Sanctuary by A. R. Shaw

Author:A. R. Shaw [Shaw, A R]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Apocalyptic Ventures, LLC

18

A flickering flame, a howl of wind, the warmth of beasts nearby. Jax lay beneath a pile of furs, still shivering each time the wind banked against the building in sharp gusts. A shrill scream echoed in his dream. At first he thought it nothing more than the wind until it happened again.

He was afraid of them, if the truth were known, and what they were capable of; that’s why he was where he was in his own mind: away…separated from mankind for as much as he could distance himself and yet still serve his promise. They all had demons. Jax just knew them for what they were. His worst moment in life lay behind him but also knew that the same occurrence could and would happen again, and the conditions were ripe for them now, as ripe as they were in North Korea nineteen years before. Jax was then part of a UN aid-relief team to the Musan region after a great famine, caused by the emperor himself, was instigated in order to control the masses. As he handed out rations, a woman ran to him, collapsing in his arms. Maddened was the word that came to mind. Some horror possessed her. Though he spoke fluent Korean, her words were frantic. Another woman came forward and explained that the woman’s husband had killed their children.

“Take me there,” he’d said.

Tentatively, the translator pointed to the small shanty but would not follow or lead them there herself. Jax brought two other team members with him. The closer they came to the small shack, an odor like no other became more and more apparent.

The door was left ajar. He stepped inside. Armed with only a baton, he crept further in, his senses screaming at him to flee…the odor was something he’d never smelled before. Dog perhaps? He’d heard they ate dog on occasion. They’d been warned before coming there that the Koreans would often eat anything…starvation rules and all.

But that wasn’t it at all. As they entered, only the eyes of a man—black irises, as far as he could tell—looked beyond them. He never really acknowledged them. He just kept eating his meal, constantly chewing the meat he held in his hands.

That odor, though…Jax could not place it.

“Oh God!” said the man behind Jax. The flap tore to the side as the man immediately left. Then a forceful retching.

When he turned to see, there on the left was not one but two human heads sitting side by side on a thin wooden table made of crates, he suspected; so flimsy was the table that the sheer weight of the severed heads threatened to topple it over. At first he thought them dolls’ heads, but, no, they were too large. They were of children—one a girl with a long black braid now wrapped once around her neck and trailing over the edge of the table, the other a boy. Both appeared no more than ten years old. Their eyes were closed as if they were sleeping there sans the rest of their bodies.

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