Dark Souls: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller: Book 1 (Ravaged World)

by Sam J Fires

  Once she was certain she had everything she needed, the Rider went out to the stables, saddled up her horse, and set off for her destination, hoping that her quarry would still be intact by the time she got there.

  CHAPTER 20 – THE SCULPTOR

  Vincent had woken up by now and was thrashing against the belts, trying to break free, all to no avail. The Sculptor walked over to him. His eyes were full of malice, “You came closer to taking me down than anyone before you, I’ll give you that. Now, I’m feeling in a generous mood so…” He held up a scalpel, “…I’m going to let you decide where the first incision goes.”

  “Get away from him,” screamed Lea, thrashing about like a wild animal.

  The Sculptor looked over to Lea. “Still got that fiery spirit. It’s going to be a shame to break it.”

  “You won’t get away with this,” Lea shouted, “Travis will find you and he’ll turn you inside out.”

  This was supposed to have the effect of scaring him, but instead, the Sculptor simply looked bemused. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t buy into that. Travis is a capable man, I grant you, but he can’t be everywhere. I don’t doubt I’ll be inviting the wrath of God down on us all, but let's face it, we’ve been at death’s door every day for the last ten years, and we’ve got this far without too many problems along the way. That aside, do you think Travis is going to be able to perform his little trick before I mine?

  “Okay my dear, I’ll make you the same offer I made to your friend over there. Where would you like the first cut?”

  Lea spat in his face. One of the students, Owen rushed forward, bringing his fists back. “Not now, Owen. Let her get a fair hit in. She won’t have much chance to do anything else after that.”

  The Sculptor brought out Lea’s machete and hovered it over her face. “I think there’s something poetic about you dying at the hands of your own weapon, don’t you? He waved the machete over Lia’s limbs, trying to decide where to slice. “I think I’ll go for the throat. And…since I’ve got the creative juices flowing through me, I’m wondering how you’ll fare with multiple slices at once.” He called out to the students. “Boys, take up positions.”

  Each of the boys stood around a different part of Lea’s body and raised fresh shards of glass. “This is where you give your life for a place in the art world,” hissed the Sculptor, holding up his shard and preparing to drive it into Lea’s throat.

  The door suddenly burst open, and a troop of soldiers entered the room. They didn’t shout out any warnings. They didn’t give commands. They just went straight for the students and threw them against the wall, knocking their weapons away as they did so.

  Seeing his world about to come crashing down, the Sculptor tried to gain one little victory for himself and brought up the knife with both hands, preparing to impale Lea’s throat.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Travis walked into the room. His face was grim. “You harm her, and you’ll wish I killed you where you’re standing. I’ll teach you a thousand ways how to die before I’m done with you.”

  The Sculptor dropped the knife, raising his hands in surrender. “All right. You’ve got my attention,” he said cheerfully. “So, what happens now, Travis, you going to read me my rights?”

  “Take him away,” instructed Travis. “Take some of the shards with you. I’ve always believed in letting the punishment fit the crime. Let’s put it into practice.”

  Two soldiers grabbed the Sculptor and dragged him out of the room. “As for his… students. Kill them now.”

  It was done so quickly they didn’t even have time to bleed out before they all hit the floor simultaneously.

  Lea felt hands fumbling at her straps as Travis rushed to free her. He helped her into a sitting position while two of his soldiers freed Vincent. “Are you all right?” He was looking at her not like a soldier concerned for his troops, but as a father who’d almost lost his child.

  “I’m fine,” muttered Lea, embarrassment flooding over. “I’m just embarrassed he got the drop on me.”

  “Hey, hey, hey,” said Travis soothingly. “Listen, you almost had him. If we’d known he’d been running some Dead Poets Society knock-off, none of this would’ve happened. That’s the thing about intelligence these days. It’s always faulty and you can never rely on it. The important thing is you led us to a dangerous man who would otherwise be racking up a much higher body count, and now, the good people of Travistown are a lot safer thanks to you and Vincent.”

  “But we made a mistake,” protested Lea, feeling that she was receiving praise she didn’t deserve.

  “You think you’re the first person to make mistakes?” asked Travis. “Just makes you human. I’ve made plenty of mistakes in my lifetime and I’m probably going to make many more before I’m done. Enjoy this little victory. You’ve both earned it.” Travis beckoned one of the soldiers. “Take her and Vincent back to Travistown. I’ve got to finish up here.”

  The soldier nodded before escorting Lea and Vincent out of the room.

  Travis looked at the utensils that had been laid out by the Sculptor in preparation for his experiment. If he’d gotten there just a few minutes late…

  “Is Lea out of the building?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir, we’ve seen to it.”

  “Good, take me down to where the prisoner has been taken. We need to have a little heart-to-heart.”

  He allowed the officers to escort him out the room, down a corridor to an unused bedroom where the Sculptor was tied to a chair, two guards standing over him. “You know, this is the second time I’ve found myself in this position today,” he muttered.

  One of the soldiers said, “We haven’t laid a finger on him, sir. Figured you’d want the honor of drawing first blood.”

  Travis smiled grimly. “I appreciate that, boys. Maybe you can give us the room. Check through this entire building while you’re at it and see if there’s anything worth salvaging.”

