A Rising Storm (Tainted Blood Book 4)

by Jeff Gunzel

  With more arriving each day, it never got old seeing the looks on their faces when they realized this paradise was real. Many dropped to their knees, eyes wide with disbelief. Others broke down in tears of joy upon seeing so many of their own kind. Their lives had meaning for the first time in years. No more hiding in the shadows. No more forced servitude by humans threatening to hand them over to local governments if they didn’t do as they were told. These threats were often reinforced with a constant string of whispered reminders of what would become of them once the other humans learned of their existence. Experimentation, torture, and whatever other tales could be spun to help ensure their obedience.

  But those days were over now. Free from oppression, here they would unite and live as the family they were always meant to be. A few even had some skills to contribute to their newfound community. Some could play musical instruments as taught to them by their human masters. Others were handy with swords and other weaponry. The sky was the limit as to what they might achieve together in the coming years, and they owed it all to one man. Their leader. Their savior.

  Two lerwicks, a boy and a girl, went running deeper into the cave together. Laughing, the young man chased her with a ball he had made from crumpled paper. Extremely light and easy to hold, he had made a game of throwing it at others. “I’m going to get you!” he called out, pumping the ball in one hand, feigning a number of throws to try and keep her off balance.

  “No you’re not!” she giggled, weaving back and forth as she ran, trying to make herself an elusive target. “You’re too slow.”

  Skidding to a halt and planting his foot, he threw. The head-sized ball caught air and drifted, gliding harmlessly past her shoulder. It hit the ground and rolled a ways before coming to rest against a pair of black boots. The two lerwicks froze in place, not sure what to do. A large hand reached down to scoop up the ball. Orm’rak held it up, admiring the homemade toy. With a smile, he tossed it back to the girl.

  “It’s good to see you both having so much fun,” Orm’rak said, still smiling warmly. “Neither of you are causing any trouble, I suspect?” They shook their heads agreeably. It was rare for the leader to ever leave his private chamber.

  “Good. Now why don’t you two go on and gather with the others? I think it’s time I introduced myself.”

  They hurried back to the other lerwicks, who had mostly stopped their festivities. All eyes were on Orm’rak as he swept his way towards them, head high with his hands clasped behind his back.

  “Gather around, friends,” Orm’rak said, motioning to all as he stepped up on one of the tables. Many of the early arrivals had been instructed to go speak directly with Orm’rak when first arriving here. At the time it had been a requirement in order to stay. But Orm’rak had since waived that condition. Lately, he had opted more for privacy rather than being bothered several times a day. Many of the newer arrivals were seeing him now for the first time.

  Whispers radiated around the chamber. It’s him. It’s Orm’rak. Quiet down and listen. Several sat in awe as their savoir stood before them. This was the man who had given them freedom. If not for him they would still be hiding in alleyways, drinking the blood of stray cats or sneaking up on the homeless while they slept. They owed this man everything. In their eyes he was practically a god. At least, that’s what Orm’rak was counting on, anyway.

  “My friends,” he continued. “I want you to look around and tell me what you see.” He paused as heads rotated, feet shifting nervously as if not sure how to answer. “No one?” he smiled warmly. “Then let me tell you what I see. I see a miracle. A movement. I see history in the making and I am honored to be a part of that.” He scanned around the chamber, making a special effort to look as many in the eye as he could. Nearly all broke eye contact when his eyes met theirs. That was a good thing, Orm’rak thought. These passive, broken spirits would be easy to manipulate, easy to control.

  Despite their physical superiority to humans, these beings were still timid and fearful. And why shouldn’t they be? At best, the lucky ones lived in total isolation, hiding in the shadows from a society that was blind to their existence. At worst, slaves to a human who kept them as secret pets. Whether their use was manual labor or simply to satisfy pleasures of the flesh, these poor souls did it willingly because they had never known any other life. Not a one of them knew what freedom was. Freedom was an illusion granted only to humans...until now.

