Fallocaust (The Fallocaust Series Book 1)

by Quil Carter

  As I walked back into the small camp, I looked around to see if I could spot Killian’s body or a part of it. I wasn’t surprised to see a half-eaten torso leaning up against a rusted out shell of a car, but it wasn’t Killian. I would look in the caravans later; I didn’t want to waste any more time. I was pushing it already.

  I picked up a machete that had been resting up against the fire. I threw it up in the air and caught it. With a small smile, I walked over to one of the legionaries.

  I raised the machete and brought it down on his right leg. By the time he woke up, I had already chopped his second kneecap. I stepped over to the man next to him, and before he had a chance to react I did the same to him.

  Then chaos erupted.

  They started to scream, of course, and loudly. As the other three were struggling to get to their feet, I disappeared from the scene and into the shadows. I could hear hysterical shrieks and lots of yelling as I climbed up the back of the bus. I crawled over to the dead watchman and started to cut him open. The hive of madness below me made my heart swell with sadistic joy.

  I missed hearing those screams of agony. I missed the excitement I felt from hearing them in pain.

  I started to feel high. I brought myself up to my knees as I dug my hand into the guard’s bloody chest cavity. I cut his heart free and held the dripping organ in my hand. I laughed maniacally.

  The men suddenly became very silent below me. I stood up and looked down at them.

  Three of them were scattered around the camp, holding their machetes in their hands. They looked up at me and I could see the fear in their eyes. My heart was racing; my whole chest heaved and vibrated with the energy around me. Their fear got me off more than any drug ever could.

  “You took something from me.” My voice was a demonic rasp. I squeezed the heart in my hand and glared down at them, the bloody machete in my other hand.

  “It’s the Raven!” a voice suddenly snarled. I looked down to see one of the legionaries crawling on his chest, a thick streak of blood trailing behind him. “Fucking kill him you dumb fucks!”

  I laughed, as the other soldiers looked nervously at me, none of them making the first move. I dropped the heart onto the ground and jumped down from the bus. My boots hit the pavement hard but my knees barely buckled under the impact.

  They look one look at me – and started to run. One of the legionary I had crippled started shrieking, calling them every name in the book.

  My predator instincts kicked in. I perused them as they ran down the moonlit ramp.

  I focused my vision on the first one. My face split into a grin so wide anyone who saw it would know I had lost my mind. As the man weaved in between cars I ran up them, jumping from car roof to car roof. As soon as he was in reach, I jumped off of the roof of a large van and landed on his back.

  He slammed down on the ground screaming; his shrill voice holding the panic of someone who knew he was about to die.

  I sunk my teeth into his throat and clamped down with all my strength.

  My teeth gnashed through his windpipe. As I pulled the chunk of skin away I could feel his warm blood start to flow over my mouth. He grabbed my hair and feebly tried to pull me off, but he was no match for me. The screaming turned into gurgling.

  I spat the large chunk of flesh away and kept biting, his warm blood rushing into my mouth with every beat from his heart. The taste sent a jolt of sick pleasure through my body. I kept biting, kept swallowing his blood until I could feel my teeth hit the back of his spine. The gurgling had already stopped half a minute before.

  I looked up. The other soldiers were about ten meters away, frozen in shock as I ate the throat of their comrade. As soon as they saw me look up they started running again.

  I let out a low chuckle. Like a deacon after a rat I started to run after them, the legionary’s blood all over my face.

  As I leapt from one car to the other, the next legionary kept looking behind him in a panic. He could see me start to gain on him. I jumped onto the pavement, a car and a half behind him, and took the last several steps towards him. He screamed and disappeared behind a rust-streaked cube van. I turned the corner and licked my red-stained lips in the most vile manner I could muster.

  The whites of his eyes glowed in the moonlight. He was shaking so hard he was almost convulsing, and when I looked down I saw he had pissed his pants. I laughed and took another step.

  He gasped and backed up until his back hit the median. He looked down and so did I. It was over a fifty foot drop.

  He took one last look at me and jumped off.

  The legionary shrieked as he fell, and made a satisfying thump as his soft body hit the ground below. I glanced down to make sure he hadn’t survived. I could see blood and brain matter splattered around him, I knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

  I was disappointed but I didn’t let it dampen my spirits for too long.

  I ran my finger along the bloodstained machete and smiled.

  “Oh so alone, where are your friends now?” I said loudly. “So powerful when you’re in a group, such cowards when you’re separated. Like fucking dogs.”

  In the silence I could hear the legionary’s heartbeat, so fast I wouldn’t be surprised if he was having a panic attack. I took a second and tasted his fear; it turned me on more than I wanted to admit. It was so thick in the air it could be cut with a knife. It stuck on him like sweat.

  “My family is rich,” a small pathetic voice sounded from behind a mound of rubble. As I approached I could see him cowering. A brown-haired little fuck, scrawny as shit. I wouldn’t be surprised if this was his first year out of Skyfall.

  I watched him cower.

  “You raped my property,” I said, my words like acid, “you killed someone I loved.”

  The boy shook his head rapidly. “No… I… I was just put on as a relief for Peele. I’ve only… this is my first night. I just came off of the truck.”

