Crimson Blade
CRIMSON BLADE
The Crimson Series
Book One
K.L.O Johnson
THE CRIMSON SERIES
Crimson Knight
the Prequel
A Novel
K.L.O Johnson
K.L.O Johnson (Kelvia-Lee Odette Johnson)
© Copyright K.L.O Johnson 2016
© 2016 by K.L.O Johnson
This is a work of fiction.
The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organisations is entirely and purely coincidental.
All rights are reserved.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without prior written permission from the author. Stunts and scenes and any replication of scenes will result in severe injury or death.
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the author. Hence, reproducing ideas, characters, storyline or works itself is prohibited.
PROLOGUE
A Nefaliem’s Strife
No one ever tells you how things will end. Instead, they just do. No one ever cared and when they did—they undoubtedly betrayed me. So rampaging throughout Earth was all that was left of me, as I had no memories, no family and from my perspective—no future.
If someone were to scream and beg for their life, I wouldn’t give diddly squat. However, if someone offers something to me of greater value in my eyes, then maybe I’d reconsider . . . maybe. Depending on the person, that is.
Sometimes I wondered what it would be like to be like those other women without a care in the world for those around you. Instead, I always cared, I didn’t know why or the reason—all I know was that something horrible had happened and I was left to suffer alone.
So I took my vengeance.
I did everything in my power to make others suffer because I could.
With the power to walk through walls and above average super strength and speed. I was invincible. Taking what I wanted, not caring who was hurt but over time as I began to understand the darkness of this retched planet Earth—I knew my time could be better spent elsewhere.
Enemies became my play things, monsters and demons became practice while those who thought, they could control me, learned the hard way, that I wasn’t someone who could be controlled.
At this point in time, in this exact moment, I watch my target, stalk through a thick crowd of people, broad daylight was when I would strike, not at night—the night-time was when I deal with those of Hell—the demons or monsters that claimed to know of me.
In the end, they ended up like my enemies, shredded away into nothing or stashed in body bags. I prefer the body bags, that way I could look upon those who did me wrong one last time, delving in the satisfaction of my accomplishment.
They were only humans—daunts; I’ve known for a while now that I was not human—not like the other human women walking this earth. I’d often be a target because I was female but the scary part was I relish in that, better to had the monsters come to me, than having me, go out of my way to hunt them down.
Miles Walker, was an accountant clerk at Hilton Garden, and my next target. He saunters through the throng of New Yorkers as I keep my distance. He has a schedule of keeping coffee with a newspaper at a small café not too far from Times Square always at exactly eight o’clock.
Yellow taxis honk and holler, as personal hover-cars sit in traffic waiting for the motion of flow. This makes me wondered why anyone bothers to drive to work, in this time period. In my eyes, they’re wasting their fuel, then again, it was the year 3456 and I was certain their fuel was now eco-friendly. However, given the excessive heat now weighing down on us, I also know that their effort to save the planet had been in vein, as a small percentage recycled and attempted to live waste-less lives while the others didn’t, resulting in thick photochemical smogs and extinct animals.
Miles continues on route for Hilton Garden Inn which was seven minutes away, a company, that had lasted for a good millennium. Heading south, I dodge everyone and anyone that I consider an obstacle.
Whilst keeping my eyes on Miles.
He easily shifts through the crowd, across the road and over to Hilton Garden hotel, where I follow after him. He moves through the crowd with ease and I watch as he enters the building. I turn my heel and head into the opposite building. It’s the building that would give me a perfect vantage point.
Nothing was going to be easy, I know that, as this was going to cause gossip on the news. As usual, I care but became numb to each ridicule they flung around. I was the enemy—I’m the monster but unlike some, I was certain I wasn’t always like that. I knew I hated Humans more than I hated Outlanders and they were a problem.
I discreetly pass the lobby and head for the fire stairs around the corner. Standing in my black mid-thigh length trench coat, I didn’t felt like I stand out at all, even as a few people spot me but I act as ordinary as possible. Ultimately, I had no choice but to, if I want my plan to succeed.
Hiking fluidly up the stairs, I make my way to the roof, keeping my leather gloved hands in my jacket pockets. I make my way to the top of the building pressing open the door, I dropped a brick that I had pinched from beside the door on the ground, I shove it between the door and its frame with the sole purpose to keep it from closing. I moved over to the edge of the building that displays a clear view and layout of his office, which leaves him wide open to me.
My plan was set and ready to be carried out.
These thoughts of fear continue to tickle at the back of my mind—hindering my movements. I was afraid of them but also detest them. I know that as long as I keep my guard up, I’d be safe, even though I may need to go on a high dosage of medication to numb my heart and mind. Something, I was certain would save me in the end.
As I do this I desperately want to know the truth as I didn’t want to play games any more, even though I’ve lost sight of the light—I know there was nothing else anyone could do to save me, as I would forever be a gift of the darkness that floods through me. My plan I know, was something that would play out very carefully and precisely.
