From The Dark

by Tobey Alexander

  Copyright © 2019 by GMS written as Tobey Alexander

  All rights reserved.

  Cover design by Tobey Alexander

  Book design by Tobey Alexander

  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 permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Published using Amazon self-publishing services. All enquiries directed to the author through Amazon services or visit www.tobeyalexander.com

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  FROM THE DARK

  A MAGDON SERIES ADVENTURE

  I have loved the creation and world of Magdons, Nivags and monsters. It’s become something to me and my whole family. A real adventure and a real curse. Thank you for joining in my madness, all of you.

  1

  Facing the past

  Two jet-black BMW SUVs rumbled along the winding country lane at incredible speed. Their engines grumbled as the bushes on either side of the road brushed against the paintwork. Windscreen wipers flapped over the glass of the rear vehicle as the damp debris sprayed up from the lead car.

  The rain had abated, but potholes peppered the country track were filled with rainwater making the track a dangerous route. The suspension on both vehicles absorbed the tremendous jolts and bumps as the wide tyres dipped into the deeper of the potholes.

  ‘Careful you fool,’ Viktor barked from the passenger seat of the lead vehicle, his Austrian accent tainting his pronunciation. ‘I would like to arrive at our destination in one piece, and preferably with a car we can still drive.’

  Viktor’s point was emphasised as the vehicle absorbed another violent jolt from yet another pothole.

  ‘Sorry My Lord,’ the driver apologised and fixed his attention on the road in front.

  The driver’s skill was impressive. Dragging the heavy vehicle around the twists and turns, Viktor admired his handling of the SUV. Looking out of the windscreen Viktor tried to understand what the driver saw on the road ahead. With the shrubbery and bushes whipping past he struggled to make out details never mind the lay of the way forward.

  Viktor raised his hand to his chest and prised open the top two buttons of his shirt. Parting the fabric, Viktor dropped his attention to the rough and jagged scar across his chest. Feeling the tender flesh with his fingers, Viktor no longer paid heed to the twisting road ahead of them.

  Tracing the length of the scar it reminded Viktor of the pain when the sword had pierced his flesh.

  Two years since the furious fight in the bowels of the old ship on the Skeleton Coast but not a day passed when he did not feel the heat beneath his skin along the scar. The sword which had pierced his chest should have killed him. To this day he struggled to understand how he had survived aside from the emergency medical care of his brothers who had dragged him from the ruined ship.

  Closing his eyes, Viktor replayed the final moments in his memory and watched as all he had worked for crumbled before his eyes. The same sense of utter disappointment and frustration washed over him as he heard the screams of his master tumbling to her death.

  ‘What’s that?’ The driver declared, snatching Viktor’s attention back from his memory.

  Viktor’s eyes went wide as, at the last second, he understood what was happening.

  Logan could hear the engines in the distance. The high grumble of the engines carried in the air, muffled a little by the wild bushes flanking the narrow road. The distortion and dampening made it harder for him to judge their distance from him but Logan could see enough of the road in case he misjudged the sounds.

  Adjusting the spike-strip in it position Logan dragged out the nylon cable and wrapped it around the trunk of a small tree by the side of the road. Unravelling as he moved, Logan positioned himself further up the road and secreted himself beside a large moulding stump further along the road.

  It had taken him months to find where Viktor would be. The window for his trap was narrow, and he had only found out his nemesis’ route a few hours early. His original, more elaborate plan, had been replaced by a more immediate and rushed plan.

  ‘Here goes nothing.’ Logan muttered to himself as the growl of the engines grew nearer.

  Logan looked older than seventeen. His eyes betrayed a hard life, showing an age which did not match his still-developing physique. His hair was unkempt and help in a rough ponytail with a tattered elastic band. Although he had been on the move in the two years since turning from his family he had maintained his fitness. Lean and defined Logan replaced his gymnastics with callisthenics and running, making the most of the world around him as he lived his life on the move.

  It had not been easy to move among the world such a young boy, but he very soon adapted. Scouring most of Europe he had found traces of Viktor, the man who had murdered his mother, in the depths of Poland. Now, his trap set, the determined young man waited to see the nose of the first car appear around the bend a hundred metres up the road from him.

  Tightening his hair within the rubber band, Logan flicked the unruly hair from his face and readied himself as the cars drew nearer.

  ‘Got you bastard,’ Logan swore as the nose of the lead vehicle came into view.

  When he knew they committed the car, the wet road making it impossible for the driver to brake in time, the young man stood from his hide and stepped into the middle of the road.

  Logan recognised the horror on the driver’s face as he stepped into the SUVs path, but something fixed his attention on the passenger.

  Even at the distance, he was from the car he recognised Viktor in a heartbeat. Sporting a beard, Logan could not mistake the three scars down his face and the milky eye staring down the road towards him.

  ‘Viktor!’ He bellowed, knowing full well his adversary would not hear him.

  Logan saw Viktor point towards him and the tone of the engine change as the driver stamped on the accelerator.

  ‘Perfect,’ Logan laughed and jumped back onto the grass verge.