  I narrowed my eyes, still holding the machete in my hand. “Did they take the merchants’ bodies with them?”

  The boy nodded, snot as running down his face. “They traded them for tokens and food.”

  My heart clenched. I didn’t want to ask it but I had too. “Did they have a blond kid with them?”

  “Yeah.”

  I felt sick, my hands shaking. The kid looked up at me, still cowering like a beaten dog. I bit my lip hard. I could feel the plastic blade handle start to crack from my grip.

  Without another word I raised the machete, and cut his head off with one swing.

  It rolled away, resting up against the median, the body slumped back. I could hear blood gushing out of it. I turned away and walked silently back to camp. There were two more soldiers waiting for me.

  When I walked back into their camp, Greyson was waiting for me. He had the two crippled legionaries tied up by the fire.

  “Jesus fuck, Reaver.” Greyson grimaced when he noticed my face. I didn’t know what I looked like at that moment but I knew my lips and the bottom half of my face were probably covered in blood.

  “They took him on the truck,” I said quietly, before walking over to the tied-up legionaries. One of them was crying his eyes out, the other giving me a death glare. It was easy to pick out which one was the leader.

  “Raven. He said you would come for him,” the leader said, his face was a stone statue.

  It took every ounce of self-control not to show on my face what my heart was feeling at that moment.

  “Then you should know what’s going to happen next,” I replied placidly. I watched out of the corner of my eye as Greyson stepped back. It seemed he knew too.

  The leader scoffed and smiled at me. My blood started to boil.

  “I’m not afraid to die,” he replied.

  I bent down beside him and, placing the tip of the machete against his throat, I raised his chin. “No, you should be more afraid to live,” I whispered.

  The leader looked down at me. I could see a single trickle of blood s
tart to drip down the blade.

  “Where did they take his body?” I asked quietly, my head turning as I twisted the blade. The leader looked at me for a second and laughed.

  “You’re going to kill me anyway, Raven. Why would I tell you shit?”

  I smiled and brought the machete down to his crotch. I grabbed onto his black pants and roughly cut through the button, slicing his stomach as I did. I started pulling his pants off.

  “Funny, I just ripped his pants off a few hours ago,” the leader said.

  Though rage washed through me, my determination controlled it. I wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction of knowing he got to me. I pushed my anger down with everything else and kept my calm.

  I tore his pants completely off and tossed the machete around with one hand.

  I could hear the other legionary start to sob harder.

  “Where did they take his body?” I asked again. I looked down at this now half-naked man. His sliced kneecaps, gaping and open, were leaving pools of blood wherever he rested them. The wounds were deep; he knew he was fucked.

  Sure enough, he continued to look me right in the eye and remained silent.

  “Greyson?” I said placidly.

  “Yes, Reaver?” Greyson said behind me. He sounded a bit sick.

  “Hold his leg back.”

  I heard Greyson swear under his breath, so quietly I could barely hear it. He appeared behind me, and with a grim look on his face, he knelt over the leader and held his right leg back.

  The other soldier started screaming hysterically. “Fuck, fuck… Dad, just… fuck, just tell him!”

  My eyes darted over to him. The boy, probably Killian’s age, was red-faced with panic. I let out a laugh, hardly believing my luck. “Dad? Oh this is your son! Well, that changes everything!” I snarled. I heard Greyson swear again.

  “You idiot!” the leader screamed, making his kid cower. I almost felt my brain orgasm as I heard the fear dominate his voice.

  Oh the sweet spot… I hit the sweet spot. This was going to be fun. If Greyson wasn’t around I just might’ve raped him on top of his father. I think I would’ve been able to do that with the rush coursing through my body.

  Well, I could do the next best thing.

  I grabbed the boy and threw him on top of the leader. I got my combat knife and cut his pants off; he started to cry out in fear. He didn’t move, his bound hands resting up against his father’s stomach, he was kneeling in between his legs.

  The boy was hysterical, it was wonderful.

  I picked up my machete, ignoring the horrified looks Greyson was giving me.

  “Don’t scream, don’t fucking give him that!” the dad yelled. The boy didn’t stop though, I could see tears and snot dripping down onto his father’s chest.

  “I want Mom,” he whimpered.

  The dad let out a desperate groan. I could see his face tense and his teeth clench.

  I laughed and pressed the machete up against his son’s asshole.

  The leader looked at me in helpless horror.

  “Don’t hurt him! I’ll tell you, fuck. Don’t hurt him, HE’S JUST A FUCKING KID!” he screamed desperately.

  “AND SO WAS KILLIAN!” I snarled back.

  I pressed my machete up against the kid’s hole. He shrieked so loudly his voice gave out. I watched as the blood started to drip down from his ass onto the pavement between his dad’s legs. The leader’s face was pale and panic-stricken. He started to thrash, trying desperately to get loose. The binds and Greyson’s grip held firm.

  “Where is his fucking body?! TELL ME!” I demanded, twisting the blade into the kid. More blood fell.

  “DAD!” the legionary shrieked. The leader took another look at him and his eyes shot up to meet mine.

  “You fucking idiot, he isn’t dead!”