I want to understand what was occurring in the traffics of the Underworld better yet, I need to draw out a certain someone. Someone who’s been trouble from the first day we met—his name is: Altair Keyes.
My target was a small simple man but he’s had dealings within the black-market, something which was going to get him into trouble, so I know it’s best that I end him before another assassin does. At least I was going to be merciful and kill him without an interrogation as there was no real need. My questions had already been answered.
I saw through the wide window to floor ceiling glass, Miles moving fluidly to his desk. His movements are quick and precise; almost reminding me of a panther as he boots up his holographic computer.
I dig for my power and felt my hand heat within moments I hold a sterling silver crossbow inscribed in an ancient language. That power I use, was the power to summon weapons form my central core, it was something that makes moving through security child’s play. I smile, I know this would be easy as I aim the crossbow, making sure my scope matches up. I smile and fire.
A loud scream pierces the air and I watch as his limbs dangle as he sits clumped over
in his transparent office chair. I de-summoned my large silver crossbow and head to the door. I proceed down the stairs and escape out a door on level seven. The emergency exit allows me to enter a hallway.
I notice, no one has realised what has happened.
The police I know will be altered when the body was found. I was quick to turn my black trench coat inside out, feeling my features heat, I was aware of my appearance changing. I walk passed reflective glass and watch as my hair turns from black to brown than blond. I pull it out and head to the elevator. I stand between two security guards aware, I look completely different. That was only confirmed by my blond Caucasian appearance in the reflective glass. I quit the elevator and exit the building with my completed objective at the forefront of my mind.
ONE
Formally Hunted
“In breaking news,” the anchor-man grimly declares. “Earlier yesterday there was an assassination on the thirty-year-old accountant, Miles Walker. In this tragic incident, detectives are calling for witnesses to come forward as the weapon that punctured his heart is nowhere to be found.”—My mind zoned out, as I didn’t want to hear any more.
I knew to a degree that I also didn’t care.
I glanced at my ventilator shaft and watched as it silently sat against the white ceiling. Shadows stretched along my grey walls as the sun began to set in this stagnant room. The shadows towered monstrously along my walls and I know for a fact, they aren’t monsters. Not the kind I was used to. They’d call upon me in the most unnecessary times. Sometimes I wondered why they even bother—they’re no match. No one was a match and that’s mainly because I was not human.
It was a fact I both delve in and hate.
I lay in my black underwear on my spring mattress with my mind turning as I briefly glanced at the holographic screen that reflects the setting sun. I smile at the news. My tasked was complete and the next one would be underway soon—I just had to figure out when. I faintly hear a knock emanating from outside my door. “It couldn’t be for me. No one knows I live here.” I smile—well not legally and not the real me. The knocking disappears and I still haven’t moved.
I watch the ceiling fan spin, noticing the setting sun; I eventually sit up in bed, aware I had had plenty hours of sleep—not to mention there are somethings that I need to do and that gives me the uneasy sensation to strangle someone. The urge was so strong that I felt I couldn’t contain it. And I knew it would be Vince—it’ll add to my many reasons as to why I want to strangle him. One being, by our provider we are paid for our jobs, I knew without a doubt he’ll try and take the money I recently earned because he thinks he could and two he’s just a plain asshole.
Plucking my shirt from the bedside table, I pull it over my head and slip it on, feeling sick I stumble across the room to the bathroom. I notice in the mirror; my golden brown skin was dull in colour as my eyes rein bags bigger than my small oval face. My pink and brown lips are cracked and I always hate it when it gets like that—sometimes it’s painful other times it’s a pain. Turning on the tap, I let the water thickly ran. The sound of rushing water comforts me as it always does. My high cheekbones swam to make my cheeks hollow. Concluding, I look like a complete mess, I mumble as I drink the water from the tap, “The nightmares. Bloody hate them.” I dry my mouth with my face towel before placing it back on the handrail. I pass a tub, big enough to fit a small person and deep enough to hold a good few litres of water for a long bath, before quitting the small bathroom.
As I wander into my room. My mind floods flashbacks of the dream. The nightmares are always the same, I was confined with nowhere out and nowhere to go. The water—it’s always a funny green colour. There are these quick bubbles that graze along the surface of the glass. It isn’t the water that scares me it’s watching the white-suited men on the other side; view me as I desperately bang at the glass. As the water begins to pour at my feet, they continue to watch. No matter how hard I hit the glass it wouldn’t crack. No matter how much I screamed they wouldn’t waver—they didn’t even move. They just watched as the water suffocates me and it isn’t until I was submerged do I wake up shaking in fear. My body trembles every time as I dream of that freezing cold water. That reaction to that dream was a common one I’ve noticed over the years.
I quickly dress, in a black leather jacket, black jeans and black leather boots and my favourite blue shirt, which always complements my golden brown skin tone. I tuck my leather gloves in my back pocket along with my credit card, which was lined in an aluminium case. With my thick black hair in a braid, I head out of my apartment in search of Vince.
