Immortal Works LLC
P.O. Box 25492
Salt Lake City, Utah 84125
Tel: (385) 202-0116
© 2017 Daniel Swenson
http://www.dungeoncrawlersradio.com/
Cover Art by Brian C. Hailes
https://www.artstation.com/artist/bchailes
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For more information email [email protected] or visit
http://www.immortal-works.com/contact/
AISN B071D34422 (Kindle Edition)
ISBN 978-0-9990205-0-0 (paperback)
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
EPILOGUE
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
This book is dedicated to my wife, Christa,
and my children, who loved and supported
me throughout this grand adventure. Also to
my grandfather, who long ago took a little
boy fishing and let him know that all his
dreams were possible.
A giant fireball lit up the sky as an ear-deafening explosion rocked the small Irish village of Ardmore. Spiraling gouts of flames erupted from the Union Forest drilling site, causing the ground to shake throughout the village. Many of the nearby buildings gave way to the tremors while the villagers ran in panic.
Amongst the commotion, a dark, infernal form climbed to the rim of the massive hole and flew out of the hellish firestorm. Death wandered the streets with glee as the creature unleashed its fury. Its evil designs rained down chaos upon the village.
Enormous balls of fire belched from the sky, as if by magic, decimating everything they touched. Buildings, benches, street signs, even cars exploded upon contact. The villagers ran, desperately seeking shelter as fast as their feet could carry them. The wind whipped through the village, tossing villagers around like rag dolls. Screams echoed off the walls of the buildings along the streets while more flames rained down from the pitch-colored clouds above. Some of the villagers attempted to put out the flames with their meager garden hoses, spraying water on the flames. Nevertheless, the water, which would normally extinguish the flames, only fanned the flames to greater intensity as though the residents sprayed kerosene on them. It was as if the very laws of nature had been rewritten.
When the firefighters finally arrived on the scene, they immediately battled the flames. However, as soon as they rolled out their hoses, the Beast flew down out of the clouds in all its terrible glory. Terror gripped the hearts of everyone who witnessed its stocky, elongated body with its muscular limbs. A row of spines ran down its back, separating its obsidian scales that reflected like sheets of dark glass. Its head was wide with dark red malevolent eyes that burned with their own inner light. The firefighters froze as the creature swooped down, engulfing them in flames.
The nearby villagers cried out as the creature swiveled its body in the sky, returning for another pass. It opened its maw and a stream of flame rushed out, melting and destroying everything in its path. As the creature swooped past, it reached out with one of its mighty reptilian legs and dug its claws deep into the metal frame of the fire engine. The foul thing scooped up the several-ton vehicle and swooped back into the sky with ease. It hovered in the air, gripping the twisted metal frame of the fire engine, and surveyed the destruction below. Its eyes gleamed with glee, and a wicked toothy grin creased its infernal face in satisfaction.
The creature spotted a small group of villagers running and dodging the flames desperately searching for a place of safety. It roared and threw the massive vehicle aside as if it were nothing more than a broken, discarded child's toy. The fire engine slammed into the side of an old market, killing everyone inside.
It bellowed a triumphant cry and then swooped down upon the fleeing villagers, incinerating them before ascending into the dark clouds.
None of the villagers were safe from the creature's fury.
After centuries of slumber, the creature awakened to the cravings of death and ash. For hundreds of years, it had slept deep beneath the surface of the earth undisturbed until the incessant noise of the Union Forest drills that had burrowed down into its home had rudely awoken it.
The local government had commissioned Union Forest to drill for oil in the small village of Ardmore after the discovery of a new, deep, and potentially valuable deposit of the black liquid. Many governments had been desperately seeking new deposits of oil and fossil fuels since the oil fields in the Arabian Desert had dried up. Every country worked to find the next big score, including the Irish government, which had hired Union Forest to bore deep into the earth to search for new sources of oil. After the discovery of a new, deep, and potentially valuable well of black liquid, the local government had commissioned Union Forest to drill for oil in the small village of Ardmore.
Instead of vast deposits of black gold as expected, the drilling team stumbled upon something locked away, thought lost to the world. This unexpected discovery had come with a price because an ancient and sinister evil guarded it.
Henry Morgan slapped his hand down on the alarm clock, turning off its annoying chirping and knocking it from its perch upon his nightstand. The morning sun glared through a small opening between his curtains, which beat upon his face. He rolled over and pulled the covers over his head, not yet ready to face the world. The chirp of the alarm resounded from somewhere near the floor. Perturbed, he tossed the covers to the side and sat up, stifling a yawn.
