And Then There Were Dragons by Alcy Leyva

Author:Alcy Leyva [Leyva, Alcy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781732935785
Publisher: Black Spot Books
Published: 2019-07-29T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 15

Our armored escort led us out of the room and through a tear of reality as we stepped into the true version of Misfit, the city on the edge of the Fourth Circle of Hell.

Misfit was nothing like New Necropolis. Where New Necro sported dazzling skyscrapers and valleys of running streets, Misfit was more of a dirt-laced factory. As my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, I saw hissing steam jets shooting columns of white smoke while silent fans chugged away in the distance. Metal walkways ran in uniformed rows leading upward and downward and sideways across the expanse of grim factory floor. There was an assembly line for objects suspended from metal hooks. Each of these objects was about twenty feet in diameter, black, and circular, but the material wasn’t glass or metal. It looked—and unfortunately smelled—organic.

I became very aware of the moans and screams coming from the black orbs around us, and, from this, how many of them were housed here. From what I could see—ceiling to floor and wall to wall—there were hundreds of the little black prisons, maybe thousands. They went on forever, disappearing into the distance among the various catwalks. Gazing at their unfathomable numbers, something told me that my previous guess of a thousand was probably missing several zeroes.

“What are these things?” I asked, poking the flesh casing of one of the black balls with my finger. It wriggled, murmured like a dying calf, and went still.

Palls looked around. “This is what they kept you in. They house small folds of reality. Infinite space in a finite package. They call them Black Bladders.”

I sighed. “Not sure who’s in charge of your PR department down here, Palls, but I would make some phone calls. Or write a letter to someone. Calling these things ‘Black Bladders’ has got to be the worst combination of words I’ve ever heard. That’s right up there with ‘Phlegm Slurpee’ and ‘Thong Song.’”

“Shut up!” Cain yelled at us. She was on edge. The rats on their armored steeds made a tight lap around us, while the guy walking beside Cain— a lobster-man in a black turtleneck—didn’t seem to care about anything.

I couldn’t see where the danger was, but around us the temperature spiked as three very loud put-put-puts cut the silence and a fiery tear sliced open in the walkway above. The flames crackled and flickered as three figures emerged onto the metal grate a few steps ahead of us.

Cain waved and her lobster coworker pushed us behind a wall and out of sight. Making sure we ducked our heads, it also gave our chains a meaningful tug to make sure we kept quiet. The locusts bore their stingers at these three new guests. From my vantage point, I could see little more than their outfits. They each wore heavy black coats with high collars that blocked off their faces. Two were tall and slender; the one standing in the center was as broad as a small couch. Their voices were female, but not entirely human.

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