Mutter’s neck.

  “Come.” Ableson yanked on the rope.

  Mutter fisted his hands, fighting the urge to kill both of them as he stepped out of his cage.

  “What about her?” asked Satcha.

  “Do what you want with her,” said Ableson.

  “But...you already paid.”

  “If she lives, sell her again, or kill her. I don’t care.” Ableson walked toward the door.

  Mutter refused to look back at the girl, the sacrifice for his freedom.

  CHAPTER 2

  ONCE OUTSIDE, MUTTER CONSIDERED running. The tiny rope around his neck, held by the skinny arm of the Almighty wouldn’t stop him, but he wouldn’t make it far, not from here. Too much traffic. Too many Almightys and their Guards.

  Ableson climbed inside his carriage. “Get in.”

  He’d never ridden in a carriage. He’d always trailed behind on a chain. He crawled inside. It was small, enclosed like a comfortable cage.

  “Sit,” said Ableson.

  He sat on the bench across from the Almighty. It was soft, smashing up around him.

  “I’m Ableson. What do they call you?”

  “Mutter.”

  “That’s an odd name.”

  He shrugged. His older sister had given it to him. She’d hated him, blamed him for losing their home. According to her, before he’d been born she and their mother had lived in a nice home adored by loving Almightys, until their mother had taken up with a stray Guard. As soon as the Almightys had seen Mutter, they’d known his mother had mated with someone besides his sister’s father. They’d been planning on sending him and his mother to the Guards’ Shelter, but Mom had taken her children and fled. By the time he’d realized that his name was a whisper of hate, he’d had other things to worry about like where he’d find food and shelter. His mother had died when he was five and his sister had abandoned him.

  “Do you have anything you want to ask me about your new home or why I picked you?” Ableson’s eyes were eager, like he was dying to talk.

  “No.” He knew better than to question an Almighty. He’d find out everything he needed to know as the days progressed.

  Ableson laughed. “The professor is going to love you.”

  He wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. No one had loved him since his mother.

  Ableson stared out the window for several moments. When he turned back toward Mutter his eyes were sad. “I’m sure you wonder why I made you...you know.”

  He didn’t wonder. Almightys were cruel and did as they wanted.

  “You have to be curious?”

  Obviously the Almighty wanted some kind of response. “You wanted a Guard who would obey. Now, you know. I’ll obey.”

  “That’s right. I needed proof that you would do whatever I ask of you.”

  “I’ll do what the Almighty wants.” At least until he had the opportunity to run. He’d been a stray before. It wasn’t pleasant but he could do it again.

  “Excellent.” Ableson patted Mutter’s leg.

  He fought to keep his face impassive when he wanted to punch Ableson over and over again until the memory of the little Guard was gone and all that remained was a bloody piece of Almighty pulp.

  “We are working on a very important project. We’ve failed in the past, but I believe that with you we will succeed. You’ll have plenty of good food and a nice place to sleep. I think you’ll be happy with me and the professor.”

  “I’ll be happy.” He coughed again but this time he had a hard time stopping.

  “We’ll give you something for that cold.” Ableson took out a notepad and began writing.

  As the coughing subsided, Mutter relaxed in the comfortable seat. The unconscious face of the battered, little Guard haunted him. He stared out the window, forcing the image away. The night was glorious, warm and sultry. He’d never thought to see the moon again or breathe the fresh air. He’d made the right choice. The little Guard would not have died for him, so why should he have sacrificed himself for her?

  The carriage pulled to a stop and they exited. The yard was large with a manicured lawn that stretched to the woods. A red brick, two-story house sat at the end of the driveway next to another larger building which was surrounded by a fence.

  “Come, I’ll show you where you’ll stay.” Ableson led him through the fence and into the building.

  It was the cleanest place he’d ever seen. The white tile floor was spotless. He shook the dirt off his feet before following Ableson into the building.

  They maneuvered through hallways and stairwells, stopping on the fifth floor. The scent of fear and other smells that he couldn’t quite place assailed him.

  “Come.” Ableson stood in an open doorway.

  His instincts told him to run but he’d never find his way back out of the building. He entered the room. It was filled with cages and laboratory equipment.

  Ableson unlocked the door to a cage and opened it. “This is your room.”

  There was a pile of blankets on the floor, more blankets than Mutter had seen in his life and a small table and chair. He swallowed a lump in his throat but entered the cell. He had to sleep somewhere. This wouldn’t be permanent. It was probably just for the night.

  “I’ll bring you some food.” Ableson pulled the cage door closed and left.

  He leaned down, feeling the blankets. They were soft and smelled like flowers. He wanted collapse into them and sleep until his ribs quit hurting but sounds from the other enclosures drew him forward. He grasped the bars of the cage and inhaled, as deep as he could without causing his cough to start again. He couldn’t quite place the scents. The odors of House Servant and Guard were strong but there were other smells too; ones he didn’t recognize. There was movement in a few of the cells, but the motion wasn’t quite right. In one cage, it was more a dragging than walking and whatever was in the cell next to his, made a noise like claws on the tile, tap, tap, tap as it scurried around its enclosure.

  Ableson came back carrying a tray of food. He opened the cage and placed it on
the table. Mutter’s mouth watered at the selection of meat and bread.

  “You can eat in a minute. Take off your shirt,” said Ableson.

  He pulled his shirt over his head.

  Ableson examined his chest, poking and prodding. Mutter tried to keep the pain from showing but the Almighty’s fingers seemed to find the exact right spots.

  “Give me your arm.” Ableson drew blood and then headed for the door. “Enjoy your meal and rest. I’ll give you something for the pain tomorrow.”

  “The pain is almost gone.” He couldn’t appear weak or sick.

  Ableson shook his head. “We are going to work closely together. This will not work if you lie to me.”

  Mutter lowered his gaze. “I won’t. I promise.” He could not mess this up. He was caged again and would not be able to flee.

  “The pain?”

  He raised his eyes but knew better than to hold the Almighty’s gaze. It was a sign of disrespect and honestly, he scared most Almightys. “Still hurts but not as bad as before.”

  “Very good.” Ableson pointed to a small door at the back of the cell. “Bathroom is in there. I expect you to stay clean.” He left the room, shutting the door behind him.

  Mutter waited two seconds and then sat at the table, shoving food into his mouth. It was good. He barely ever got meat and never whole pieces, just scraps. The things in the other cells became more active once Ableson left. He swore a long, skinny, bristly arm shot out from between the bars of the cell next to him. He blinked twice but there was nothing there. It had to be his imagination. It had to be.

  CHAPTER 3

  THE NEXT MORNING, ABLESON escorted Mutter downstairs. The Almightys in the laboratory ran tests on him and then he was returned to his cell with a meal. The door opened and an older Almighty entered. He was tall and thin with thick, gray hair.

  Mutter stopped eating and stood. By Ableson’s body language, this was an important Almighty.

  “Professor Conguise, this is the Guard I was telling you about,” said Ableson.

 

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