  Given the size of the sanctuary, it was clear this was going to be a lengthy task, but the soldiers knew better than to question Travis. “Understood, sir.” With that, they left the room, closing the door behind them.

  For a moment, Travis didn’t say anything, simply pacing up and down the room, lost in thought.

  Finally, he said, “You going to tell me what that was all about?”

  The Sculptor blinked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Oh, don’t play the dumb act with me. We both know it doesn’t fit you, Marty. We had an agreement. I don’t give a damn what you do to Vincent, but Lea was supposed to be off-limits. What was she doing on the goddamn table?”

  The Sculptor shrugged. “Just a bit of theater to make it look convincing. You think the act would have been sellable if I’d left her completely untouched?”

  Travis could see his point. The Sculptor continued. “I knew you would get to her in time. I was just having a little fun, and considering that she stabbed me in the gut, I suppose you could say we’re even.”

  Travis shrugged. “Girl knows what she’s doing. I trained her well.”

  “Maybe a little too well. Anyway, you’re changing the goalposts for our relationship?”

  Travis feigned ignorance. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I did what you wanted. I killed the farmer, as per your specifications. I did my best to make sure he didn’t suffer too much. It’s better than what most people get. It’s certainly better than what I wanted. I also helped you out with that loudmouth bitch. I think we both know that was more for your benefit than for mine. I thought I could have some fun with the next lot, but you put a stop to that with your big damn hero moment.”

  “Sorry, but plans change. Lea took out one of the Gun Runners.”

  “Holy crap.”

  “Holy crap indeed. They’re not going to do anything right now. Audrey Collins is many things, but an impulsive woman? No. She’ll bide her time, wait for the right moment to strike. Not today, prob
ably not tomorrow, but that day will come sooner rather than later. I needed to offer up a sacrificial lamb.”

  “Is that why I’ve been busted? To cover your ass?”

  “Something along those lines, yes.”

  “So, what happens to me now?”

  “You’re going to have to go underground for a little while until such a time when we need you again.”

  “Underground?” repeated the Sculptor.

  “Yes. Can’t have you skulking around scaring everyone in Travistown. They wouldn’t know what to make of it.”

  “I’ve not finished my spree,” protested the Sculptor. “You still owe me three more bodies.”

  “You’ll get them, but not right now. You have no idea what I am trying to achieve on a wider scale. It’s more important than your little torture-fest. You’ll do exactly as I say, without question.”

  “You had no problem using my services to take out those two sorry sacks and incriminating the Gun Runners.”

  “That was a means to an end. I feel dirty even talking to you.”

  “You know what I think?” asked the Sculptor. “I think you’re just like me. You’re not above a bit of blood and carnage yourself. You just do a better job of hiding it than I do.”

  Travis looked away, not wanting to give him the benefit of being right.

  The Sculptor didn’t say anything for a moment. Travis presumed he had gotten through to the man, but then, he added, “It must be nice being you.”

  “How do you mean?” replied Travis.

  “Being in a position of power. But you’ve forgotten what it’s like for someone to have leverage over you.”

  “What leverage?”

  “The girl. I saw the way you looked at her.”

  “She’s useful to me,” struggled Travis.

  “Bullshit. We both know you have a soft spot for her. Daddy’s little girl. I saw it the moment you burst into the lab. It took every ounce of self-control you possessed not to cut me down there and then. She thinks very highly of you, she’d probably die for you if you asked her to, but it’s funny how perceptions change with only a few simple facts.”

  Now Travis was on full alert. “What are you trying to say?”

  “Imagine if she knew about our little agreement. How you’d set me loose on Travistown — your people, mind you. Now, it makes no difference to me what kind of long game you’re playing, but I bet you’re willing to sink to some interesting lows to play it. What if the girl knew that you were behind my little spree? You know how gossip travels. People in power forget how little it takes to lose that power. A few badly chosen words and Travistown will fall apart like a pack of cards.”

  Travis gritted his teeth. “What exactly is it you want?”

  “Three more bodies in exchange for my si—”

  He never got the chance to finish.

  Travis jammed Lea’s machete into his throat and ripped it out. Gurgling blood, the Sculptor looked at Travis, shocked by the move he didn’t see coming before he finally stopped breathing.

  Satisfied that the man had taken his secrets to the grave, Travis left the room, putting the past behind him and thinking of the future that lay ahead for Travistown.

  The End

  ______________

  I hope you enjoyed Dark Souls, book #1 of the Ravaged World epic series

  Don’t miss book #2 Fear of Dark!

  It’s a decade after the apocalypse - the planet is suffocating. So is humanity.

  Although the future seems dark, there is hope. Travis has dealt with The Sculptor, the sadistic murderer who ran riot in the city. The survivors are getting help and support from Donna and Ross. And Lea discovers the joys of the sea.

  But out of the blue there’s an attack on the Clinic and Donna must muster all her strength and resolve to save the others. She’s on her own, with no help. Can she slay the monster who is out to kill her?

