Arrival

by William Dickey

  ‘Yes,’ said Mai, agreeing to the second demand. ‘I promise to try,’ she added coyly, returning to her typical playful attitude.

  Suddenly Mai expression changed.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  ‘Shhh, quiet,’ Mai snapped, tension filling her voice. ‘There’s something… Behind you. Duck.’

  “Wha-” I started to say as I turned around to see what she was talking about.

  A towering silhouette was standing right behind me. It was strange. I hadn’t heard anything coming. Not a footstep. Not a breath. Not even a gust of wind as it pushed its way through the thick smoky air to reach me. The figure was like a phantom, suddenly just there. Even at only a few feet away it remained cloaked in darkness.

  I heard a sharp crack and pain flooded my forehead. My vision wobbled as the world came in and out of focus.

  ‘Try to stay calm,’ said Mai. ‘I’ll be here when you wake up.’

  My legs gave out and gravity took over. I fell and banged my head again, this time against the ground. As everything was painted black, all I could think was that at least this world wasn’t boring.

  Epilogue

  Izusa dragged the body down an alleyway and behind a couple trash bins. It would be a most terrible thing to be caught now that she was so close. Once she was carefully concealed amongst the shadows, Izusa placed two of her fingertips on the man’s throat.

  ‘Good is still alive,’ she thought as she confirmed a strong steady pulse.

  She hit him rather hard but she needed to make sure to knock him out in a single blow. It wouldn’t do to have him best her again, especially since a bunch of borderline fanatical followers surrounded him.

  Izusa didn’t blame the inhabitants of the city for behaving this way. The achievements of this crafter were incredible. Somehow, he gave this fighter-less city the capability to force back the largest Othan assembly of warriors in recorded history. Izusa feelings about this were somewhat mixed. Such a loss was a serious scar to Othan pride, but at the same time, it further proved the crafter’s capabilities. ‘Perhaps is just the one to sort this out.’

  Izusa waited another hour in the shadows for the sounds of celebrations to die down and the streets to empty before she quietly hoisted the unconscious crafter over one of her naked shoulders and headed out. She carefully scaled the wall, which was surprisingly difficult in her human form and with a heavy passenger in tow, paying special attention so that no guard would spot her. Not that it was likely, most of the guards also joined in the celebration so security was surprisingly light.

  Once clear of the walls, Izusa shifted back to a wolf and ran off into the wilderness. Her prize safely secured to her back, Izusa’s mission was a complete success.

  Clang. Clang. Clang.

  The large door of the old laboratory outpost groaned and crackled as the heavy layer of ice covering it shattered, briefly revealing the large † engraved across it before the entire door melted away. In the doorway stood a disheveled young daemon that looked to have gone through many nights without sleep.

  “Yes?” he said.

  “Lancepesade Lilith Demogorgon of the 16th Reconnaissance Division. I have come to deliver a hard drive from Agent Morrigan,” she said.

  “Yes, we’ve been expecting you. Come in,” said the man. “I’m Legult, one of the scholars working here. Follow me. I’ll take you to Distlemander, he runs this place.”

  Lilith followed the man inside and past several gaggles of murlimps towing heavy machinery. The short statured six limbed murlimps were dim but strong, so they were frequently used in construction projects. It was the first time Lilith had seen these things from up close. They were normally kept away in society, them being lesser beings and all.

  “Don’t worry. Just ignore them. They’re always moving around the facility. You’ll get used to it after a while,” said Legult.

  “After a while?” Lilith asked. As far as she knew this was just a simple drop off.

  “Oh, I guess Distlemander was supposed to tell you,” Legult shrugged. “We are a bit short of personnel and it takes so long to get someone out this far. You were already coming so Distlemander asked to have you reassigned.”

  “Okay I guess,” said Lilith as she continued following Legult. Even though the cold here would be a constant annoyance, Lilith was intrigued by the goings on of the lab. What sort of operation required setting up a facility this far from anything?