  Yanking the nylon cable, the spike-strip unfurled across the width of the road. Surprised by its sudden appearance, the driver had no time to do anything about it. Slamming on the brakes, he was already careering towards the spikes and although the tyres fought for grip on the damp road, the front tyres rolled over the hollow spikes.

  Air hissed from the tyres, and the traction of the wheels failed. As the spikes pierced the rear tyres, Logan pressed himself against the bushes as the first car thundered past him and the second rolled over the trap.

  The first driver fought against the shredded tyres but the second driver was not as skilled. No sooner had the first tyres gone over the spikes did the front left wheel shed its tyre, and the alloy wheel dug into the ground before shattering.

  The violent action sank the front of the car down into the road and as the suspension strut snapped and dug into the sodden tarmac, the car up-ended and flipped over in the air.

  The car rolled end-over-end until a sturdy tree stopped its momentum by the side of the road.

  Logan smiled as the rear car slammed into the rear of the lead sending it into a spin. He turned his attention to the second car as it collided with the tree. Almost straight away it erupted into a fireball sending debris and flames billowing high into the air.

  ‘One down,’ Logan hissed as he turned his attention to the second vehicle.

  The driver did well to maintain control and would have s
ucceeded had another pothole ripped control from him and tossed the massive SUV onto its side stopping dead in the road's middle. With the wheels still spinning Logan admired his handy work before leaning down to retrieve his sword from the ground where it lay.

  ‘Andrei the Aggressor,’ Logan admired the blade as he recalled the name of his weapon. ‘Time to let you avenge my mother’s death at last.’

  Resting the broad blade across his shoulder Logan stalked across the overturned BMW.

  In any normal circumstance, Logan should have felt remorse for whoever had been inside the now burning wreckage of the second vehicle. Staring at the smouldering wreck, he knew those that had been inside represented the same twisted, cultish ilk as Viktor. Truth be known, he felt nothing but contempt. He knew no ordinary seventeen-year-old boy should consider his actions as acceptable. In the circumstances, Logan could not consider himself normal.

  Having faced a demonic beast born from the darkness, wrestled and fought with half-dead creatures and witnessed his mother’s murder, how could he be considered anything close to normal?

  Moving around the smoking car Logan was pleased to see Viktor squeezing himself through the shattered windscreen as he walked around the dented bonnet.

  ‘You.’ Viktor snarled as his bloodied hands fought to pull himself through the jagged hole in the glass. ‘You’re the last person I thought I would see again.’

  ‘And you’re the one person I wanted to see again!’ Logan spat as he kicked the sword that lay on the pavement just out of Viktor’s reach.

  ‘It’s not exactly a fair fight if you leave me without recourse to your vengeance.’

  Logan smirked as he sauntered up in front of Viktor and towered over him. Bending down, his own sword still resting on his shoulder, Logan spoke to him, his words laced with venom.

  ‘Did you think you wouldn’t see me again?’ Logan leaned in close to Viktor. ‘What person could walk away from a murderer like you?’

  ‘Your father for one.’ Viktor retorted, his one good eye fixed on Logan. ‘When I say it surprised me to see you, I expected a man and not a boy to face me seeking vengeance.’

  ‘I don’t need my father for this.’

  ‘Are you sure you can handle killing me, boy?’

  Logan had expected such quips from Viktor. In the two years, he had been hunting the leader of the obsessive Veks, Logan had played out every scenario and interaction in his head. Perched above the battered and bleeding Viktor there was nothing he was saying that had caught him by surprise.

  ‘Why don’t you ask your twisted little followers in the other car how much they think I’m worried about that?’

  Viktor twisted himself to look around and saw the plume of acrid smoke billowing into the air behind them. Smiling he returned his attention to Logan.

  ‘A little different when you drive your sword through the heart of a man, and you watch as the life leaves his eyes.’

  ‘Lucky you’ve only got one then.’ Logan retorted.

  Mulling things over Logan stood and turned away from Viktor. As he strolled away, the Austrian man chuckled.

  ‘Maybe it is better you run home to your father and come back when you are older and more capable.’

  Logan stopped in the road but kept his back to Viktor.

  For a handful of silent breaths, Logan composed himself before he decided. Sliding his right foot onto the blade of the sword he had kicked from Viktor’s grip he propelled the weapon backwards hearing it clang against the metal of the car. Hearing Viktor scrambling free Logan turned to face Viktor as he raised from the road and lifted his own sword from the floor.

  ‘I suppose it is only right to give you a fighting chance to survive you twisted, cancerous monster.’

  Twisting the sword in his hand, Viktor levelled the tip of the blade towards Logan and snarled. Blood dripped onto the road as Logan matched the stance and the two of them prepared to fight.

  2

  Time For Vengeance

  ‘I must confess,’ Viktor hissed as he wiped a trail of blood from the corner of his white eye. ‘I had expected to see your father in your position long before now.’

  ‘Vengeance is vengeance when it comes from the blood of my mother.’

  ‘But why a boy. It should be a man stood before me!’