  “Brothers and sisters, I understand the hardships you have endured. I know that life’s trials and tribulations can be overwhelming at times, pushing one to the breaking point and beyond. Believe me, I understand more than you know.” Orm’rak’s eyes glazed over. “I too have been tested by this cruel world of ours. Born of pure laberath blood, my humble species were forced to dwell in the underground like worms for centuries. I was their leader and did everything I could for my people. Devoted, loyal to one another, all we ever wanted was to be left to our peaceful ways. But the humans had other ideas.

  “Wicked, violent, those loathsome creatures wanted nothing more than to eradicate my kind. For centuries we fought back, defending our homes, our families, against the invaders. But ultimately, their relentless cruelty proved to be too much. In the end, I escaped with my skin and little else. Sadly, I cannot say the same about my brothers and sisters.”

  The lerwicks hung on to his every word, more than a few wiping moisture from their eyes. He had them eating out of the palm of his hand. Although not dumb beings by any measure, they had led far too sheltered lives to have developed any instincts when it came to filtering lies from truth. In this sense, they were much like children.

  “The laberaths are no more. I am the last of my kind, just as you are the last of yours. This heavy burden is the very thing that binds us, my dear friends. We have all walked similar paths to reach this point. And although I can sense the pain in each of your hearts, I can also feel your inner strength. It is these struggles that define us, test us, and ultimately shape who we shall become. Although they’ve tried to take everything from us, we are still standing!”

  Caught up in Orm’rak’s emotional speech, the lerwicks clapped and cheered. Not only was Orm’rak a shining light in their world of darkness and abandonment, a fearless leader who would teach them how to survive and flourish when all appeared lost, but he could relate to them in a most intimate, emotional way. He was no stranger to pain and suffering. This great man knew what it was like to have the whole world turn its back on you. They would love him for his strength as well as his empathy. He understood them when no one else did.

  Plant the seeds, Orm’rak thought to himself. And in time they will grow. Patience is the key. A trusting soldier is a loyal soldier.

  “Never again will you know loneliness. Together we shall face our fears. They tried to break you, but failed. Well, I say it’s time we took back our rightful place in this world! You are not slaves, they are! You are not the lesser beings, for it is they who are inferior in every way. We share a common enemy. And soon, I swear to you, that enemy will tremble at your feet, just as you once trembled at theirs. The reign of humans is over! This is our world, and we will take it back!” Among the cheers, swirling black funnels of squawking birds blazed around excitedly.

  Orm’rak motioned off to his left. Two lerwicks, originals who had been here since the beginning, nodded and stalked off down a side corridor. A moment later they returned, pushing a large, square object hidden beneath a black cloth. Rusty wheels chirped as they pushed, leaving their tracks along the dusty stone floor. Those who were still cheering grew silent upon hearing the whimpering sounds coming from under the cloth. What was this?

  Orm’rak jumped down off the table and grabbed a fistful of fabric. “Behold the future of our species,” he growled softly so only those nearest to him could hear.

  Ripping back the cloth, he revealed a packed cage full of filthy humans. Quivering in their small clothes, several screamed out in terror at the sight of a room full of lerw
icks. Three pushed their backs into a corner while the others folded themselves on the floor, covering their heads. Human waste spotted the cage floor, with a fair amount coating their almost naked bodies. Given the substantial amount of filth in their matted hair, it was obvious they had been forced to sleep in it as well. How long had they been here?

  The lerwicks looked on, stunned. Emotions were mixed, ranging from eager satisfaction at seeing these pathetic creatures getting just what they deserved, to outright horror at the treatment of these living beings. Those in particular could relate to what they were seeing and wouldn’t wish this on anyone. The already terrified humans began to scramble about, crawling over each other to try and maintain some distance from the cage door, even though there was really nowhere to go.