Most of the night Henry had tossed and turned because of a strange reoccurring dream, filled with men adorned in armor fighting off creatures of darkness, and men cloaked in mystical robes chanting in fields. Every time the dream came to him, Henry woke up more tired than when he had gone to bed.
Needing to wake up, Henry grabbed the television remote that sat on the nightstand and bringing the television to life. Immediately, a breaking news report flashed across the screen, reporting that thousands of Pakistanis were dead.
Henry climbed out of bed nearly tripping over the alarm clock. He groaned as he headed for the bathroom due to the pain that flared up from his stubbed toe. The reporter continued to report about the tragedies overseas while Henry disrobed. He shook his head in dismay. It seemed as though the media just wanted to glorify the death and destruction that happened on a daily basis.
Henry knew the reports were true because he had seen much of it firsthand during his years stationed ove
rseas; many of those years were in the Middle East—an area that had always been full of strife and turmoil but went rabid when the oil fields dried up.
Henry turned up the volume on the television before climbing into the shower to clean up for work. While he washed his hair, he chuckled at how boring his life had become since those days in the Middle East. After serving two extended tours in Afghanistan as a combat specialist and field medic, he had seen enough horrors to last a lifetime. The warm cascading water of the shower helped to soothe away the painful memories. A second alarm sounded and Henry quickly turned off the water and grabbed a towel to dry himself off.
As he walked out of the bathroom and crossed the room of his meager Brooklyn apartment towards the dresser, he shook his head and quickly took in the place. It had only been two years since he left the military, and compared to what he'd been used to back in Afghanistan, this apartment was a palace.
After putting on his black Union Forest-issued trousers, Henry sat down on the bed and mused over how his bunk space wasn’t any bigger than the military issued aluminum folding cot in a screened tent. The tent had been barely large enough for the cot to fit inside. They were annoying but necessary in the wastelands because they kept out swarms of insects, camel spiders, and scorpions.
After the first few months in Afghanistan of frantically searching for small bothersome pests every night, Henry had eventually grown accustomed to bugs and other creepy crawlers. He would often find them in his boots, on the floor, or climbing up his towel as he showered. They’d been part of the landscape and everyday life.
Henry slipped on his black socks and sighed. He missed those simple, uncomplicated days and yet hated them at the same time. He could still recall that day several years back when he was in Afghanistan and the Union Forest disaster in Ireland had happened.
The news trumpeted the devastation of the event. Many believed the apocalypse had come from a creature that seemed to have crawled out of the very depths of hell. Henry had thought he had seen every horror imaginable, but, unfortunately, for him and millions of others, the universe had proved them wrong.
Henry and a few others from his platoon had been watching a football game when the news came on interrupting the game. They watched in disbelief as the news showed footage of a winged serpent destroying some small villages over in Ireland. They watched in horror as the creature tore through a nearby news chopper killing everyone inside. Then the thing banked to its right and flew off towards the eastern horizon to begin its quest to ravage the rest of the world. From that day forward, humans were no longer on top of the food chain, this ancient creature was.
Ireland and most of the United Kingdom was the first to fall. The creature wreaked havoc across the English countryside killing, burning, and destroying anything that stood in its way. During those frightful days, Henry's platoon had received orders to pull out of Afghanistan and fly into the devastation that had been London.
The mission had been a simple one. His team was to fly in and pull out the queen along with her family and other members of parliament. Unfortunately, when they arrived, all that remained of Buckingham Palace was a hulking pile of smoking ash.
Henry ran his hand across his stubbled chin as the memories of the grisly scene replayed in his mind. The devastation of London continued to haunt him from time to time, especially whenever he was near a campfire or at a friend's house for a barbecue. The smell of burning wood or meat instantly brought back the ghastly memories.
Henry scooped up the remote, quickly changing the channel to turn his thoughts to something new. The television clicked over to channel thirty-two where a local televangelist was being interviewed.
“My brothers and sisters, the end of the world is nigh! We have lived too long in the land of sin, and God has sent The Beast to wreak havoc upon the world and deliver judgment upon us all.”
The interviewer blinked, trying to remain stoic. “So you believe the Beast was sent here by God?”
“Yes, I believe this creature is the black horse spoken of in Revelations. I’m sure you are aware of the four horsemen of the Apocalypse.”
The interviewer appeared a bit unsure how to proceed at this point. He looked down at the papers on his desk, appearing more than a little flustered because the televangelist had somehow turned the interview around on him. Luckily, he was a professional, so he continued.
“So let me get this straight. According to you, this creature is one of the horses spoken of in the New Testament, and God has sent it here to destroy us because we have fallen out of his favor, and we’re basically doomed?”
“We can be saved!” the televangelist said as he jumped out of his chair and raised his right hand into the air. “The final bell has not yet tolled, and this creature can be defeated and sent back into the spiraling depths of hell, if only we will supplicate to his will and repent of our inequities and sin!”
