by Brian Rella
Judson Whitaker was a New England thoroughbred from the right family with the right connections and more money than the Massachusetts state budget. The media bent his story, and made him out to be a blue-blooded murdering son-of-a-bitch whose weekend acid trip had gone bad, turning him into the likes of Charles Manson. He was now suspect in the case, and the police had been searching for hard evidence against him. He was covered in blood—not his blood, he was unharmed—when he stumbled into the Ranger’s station near the beginning of the Wenatchee trails. They were holding him in the county jail now awaiting new evidence. But none was forthcoming—no one could account for the whereabouts of the other kids he was with, including one Senator Caine’s daughter, Susan. How could four people just disappear? Where had all the blood come from? What had really happened? Those were the questions the State Police had been trying unsuccessfully to answer to the media hounds for the last few weeks. The pressure was mounting, and so the Governor had reached out to the West Coast chapter of the Order, and they had been mobilized to investigate and see if there was anything to the crazed kid’s claims.
Another hundred yards into the forest, a small log cabin appeared. It had been constructed in the center of a small clearing. Signs of the police investigation were still apparent. The police had left the place surrounded in yellow plastic tape, the high grass and plant life had been trampled, and the remnants of a staging area for their equipment remained.
Brennan had gone past the cabin to the edge of the tree-line, scanning the thick forest. Titus and Domino went in through the front door of the cabin and saw a gaping hole in the wall out the back. “The wall,” Domino said, “It was pulled outward.” They inspected the rest of the cabin, but there wasn’t much to see. A musty, stained king-sized mattress, a fire pit with a metal grate over it that exhausted through a hole in the roof, and a kettle that stood on top of the grate.
Titus stared at the rapidly fading sunlight on the floor before looking up at the sky through the hole in the roof. Dark clouds were rolling in. His neck prickled as a dread-filled premonition formed in his mind. He felt Domino come to his side and pulled her close.
“Where’s Brennan?” he asked, locking eyes with her.
“AHHHHH!” Brennan’s voice trailed off amid snapping sticks and dragging sounds. Titus ran to the hole in the wall and saw Brennan being dragged away, by…something.
“Brennan!” Titus shouted, and launched himself through the hole and after his friend. Something slapped him back, hard, and he smashed into what was left of the cabin wall, knocking the rest of the structure down. On his back, dazed, he glanced up, and saw trees bending toward him, their branches like spears coming down on him. There was a sudden flash of blue above him, exploding the tree-limb-spears before they could stick him.
Titus leaped to his feet. Domino was at his side in a blur.
“Lythalia,” Domino said, clenching her jaw.
“Let’s move,” Titus said.
They darted through the forest after Brennan at Watcher speed, their weapons glowing in their hands leaving trails of color behind them. Titus’ red staff was a blur as he slashed at the forest that viciously attacked from all around him. Domino was just behind him, her rapier like yellow lightning as she slashed at the branches and vines that threatened to snare her.
A guttural, feminine laugh echoed through the forest. Lythalia, the Fallen Goddess of the Forest, had somehow been freed from her prison in the Second Death.
“Watch out!” Titus shouted, seeing the rising wave of plant life come at them from out of the corner of his eye. He thrust himself forward, a ball of blue light exploding from his hands into the wave of green that rose up and threatened to swallow him and his wife.
His blast cut through the wave and Domino fell to the ground under the weight of the debris. Titus stopped to help her, and the woods came alive around them, attacking from all angles.
Trees uprooted themselves, and stalked toward them, their branches and roots becoming stabbing weapons. They encircled the Watchers, closing in. Titus and Domino stood back to back in the center. Domino leaned her head to the side and whispered into Titus’ ear, “Let’s get some, baby.”
“I love you, girl,” he said.
Her rapier was a vibrant golden blur against the dark shadow of the attacking forest, cutting through the limbs that attempted to impale them both.
Titus rammed the end of his staff into the trunk of one of the trees and slashed upward, gashing Lythalia’s underling. The tree roared as it split up the center, forming a ragged “V” that fell to either side.
Something stabbed his ankle, and continued up his leg, stabbing his calf, knee, and thigh. He swatted at his lower leg. A vine covered in three-inch-long thorns coiled around his leg and hoisted him in the air. He swiped at it with the edge of his staff, the vine severed, and Titus fell to the ground as blood, warm and wet, flowed into his boot.
The forest closed around them and the arena narrowed. Screw this. We gotta get outta here and get after Brennan.
“Burn ‘em!” he called to Domino.
“Fal’shjkt ‘rah!” he shouted and torrents of fire flew from his palms. The forest blazed and bellowed at him.
Plumes of flame erupted from Domino’s hands, and soon the whole area was burning and the attacking forest retreated, a rainstorm of smoldering embers dancing in the air around them.
“Come on!” Domino shouted and darted off through the forest in the direction Brennan had been dragged.
“Wait!” Titus called after her, but she was already making a trail in front of him.
Damn, he thought and sped after her.
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QUEEN OF THE FALLEN: BOOK 2 OF THE SECOND DEATH
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Secluded in the forbidding catacombs of an extinct volcano, Jessie’s training in black magic and descent into evil is complete. Her mission to raise an army and free Nalsuu continues across the barren Arizona desert, where she must find and free the treacherous Dalkhu, who has the power to release Nalsuu from the Second Death.
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I hope you enjoyed Watchers of the Fallen: Book One of the Second Death. If you did enjoy this book, please help spread the word to other readers. The best way to do that is to leave a review.
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I want to leave you with a sincere thank you for reading my book and for providing an honest review. I really am tremendously grateful for your continued support. You are helping me follow my dream of being a full time author and I can't th
ank you enough.
My very best wishes to you and your loved ones,
Brian Rella
About the Author
Brian lives in Tarrytown, NY with his wife, who is far too good for him, and his two vivacious boys who challenge his light-saber skills daily. Most of his writing is done on the train to the cube farm where he works so he can buy stuff. He published his first book in 2015 and hopes to write from his beachfront property overlooking the Mare Tranquillitatis one day.
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Also by Brian Rella
Have you read them all?
In The Second Death Series
Queen of the Fallen: Book Two of the Second Death
Jessie’s mission to raise an army and free Nalsuu continues across the barren Arizona desert. There she must find and free the treacherous Dalkhu, who has the power to release Nalsuu from the Second Death. But a rogue Watcher and the U.S. government stand in her way with a new weapon that could kill the Fallen and her plans to destroy the world.
Click Here To Buy It Now
The Short Story Collection
Monsters & Demons: A Collection of Short Horror Stories
Brian Rella brings together his best of 2015. His collection of short horror stories will indulge your dark side. This horror anthology contains seven contemporary tales of terror that will lead you down a twisted path of suspense and revenge.
Click Here To Buy It Now
Copyright © 2016 by Brian
All rights reserved.
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 written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Brian Rella
Elder and King
New York
www.brianrella.com
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