  “Does this look familiar to any of you?” Orm’rak asked, kicking the side of the cage. The humans quickly crawled to the other side, ignoring the sticky excrement clinging to their hands and knees. “How many times have the humans treated you like animals, locked away in some cage such as this? Perhaps they need to be reminded of who really controls these lands. They are not your masters or even superior to you in any way. In fact, in a way they are much like plants in my eyes. Nothing but a food source, and a low one at that. That is their purpose and that is all they will be from this day forward.”

  The reactions to Orm’rak’s view of these creatures varied wildly. A food source? For some, yes. There were more than a few here who preyed on humans, jumping them in the night to drain their blood. But the thirst was a strange affliction indeed. It seemed to affect each lerwick differently. They all needed blood in one form or another. There was no denying that. But many had grown used to animal blood and didn’t even need it all that often. A few times a month was more than enough to sustain them.

  Others had voracious appetites that could only be satisfied with the blood of humans. Some of these were ruthless killers who fed more than once a day. Their nourishment requirements bordered on addiction. Since arriving here, fresh blood had been served daily, each given as much as they wanted. Nobody questioned where it had come from, until now.

  “Perhaps a demonstration is in order?” Orm’rak said, jiggling the lock before flinging the cage door open. The terrified humans shrieked, pressing themselves against the far corner as Orm’rak stepped inside. Snatching one by the back of his hair, he dragged the man out as he kicked and wailed. Crying for help, he reached futilely towards the others before finally grasping one of the side bars. It was a last-ditch effort to save himself.

  “What’s wrong, little human?” Orm’rak asked, his voice soft and sincere. “Have the others turned their backs on you, refusing to help you in your hour of need?” He leaned down to speak softly in the man’s ear. “But isn’t that what humans do, abandon their own unless there is something to be gained? You’re all alone now. Scream all you want, no one is coming to help you.”

  Trembling from head to toe, urine ran down the man’s leg, pooling around his feet. Terror rolled off him in waves. Orm’rak drank it in, savored it. If he could, he would have every human in the world experience this special brand of torment. He truly hated them, almost as much as he hated Viola. Almost...

  Orm’rak decided he had waited long enough. By now the man’s adrenaline had sweetened his blood enough. He sank his teeth into the man’s neck with a snapping crunch. The human’s mouth hung open, lips quivering in wordless silence. His eyes sunk back into his head as Orm’rak’s jaw muscles contracted, neck pulsing, each contraction driving sweet blood down the back of his throat, one gush after the next. Not a minute later the body was drained.

  Orm’rak threw the papery husk to the ground, then focused his attention on the remaining humans inside the cage. Two screamed hysterically, clawing at their own faces as rolls of skin collected beneath their fingernails. The human mind was a delicate thing, simply breaking when a sight was too much to bear. Others stood still, faces slack, eyes glassy as their minds allowed for merciful shock to set in. Mentally, they just went away.

  “Do you see how weak they really are?” Orm’rak asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “They fooled you all into believing they were a powerful race. After enough time it became your reality. Lies! All lies! They are nothing. Less than nothing. This is your reality now. You are gods of this realm. I implore you to take what is yours!”

  Most of the lerwicks cheered. So many years of self-doubt had been eradicated with just a simple demonstration. The humans really were very weak, at least when compared to them. Why had they ever feared these things in the first place? Their superior numbers, perhaps? That seemed so foolish now.

  But others watched on in horror. Having never seen such violence in all their sheltered lives, the bloody image of that man’s death would haunt them for years to come. Such hate! Although they had no particular love for the humans they had feared for so long, it didn’t mean they took pleasure from torturing them. The blood of small animals had proved to be an adequate food source for years. Such brutality against these beings was unnecessary. There was no excuse for this.

  “They are a food source,” Orm’rak said sternly, answering some of the questioning looks. If some of this group proved to be weak, that was going to be a problem moving forward. But he would address that at a later time. “So use them as such!” He kicked the cage door wide open and began walking back to his private chamber.