  Order it now on Amazon HERE! (link to follow)

  (Only $0.99 and FREE on Kindle Unlimited)

  To receive an exclusive novella about the sandstorms, and the causes, please join my newsletter and I’ll send it to you. It’s not quite finished yet; it’s in progress, and it may be a few weeks yet, (depending on when you read this book). The story is for my subscribers and won’t be found elsewhere. How did the apocalypse happen? Sign up HERE!

  ALSO BY SAM FIRES

  CRIMSON RAGE

  Nemesis (the prequel) - FREE story

  Book 1 Crimson Rage

  Book 2 Level Sands

  Book 3 Desert Rats

  Book 4 The Sandman

  Book 5 Force Hurricane

  MAYHEM & MADNESS

  Bad Boys Make Broken Men (the prequel) - FREE story

  Book 1 Burning Rains

  Book 2 Holy Hell

  Book 3 Girl in the Sewer

  Book 4 We, The President

  SCAVENGERS

  Book 1 Dog Meat

  Book 2 Shark Tactics

  Book 3 Sharks’ Fury

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  In my day job I’m a lawyer. I enjoy working in the law, but this doesn’t allow for any creativity, so I must have a release valve, which is reading. Psychological thrillers, detective books, and any sci-fi I can get my hands on. I love Stephen King, Dean Koontz, and Margaret Atwood is one of my favorite authors. The Handmaid’s Tale is an incredible book, very insightful into human behavior and how people react in extremely stressful situations. It was this book that inspired me to write. I never thought I would have the time, but it’s amazing what you can do in the early hours of the morning!

  Since I started my writing career a little over a year ago, I have scoured the post-apocalyptic and dystopian fiction arena for inspiration. My first work was a dystopian trilogy named ‘Scavengers’. In this short series I wanted to explore the idea, what if when everything is all but lost, scrap becomes a commodity? How would humans live in such a world? I really enjoyed testing the characters to their limits in this series.

  I have since published my second series in the world of post-apocalyptic fiction ‘Madness & Mayhem’ and ‘Crimson Rage’ which is the prequel series to the dystopian epic series Ravaged World.

  What do I like to do in my spare time? Well, to be honest, it’s this. Creating apocalyptic and dystopian worlds, testing the characters, and trying to find their breaking point. I also enjoy the marketing, meeting new authors in the genre and swapping books. It’s quite a community!

  Being a published author has always been my dream and finally this has become a reality. But now my ambition is to make this a full-time occupation. The idea of living a laptop lifestyle is very attractive as it will give me the freedom that I have never had to work anywhere in the world, particularly as the whole of my working life so far has been firmly stationed in an office. I live in the northeast of the UK which gets cold, dark, and miserable in the winters. How nice it would be to be able to pop down to the south of Spain in the winters to work on my books. This way I could kill two birds with one stone and improve my conversational Spanish!

  When I’m not practicing the law, reading, writing, or watching Spanish films on Netflix, I love to cook Indian food and chill out in my local coffee shop.

  I love to hear from my readers, email me at hello@samjfires.com.You can also follow me on Facebook: SAM FIRES AUTHOR PAGE

  PLEASE WILL YOU REVIEW MY BOOK?

  Thank you for reading Dark Souls. It really means the world to me that you have bought my book. Writing is my passion, and I am always looking at ways to write better content and awesome stories, which is why your feedback is so important to me.

  It would be a big help if you could leave a review on Amazon for this book. I completely understand that you’ll be busy and writing reviews can seem like a chore! But all I ask is just a line or two (or more if you like!) giving your honest feedback. This would really help.

  To make things easy, I have included the link to Amazon’s review page here:

  REVIEW DARK S
OULS ON AMAZON (link to follow)

  If you can’t review on Amazon (and I know not everybody can) then a review on Goodreads would be just as awesome!

  REVIEW DARK SOULS ON GOODREADS

  If you would like news on my latest releases, special offers, or free books, please drop me a line at hello@samjfires.com and I’ll add you to my subscriber list.

  Thanks for reading.

  From your friend,

  Sam J Fires

  CRIMSON RAGE PREVIEW

  Only a few noticed the first sprinkles fall from the cloud. Partly because they were too minute to be seen, and partly because people were too wrapped up in their everyday lives to notice.

  And they had been told to expect sunny skies on that day.

  The last day of Jed’s career as a meteorologist was, perhaps, the most eventful ever. He would have called it ‘saving the bizarre for last’.

  Jed had been working in the profession for nearly thirty years and had become accustomed to the daily routine and the growing mundanity of it all. Once, in his younger, more ambitious years, Jed might have hoped to be witness to some great anomaly or have contributed a world-stopping invention to the field of meteorology. Something to place him in the halls of fame among the likes of Beaufort and Hadley. However, he seemed doomed to fade into obscurity. At one time, this would have troubled him no end, but now, he had reconciled himself to the lack of prestige.

  But what was happening to Jed today would have elevated him to the history books, had he lived to report it.

  His anemometers registered a sudden mass increase in wind speed, snapping him out from his melancholic reminiscences. The readings were off the chart, unlike anything he’d seen before. Jed hurried outside, looking to the heavens, as though expecting a sign. White clouds floating amongst a blue ocean looked down at him, giving no hint of what was to come.