He was going to be sorry when I find him.
*.*.*
Later that morning, I find myself in the city square. Down several blocks, I walk. I turn down an alleyway and saw the stars twinkle overhead. I sense something near—something dangerous and just like that I know finding that man would had to wait. The air feels cool to the touch and it sawms to slide passed me as the winds of a storm brews. I glanced up at the skies and felt the ground pulse between my feet. “Demons.” I wondered why they aren’t pulling me into Paranella—into the world that borders Hell. From the shadows, on ground, the demons rise.
I stand ready to fight.
There was a woman with black hair along with two men with different shades of silver hair. One man wears a masked that covering his lower features while the other wears a black headband around his forehead. Clad in motorbike leather they look deadly and I saw the woman’s eyes burn a colour from brown to crimson. “There you are,” she muses, stalking before the man, almost as if she were their leader.
“You know me?” I asked, aware I’ve never sawn her before.
There was a brief pause before she adds, “You had no idea what you’ve got yourself into, do you?”
“No. But it doesn’t matter.” I coolly reply.
“Oh? was that so?”
“Yes.”
She grumbles a laugh, “Such as shame you ended up in this dump. No matter, without Serenity, you’re outnumbered and alone.” She glares, “You’re an open target.”
“Bring it.” I smartly declare and bring up my fists, glaring at the two other male demons dauntingly on approach. I stare them down and watch as she pulls out summoned silver weapons from behind her back, they were two short broad swords. The men do the same but remain a few feet behind her.
“How about one on three doesn’t sawm fair, wouldn’t you agree?” she teases. I felt my lips pull themselves into a small smile. “Get her. We’ll freeze her and hand her over to Al,” the female announced. They pounce on me like a lion to a gazelle. I evade the first one and dodge the next. However, the moment I think I was free from one—another comes and wraps his thick larger hand around my smaller wrist. I glare and he smiles. I kick him away from me and I was suddenly surprised by the next one that decides to throw a punch my way. I block and head-butt him before grabbing his wrist, I turn my back towards him and step closer to him before effectively flipping him over me. “Idiots.” the female grumbles before adding, “Since when was she ever easy to take.”
“You continue to speak as though we know each other.” I ponder as the man with the masked stumbles towards me, he’s the same man that I kicked away.
“I didn’t know you personally. But I do know of you.” the woman replies as she walks closer, her black silhouettes click, against the ground. “You’re a woman of many tales. And ones I was quite certain you’ve forgotten.” She curls a small sinister smile making her blood red lips mock my very existence. Something, which causes my blood to boil. The men jump at me once again, this time, I was quick to string together blocks and evade their quick kicks and sharp punches. Feeling myself backing into a corner, I leap onto the wall and flip in the air—executing a perfect tornado kick. The maskeded man stumbles away from me, while the one with the headband man evades my series of kicks. The men are soon defeated and I wiped the blood from my lip where I received a solid punch. Blood smears the back of my
hand but I recover.
She sneers and snarls, “Morons! She’s just one woman.” I roll over my shoulder, bouncing on my toes I shaped up.
“I may be one woman but I had yet to come across a man who could match me.”
“Don’t be absurd. There’s one out there I was certain but you haven’t come across him just yet.” She retorts and I scowl. I had to take her out quickly. Two duel weapons moulded in her hands and she sprints towards me at top speed—I leant back and both of her blades are pressed against my chin. “But then again, since when does it had to be a man.” I felt my forearm heat and I saw the gleam of my thick single layer of armour. It stretches from my elbow and over the back of my hand. I push away the blades with my armour and spin back striking her a few times with that same armoured arm. I spin each time with my fist curled and I was surprised when she ensues my wrist. I jump, kneeing her with my right leg before kicking her away with my left hand. She twists away from me and I land on the ground with a hand in front of me. She stumbles back and I watch as she recovers and wipes her lip. “I saw you haven’t forgotten how to fight.”
“Why do you continue to speak as though you know me,” I demand. She places her hands on her hips and smiles over at me.
“How could I not? You’re renown as the Silver Knight: Crimson Blade.”
“Crimson Blade?” I question, certain I’ve never heard myself being called something like that. “What kind of a name was that?” She scowls. Closing the distance between us, she presents several quick snapping kicks and I evade them all. I saw she’s becoming agitated as she sweeps at me, I tumble to the ground and roll out of the way, avoiding her foot as it shatters the ground where I once lay a few moments ago. She’s a lot stronger than she looks but so are the males, being big, they are a little tough to move. Like the males, I managed and I will with her—even though I could felt my blood racing beneath my skin. She flings kicks towards me and I block a few before continuing to roll away from her. I pick up a bin lid, threading my arm through the handle; I hold it as she kicks the lid. I roll backwards over my shoulder and spin around on my knees, using the lid as a weapon, again and again, she blocks my attacks.
Crimson Blade (Crimson Series Book 1) Page 1