  I paused, still pressing my blade up against the kid. The whole world suddenly went quiet around me. The kid was tuned out, the world was tuned out.

  I stared at him.

  “Killian’s alive?”

  The leader struggled, his eyes burning into my own. “Let my boy go, I’ll tell you where.”

  “He’s free, you have my word. Where is Killian?” I said flatly.

  The leader looked down at his sobbing son and watched as I took the blade away from his ass, the tip glistening red.

  “Typhus Canyon Factory,” the leader replied. “We get more tokens if they’re alive. The sooner you fuck off the better chance he’ll still be alive.”

  My eyes traced his face for deception but I saw nothing. I didn’t know why but I almost felt angry at the false hope he had given me.

  He stared back at me as our eyes continued to lock, in a stare-down that we both knew would only have one winner. The once confident countenance was shattered and now the leader just looked afraid. Though none of that fear was for himself, that much I knew. It was all for this boy on top of him.

  This boy was his world but he had taken my world from me.

  In a fluid motion, I brought back the machete and drove it into the kid’s ass. It was halfway up before the tip hit a bone.

  The kid screamed and struggled for a few moments, before collapsing on top of his father. I pushed down on the handle, moving the tip over the bone and pushed the remainder of the blade slowly into him. When I was done, only the plastic handle was sticking out of his ass.

  I watched him cough blood as he choked, droplets spattering over his father’s face like spray paint. His father was silent, his face frozen in incomprehensible shock. The kid choked and moaned, then he started seizing. The last movements of a dying man.

  I stood up and drank in the scene. The father’s look of horror filled me up with such joy I couldn’t put it into words. Blood ran all over his chest, as it dripped from the boy’s slacked mouth. It fell onto the blue lion emblem on his armour and blended together to almost create purple. The boy, no longer twitching, just lay there, half-naked, with the plastic handle sticking up out of him. His white skin, such a contrast to the deep reds of his blood.

  Such colours, every single one of them shimmering in the firelight, like the surface of a lake under the full moon. It was like art.

  Beautiful.

  I walked over to the shell-shocked leader, leaned down and patted his cheek.

  “I told you that you should be more afraid to live,” I whispered. I raised my combat knife and cut his binds free. Greyson let go of his leg as I did and stood up.

  “If you can find your way to safety, you’re free to live,” I said with a smile.

  “My… my knees,” the leader managed to choke. When I turned around to walk away, the boy was still slumped over him.

  “I see it… as a challenge,” I called back to him. I heard Greyson swearing under his breath.

  “Jesus fuck, Reaver,” Greyson whispered. He sounded thoroughly horrified by my actions, but his opinion of me was the last thing on my mind.

  Killian could still be alive.

  I leaned down and picked up a second machete that was resting beside one of the sleeping mats. With a smile on my face I spun it up in the air and caught it. I was about to speak to Greyson when something out of the corner of my eye made me turn.

  “REAVER, DUCK!” Greyson screamed.

  The leader, a look of agony on his blood-splattered face, was pointing a gun at me. Then there was a flash of light as he pulled the trigger. I could see Greyson’s face in slow motion. I had never seen him more scared.

  I felt a powerful impact on my head, right above my forehead. It almost knocked me off of my feet. Then a split second later, another cracking bang, followed by another impact, this time on the side of my head.

  My mind went fuzzy. I stumbled around confused, not knowing what just happened.

  The world started to spin. I could hear Greyson screaming “NO” over and over again and then my name.

  Wow… was he ever screaming. Why? I was fine.

  I felt another impact on my head. I was able to take two
more steps forward before everything went black.

  Burning.

  Burning inside my chest, a colourless void that seemed to hold only a single flame. I felt it feed on itself, becoming stronger and stronger with each passing moment. Though it wasn’t a good feeling. It felt like my head was being seared by the surface of the sun. It seemed to take me to the edge of madness again and again only to bring me back with white-hot hands.

  I tried to scream but I didn’t have a mouth. I was in darkness, though nothing was black, it was just not there. I was scared, confused.

  All I could feel was the heat, and a steady drumming in the background that could have been my heartbeat.

  Killian.

  Eventually I remembered who he was. I thought of him. I knew he was near, but I couldn’t reach him. I wanted to reach out to touch him, but I had no hands. I wanted to call for him, but I had no voice. Just pain all around me, burning and pain. I was floating in non-existence, time was no longer relevant.

  Then suddenly, after what seemed like forever, it was gone. By the time I realized I had a body again, I could see light through my eyelids.

  I opened my eyes, seeing the dull grey sky above me. I was warm. Something was covering me. I could also hear the fire, near enough to me that I could feel the heat. The air smelled like burning flesh and car tires. It made me hungry.

  “Hey…” Greyson’s voice said quietly. I heard a chuckle. “You woke up.”

  “What happened?” I grimaced. I held my head. It was a steady cluster of dull and throbbing pain. As I moved my hand around I could feel several blood-caked scabs.

  “The leader pulled out a rubber bullet gun and shot you, three times in the fucking head. It knocked you out cold for a long time,” Greyson said, removing the blanket he had draped over me. He helped me over to a car tire resting beside the fire.