  “What’s that?” Lilith asked pointing to a large metallic ring in the middle of the room. Inside the ring was a pitch black hole that seemed to vibrate in tune with fluctuations in air currents. Lilith was by no means an expert but even she noticed the massive mana conduits running to the device. Whatever it was, it was a serious power hog.

  “That is this facility’s main project. Its function is classified,” said Legult.

  “And that?” she asked, pointing across the room to a large metallic rod set next to a small speaker.

  “Again classified,” said Legult. “You’ll have to wait until you talk to Distlemander. He’ll decide what you need to know.”

  Lilith left but her mind still wandered back to the rod device. She thought it was strange, not because it was particularly advanced, in fact compared to most things she was used to it seemed quite primitive. No, Lilith was interested because of the noises coming from the device. The sounds were clearly speech but not of a language she recognized, which was something in of itself. Lilith had mastered a great many languages for her work with the reconnaissance division. Yet this language was a complete mystery.

  “Now Channel 2 weather with meteorologist David Johnson.”

  “OK, it’s a Monday morning. Well shake that off and embrace the day. Today is going to be another hot one. Not quite as bad as yesterday though, which was the hottest day on record for October with a high in Anchorage of 67 degrees. Today we expect it to be a bit cooler…”

  “Gwaaah, waaah, raah.”

  “Go ahead, remove the gag,” ordered a clean cut middle-aged man, to a similar looking man beside him. “Maybe this time he has something more to say.”

  “Respectfully sir, it’s already been a month. Don’t you think if he knew anything, he would have talked already,” said the second man as he set down the gallon jug of water and removed the rag from the prisoner tied down to the chair in front of them.

  “Probably,” the first man grunted. “But we don’t know exactly what we’re dealing with. No one does. The old rules may not apply.”

  “I guess you’re right,” the second man agreed as the prisoner coughed out a lungful of water.

  “Hey, you ready to talk yet,” the first man addressed the prisoner.

  “I keep telling you,” the prisoner cried. “I don’t know anything. My name is Bolevard Serilla. I am a foot soldier from Crystalpeak.”

  The second man’s fist flashed.

  Thud.

  “You’ve said that before. That’s not what I want to know,” said the first man.

  “But I don’t know anything,” Bolevard cried. “I was in a battle with the beastmen then next thing I knew I was somewhere else. I don’t know anything.”

  Thud. Thud. Thud.

  “Jose Cruz, whited away from a bus in Miami last week,” said the first man flashing a photo from a file.

  “Maria Spigotti, whited away from her home in Virginia Beach two weeks before that,” the first man continued, flashing another photo.

  “I’ve never heard of them. I don’t know anything,” said Bolevard.

  “Deirdre Samuels, whited away two blocks away and three days after you appeared in Medford. Do you know this woman? Don’t you think it’s a bit too coincidental for her to go so close to when and where you showed up? And that’s not even mentioning the hundreds of thousands that disappeared last year. And the few who have gone since. You aren’t getting out of here until I have some answers.”

  “I don’t know what’s going on,” Bolevard repeated.

  �
�I guess I just haven’t been patient enough yet,” the first man motioned to the second who picked up the water jug and returned the rag to Bolevard’s mouth.

  “Gwaaah, waaah, raah.”

  Brriiinng!

  Congratulations. You have gained greater insight into surviving without air.

  †Oxygen Deprivation Resistance† has reached level 4.

  Author’s Note

  Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. If you’re able to rate or write a review of this book, I’d greatly appreciate it. This can be done on:

  Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B077JFSGBC/

  Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36609183-the-otherist

  The second book in the series has already been completed and can be found here:

  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07KDKGBN9/

  If you would like to be kept up to date on releases the surest way is by joining my mailing list at: wddickey.com

  I won’t spam you with a bunch of progress updates but see it as an efficient way to get the word out when new releases are ready.