Breed by Davies KT

Author:Davies, KT [Davies, KT]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Fox Spirit Books
Published: 2014-09-20T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

After the initial excitement of dying I learned something interesting: Nothing happened. One minute I was bleeding out beneath a suitably maudlin sky, and the next I was covered in dirt and someone was dragging me from the ground by my ankles.

In between dying and resurrection nothing had happened at all. There hadn’t been any flames of hell, no divine rivers of wine, no twelve-cocked thoasan love gods came to greet me, no holy winged vaginas, not even an army of sacred golden newts to show me the way to the source of all life. Just nothing. Part of me was disappointed although, given the life I’d led to this point, I suppose it could have been much worse. Still, death was something of a disappointment.

I tried to struggle free of the iron grip around my ankles but I couldn’t move. Panic struck as my nose, mouth, and eyes were full of dirt. Before I choked, I popped out of the ground like a turnip. Harsh daylight forced tears from my eyes, I blinked, it felt good. Whoever had pulled me out of the hole let go of me. To my dismay I found I still couldn’t move but my vision was clearing quickly. I spat out a mouthful of dirt, focused on my rescuer and immediately wished I hadn’t.

It was a corpse, or more accurately, one of the restless dead.

It wasn’t fresh but it was still recognisably male. A noose was hanging around its twisted neck; its shrivelled muscles creaked like hawsers as it grabbed me under the arms and hauled me over to a tree. Its empty eye sockets wept grave dirt and grubs as it propped me against the trunk. And there was me thinking there was nothing worse than being shot. It seemed that like life, death was full of unpleasant little surprises.

The corpse shuffled back, tilted its head to one side and tried to smile with its atrophied facial muscles. Breeeeed,’ it hissed. I recognised the voice. It was Shallunsard. ‘You are without doubt the most amusing creature I have met in centuries.’ The demon laughed.

I didn’t. Something to do with being shot to death had quite muted my normally robust sense of humour.

‘I’m the only creature you’ve met in centuries,’ I gasped. Air whistled through my shredded lungs. ‘Am I dead?’

The corpse nodded. ‘As good as, save that thing you term a soul has not yet left your body.’

I never thought I’d miss him, but I really wished the priest was here. ‘Sooo… I am or I aren’t?’

‘You am, but that can change.’ The corpse demon plucked a grub from its chest and stroked it with a rat-gnawed finger.

‘Ah.’ I sensed another deal looming. ‘What do you want?’

‘That which is mine. You owe me a hammer, remember?’

‘How could I forget, and why the corpse?’

‘Why not? I could have come to you as a cloud of flies, a flock of ravens, a gaggle of vengeful chickens, but none of those are much good at digging stupid breeds out of graves.

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