Spelonk by Desmond Denton

Author:Desmond Denton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Fine art Wedding Film
Published: 2021-03-01T09:38:06+00:00

Dante stood on the roof, biding his time. Ready to strike... The scars on her body a persistent thought. The lines of good and evil had been blurred to the point that he couldn’t tell which was which. It was a clear target, a means to an end. He knew the game well. A simple exercise... Two men kept watch outside. An easy kill... He dispatches them with ease. Two rusty nails hit them square in the head, dropping them to the floor before they knew what had happened. Dante drops down from his perch as their limp bodies hit the ground. No noise. Small amounts of blood sputter from their skulls as he walks closer, raiding their bodies for anything worthwhile. He strips them of their extra ammo clips and medical field supplies.”Easy Game” He thought. The big old building used to be a cinema it seems, projector equipment and old film negatives litter the once pristine tiled floors. Dante walks through the hall, the prestige rows of seats and cup holders covered in a fair amount of dust. The place had been left in disarray for years. On the blank white screen, the Owl Clan sigil was painted up high in red paint. At least, Dante hoped it was red paint. This was their hub, a makeshift gathering place for the scum of the earth. A sanctuary of the damned... From what Dante could tell, it hadn’t been used in a while. Thin layers of dust danced over filthy cups and plates and the candles had taken on that greasy quality after a long period of not being in use. Something was up.”Why would there be guards?” he thought. Dante walks towards the sound of someone snoring and makes his way up to the projector room. The man is laying in the projector room in deep slumber. Ready for a scuffle, he unsheathes his knife. It was a part of him, an extension of his hand, his sixth finger. It never faltered, never failed. Standing over the man, Dante smells his drunken breath, with her lying next to him. It is clear from his own appearance that he was marked by the Owl, scarring over his arms trailing up onto his neck, it showed his rank. He was high in the number, clearly had a name for killing. The man’s eyes opened and instantly Dante hits the blade through the man’s throat, silencing him. The girl wakes up frightened. Air and warm blood gushes from the wound. Dante’s robot hand pushes the man down, keeping him in place. The kill was clean.

The girl shared what she knew about the Cape Commando, whatever Dante needed to know. He made mental notes of whatever useful information he could get out of her incoherent rambling. She knew it wouldn't be long before the sun would rise, and news spread like a plague in these cursed lands. She wasn’t safe. She ran in hope of a better life, away from her jailers.”Futile.” Dante thought.

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