Henry rolled his eyes in disbelief and clicked off the television. He tossed the remote onto the bed and went to search for his comb.
Growing up, Henry and his younger brother, Rick, had spent many summer weekends going to church with his grandparents. In fact, many of the preachers had sounded just like the one from the TV. It seemed to Henry that there had always been something those preachers had to say about the end of the world and how we're all going to hell.
However, those weekends weren’t all that bad. He had several fond memories of his grandparent's home in upstate New York. Their grandfather had spent many nights retelling wondrous stories of knights and wizards battling giant serpents of fire. Those visits had been something special to him, especially since it allowed him and Rick to escape the troubles that were brewing at home between their parents.
However, due to what had happened in Ireland, those stories were no longer simple fairytales; the creatures from them were real monsters of flesh and blood.
As he combed his hair, something nagged at him from the back of his mind. Had those stories been passed down through the generations to warn humanity of the evil that had been hidden away for centuries? Had humanity chosen to forget and ignore these messages and then turn them into entertainment? He sat the comb down, quickly brushed his teeth, and put on his black buttoned-up shirt with its Union Forest security patch that rested above his left breast.
Henry despised his job, but many companies wouldn't hire ex-militaries these days. The job itself wasn't too bad. He only disliked it because of a co-worker named Smythe who made it his personal mission to make Henry’s life a living hell.
Henry knew he should have requested a transfer to the Union Forest facility in South Carolina months ago because the promotion he’d been up for and deserved would never come. Smythe made sure of that. However, he continued to hang around just in case Rick ever returned. Plus, there was a cute little blonde barista named Carly at the local coffee shop, who had the most amazing smile.
Henry glanced at the clock and realized he was running out of time. He quickly finished tying the laces on his boots, grabbed his jacket, and exited his apartment.
After a quick swipe of his hand across the display panel of his apartment’s security system outside his door, Henry popped in his ear buds, pressed play on his music player, and proceeded down the hall towards the elevator. Once the elevator reached the ground floor, Henry exited and waved to his neighbor, Charlie, from apartment A214, who was collecting his mail.
Charlie looked up from the mail he was sorting. “Hey, Henry. How‘s life?”
“Same as usual. Just on my way to work.”
Henry noticed that Charlie gave a half smile at his response. “What are you grinning about?”
Charlie finished sorting through his mail and tossed a few in the trashcan below the mailboxes.
“So . . . I guess you’ll be stopping by the ‘coffee shop’ then?”
Henry did his best to hide the discomfort that blossomed inside his chest. He could easily confront a squad of insurgents, but when it came to people ta
lking about his love life, he always became extremely uncomfortable.
“Why would you ask that?” Henry croaked.
“Oh, I don’t know?” Charlie said. “Maybe it’s the fact that every day for the last four months, you’ve made sure to stop in for a cup of coffee on your way to work. Not even I love coffee that much. Plus, doesn’t that company you work for have a cafeteria where you can eat for free?”
“Yeah, something like that.” Henry fidgeted a bit and then glanced down at his watch. “Look at the time. I hate to cut our conversation short, but if I don’t leave now, I’m going to be late for work.”
“Okay, have a great day, and say hi to Carly for me.”
Henry waved goodbye as he rushed out the door, leaving a chuckling Charlie behind.
A group of kids scattered as the door to the building burst opened before them. Henry watched the small ragtag band race back down the sidewalk, pretending they were adventurers running from a horde of angry cannibals. It was rare to see kids playing out in the streets these days, not like when he and his brother were younger. The world had gone to hell over the last five years, and almost everyone along the Atlantic Coast lived in fear.
No one knew if or when the Beast would strike. It didn't happen often, but it did happen. Many families packed up their belongings, making the move out West. Those unfortunate souls who couldn't make the move hunkered down in their homes and rarely let their children outdoors.
As Henry walked down the street, he switched his gaze from the kids to the city around him. Much of the New York landscape had changed dramatically. Manhattan was no longer a bustling city filled with millions of people and numerous taxicabs. Instead, all access to the island had been cut off by the military as it was covered by a vast jungle of trees and dangerous vegetation. Many of the large skyscrapers were now ruined and twisted husks of what they had once been. The manicured landscape of Central Park had also changed during the Beast's stay. The growth rate of fauna in the park had increased so much that most of Times Square had vanished under a tangle of monstrous vines and other immense vegetation expanding from the park. The Beast’s presence also affected the animals across the island both in and out of the zoo. Horror stories of giant rats crawling out of the sewers had suddenly become true.
The Shadow Above The Flames Page 1