  Viktor could see he had hit something by the contorted look of anger on Logan’s face. Knowing he was stoking the fires of revenge and clouding the younger man’s mind, he continued to press as they remained locked staring at one another.

  ‘My father thought it best to leave you,’ Logan’s voice was not as confident and secure.

  ‘Yet you defied that sentiment and come in search of me.’ Viktor smirked. ‘I would have done the same myself in your shoes.’

  Viktor twisted the sword in his hand.

  ‘I am nothing like you.’

  ‘You are more like me than your father,’ Viktor grinned. ‘You stand here and where is he? Sat at home with your sister mourning loss whereas you, like me, strive to rectify the past.’

  ‘I seek to avenge my mother.’

  ‘As do I,’ Viktor snapped and attacked.

  Viktor pounced across the tarmac between them in three neat bounds and was on Logan in a heartbeat. Sword gliding through the air, Viktor was caught by surprise as Logan raised his own blade and deflected the blow.

  ‘You’ve been practising.’

  The confidence returned to Logan as he returned the attack.

  ‘Not much else to occupy myself with while I searched for you.’

  Logan drove the blade of his own weapon down and around slicing through the air where Viktor’s right thigh had been. Sensing the movement, he moved out the blade’s reach in time to feel the razor-sharp metal slice into the fabric of his trousers.

  The two of them moved, each attack and counter-attack aimed at the other. Blades glanced and locked against one another as ground was given and gained on both sides of the fight.

  ‘Why did you call her?’ Logan yelled as he thrust his sword out at Viktor’s chest.

  Glancing the attack to the side, Viktor spun and raised his weapon. Following the momentum of the defection, Logan raised his own weapon just in time to stop the sword slicing across the side of his face.

  As their blades met,the two of them were face-to-face. The two weapons locked and unmoving between them. Logan could feel Viktor’s breath against his cheeks as they remained locked together.

  ‘She was a part in the bigger machine,’

  ‘She was my mother!’ Logan screamed.

  ‘We have all suffered loss because of what happened two years ago,’ Viktor’s functioning eye seemed to flicker with memory. ‘We all felt the pain of losing someone close to us.’

  ‘What could you have lost?’

  Their strength was almost equal as both put their body weight behind the weapons. While the blades quivered with effort and exertion neither gave an inch of space to the other.

  Logan could see Viktor favouring his side where his father’s sword had pierced his chest in the battle aboard the grounded ship long ago. Adjusting his feet, Logan pressed himself in a way to unbalance Viktor and put extra strain on the weaker side of his body.

  ‘I lost many things because of your family’s defiance.’ Viktor hissed as his brow beaded with sweat. ‘None of this was supposed to happen.’

  ‘But it did.’ Logan snapped. ‘It was you who pulled the trigger nobody else.’

  ‘You could have just handed over the legend and walked away. You could have been a normal family again.’

  ‘I don’t believe you would ever have let us free after.’ There was a doubt in his voice.

  ‘What reason would I have had to kill any of you?’ Viktor quivered as the discomfort in his injury built. ‘I may have pulled the trigger, but it was you and your family who put her in my sights, this responsibility is yours to have.’

  Viktor may have been feeling the sting of physical pain from his injury, but Logan f
elt the emotional cut of Viktor’s words. Logan’s shoulders relaxed a little, and Viktor felt the blades press back enough for him to attack.

  Pushing with all his strength, Logan stumbled backwards as Viktor’s sword slide down Logan’s broken grip. The tip of the glinting metal sliced into Logan’s shoulder sending crimson blood soaking into his clothes.

  Shrieking at the sudden searing pain Logan jumped back and grabbed at the jagged wound across his shoulder.

  ‘You killed her.’ Logan screamed, tears filling his eyes.

  ‘You made me.’

  Viktor had Logan on the back foot, and he knew it.

  Centring his own emotion, Viktor closed the younger man down and rained down a flurry of blows which pressed Logan back towards the smoking wreckage of the overturned car.

  The acrid smell of burning electrics and rubber filled the air as they neared the vehicle. Logan did all he could to fend off the attacks, but Viktor bore down on him. There was no opportunity for Logan to counterattack and as his back pressed against the crumpled bonnet of the car, he had nowhere to go.

  ‘I suppose you’ve done well to get this far.’ Viktor sneered as he pinned Logan against the car. ‘It’s just a shame we are here at all.’

  ‘What other way could there have been?’

  For a second Viktor paused. Weapon in hand he looked glared at Logan.

  The younger man looked his age. Until then, Viktor had seen Logan as another enemy who needed removing from his path, yet now he could see the youth in his opponents face.

  ‘You’re how old?’ Viktor asked.

  Logan remained quiet, his right arm throbbed from the tear in his flesh, and he struggled to hold the sword in his palm.

  ‘How old are you?’

  ‘Seventeen.’

  The number surprised Viktor. He had learned nothing about the family that had destroyed his order of Veks, his standing as their leader and his desire to fulfil his destiny. To him, they were another band of disbelievers to be cast aside. Yet there was Logan, a boy, standing tall and defiant against him.