Dirge of the Dead by Reed Logan Westgate

Author:Reed Logan Westgate
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Necromancer, LGBT, Magic, Druid, Nightmare
Publisher: Reed Logan Westgate
Published: 2021-08-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

The Trickster

Xlina’s eyes blinked open and were instantly stung by the harsh fluorescent light above her. She flinched as she drew in a sharp breath, a painful reminder of the Seraph’s powerful blow. A machine-like buzzing filled her ear, ringing in her head in a discordant monotone metallic hum that made her eye twitch. Her head lolled to the side to avoid the stinging fluorescent light. She stared at a sea green painted wall covered in drawings and colorful images. She lies reclined on a medical gurney of sorts, and she could feel bandaging snugly around her chest.

“Back with us?” a heavy male voice rang over the metallic hum. She rolled her head to the other side to see a brute of a man hunched over on a three-legged stool. He held a tattoo gun in his hand as he labored over a prone man.

“I guess.” Xlina tried to sit up, but her head swooned as her ribs cried in protest. “Ow.”

“Easy, you got rather banged up.” the man did not look away from his work. He just continued, head down and focused. He was well muscled, short of the bulk of a bodybuilder, but he definitively could have been a pro-wrestler with his build. His black tank top obscured an enormous tattoo of a Jackal’s head on his back. She couldn’t quite make out the full image, but she could see the Jackal’s head clear enough over an oasis of some sort.

“How did I get here?” Xlina looked around wearily. The tattoo parlor was well kept but was by no means medical facility. Her last conscious thought was of leaving Baptist, Bernard, and Edwards with Valeria. They had just entered the stairwell when she had coughed. She remembered pulling away, her hand covered in blood and then nothing. It was all back. No dreams. Just emptiness. She closer her hand gingerly, noting the dislocated fingers and cracked bones were mended. “How long have I been here?”

“You were dragged in drowning in your own blood,” he stopped the tattoo gun, carefully setting it down on his workbench next to the gurney. He leaned back, observing his work with a nod, before patting the man on the shoulder. “Looks great Axe, you’ll be the envy of your crew.”

The large man on the gurney sat up and looked at his fresh tattoo depicting a Harley roaring down a road in the desert with Route 66 sign in flames. It was impressive ink; she had to admit. He smiled in approval and retrieved a wad of sweaty bills from his jeans. He appears the stereotypical biker, from his soiled blue jeans to his black leather chaps. He flashed Xlina a grin, revealing two gold teeth through a straggled unkempt beard before turning to depart the parlor.

“Axe, you didn’t see her,” The bulky tattoo artist nodded to Xlina, “Copasetic?”

“I ain’t seen nothing,” the biker named Axe winked lewdly before pushing his way through a glass door to the streets beyond, leaving her alone with the artist.

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