  After a slight hesitation, a single lerwick rushed into the cage and grabbed a girl by the wrist. A chorus of blood-curdling screams rose up from the cage, echoing around the cave. But seconds later they were drowned out by the wild shrieks of excited lerwicks rushing the cage from all sides. Those that could fit ran inside and began feeding on the live meal. Others reached through the side bars, grabbing hair, wrists, and even fingers. Anything they could grip and pull between the bars or just get close to their mouths.

  The feeding frenzy was on. There was no shortage of greed when it came to such a fresh meal. Orm’rak snickered while hearing the crunching of bones behind him. They certainly weren’t holding back. Blood was all they needed, but meat so fresh was a hard thing to pass up. Even the sweet marrow at the center of human bones could be a treat if one was willing to work for it.

  Entering his private section of the cave, Orm’rak took a seat near an old desk he had been using. There were strips of rolled parchments scattered about. Some had coordinates scribbled down, while others had crudely drawn maps which took a bit of hard thinking to decipher. There were empty ink bottles tipped on their sides, and a number of feathers whose ends were blackened and worn. These, along with a few trusted messengers, had been the tools needed to assemble this many lerwicks in one place. Spreading word of this haven had been quite a chore. No doubt there were many more he hadn’t reached yet.

  But he wasn’t thinking about any of that right now. Something else was distracting him, tugging at the farthest regions of his mind. He could feel her, sense her. The bond between Viola and himself would always be there, but at times it felt as if she were right there in the room with him. She was close, far closer than she should be. He knew it. No longer was she in Shadowfen, but right here somewhere in the Latrain Mountains.

  I would have followed you to the edge of the realm if need be. But it appears that the fly has followed the spider right into his web. Good. Sleep tight, my dear Viola. We shall meet again very soon.

  Chapter 5

  A young deer grazed on the moist, tender leaves scattered beneath a tree. Freshly fallen from the night’s storm, they made for the perfect snack. Light drips of leftover rain dropped from the tree leaves, sprinkling the back of its head each time a branch swayed in the gentle breeze. Suddenly, the deer’s ears perked up, eyes wide with alarm. It didn’t see anything, but had momentarily caught a strange scent on the wind. The deer sniffed the air suspiciously, not sure whether or not to trust its own eyes. Alert instincts blaring in alarm, the deer turned to bound away back into the forest.

 
A funnel of black birds swarmed it, engulfing the trapped creature in a living tornado of flapping wings and nipping beaks. The funnel shifted, liquid black melting down around the animal, clinging, reshaping, until Jarlen’s form was draped across its back. Both hands wrapped around its neck, Jarlen’s teeth snapped into its neck. The deer bleated once, kicked twice, then went limp in his arms. Jarlen’s jaw muscles contracted, throat pumping like a heartbeat to extract the warm sweetness from his prey.

  Jarlen didn’t need blood the way other lerwicks did. He no longer suffered from the thirst thanks to his human captors who had found a way to alter his body, mainly through a series of systematic torture techniques, a process they referred to as training. Viola had also been subjected to the same treatment. But by the time they had done it to her, they had it down to an exact science. Jarlen’s torture had gone on for much longer, a brutal process of trial and error that took nearly a year before they got it right. Jarlen could live ten lifetimes and never forget the ruthless torment he had endured. Those memories would haunt him until his dying breath.

  No, Jarlen didn’t need to drink blood anymore, but it was still the simplest way to keep from starving to death. Especially now that he was no longer sure where or when his next meal was coming from. Was this to be his life now, drinking the blood of deer, rats, or anything else he could sneak up on, wandering from place to place in search of shelter from the elements? True, he was no longer a slave, but was this nomad’s life really any better? As he drank, Jarlen’s thoughts drifted back to his narrow escape from Shadowfen.

  “This is the place,” their commander growled under his breath, signaling for the other soldiers to circle the inn from all sides, blocking all windows and doors. Others backed away to form a human wall in the street, pushing back curious onlookers, keeping them at a safe distance. The commander twirled his finger and pointed to the front door. Soldiers entered in pairs, each team moving swiftly up the steps to stand near the suspects’ room.