The Wingless Angel by Fabrice Wilfong

Author:Fabrice Wilfong [Wilfong, Fabrice]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Acorn Publishing
Published: 2020-02-20T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-six

As stated in previous chapters, the art of Stemming the Unbroken to uncover sins is a trying task. Many Demons find that entering into an Unbroken’s mind is disorienting, distasteful, and potentially damaging. Although all Demons are required to have proficiency in Stemming, there are those that have an innate skill and talent for carving through the Unbroken’s mind. Often this task falls to these individuals.

—From “The Demonic Encyclopedia”

By Delta-Haldon

Silton woke from a restless sleep, his head heavy with pain, his body soaked with sweat. A lump a quarter-inch high rose on his forehead, and when he touched it, pain ripped down his spine. His vision came back slowly in a wet blur of beige and green, and Silton could see that he lay on a warm pile of bodies. His throat, too dry to speak, ached for water. Silton rolled off the pile to the ground, and sucked some of the morning sweat off the Skin-Land. The moisture soothed his throat, and the salty taste sparked his eyes to open.

A large shadow blocked the morning light from view, and when Silton’s weary eyes squeezed into focus, he saw something very strange. There, on the ground in front of him, were six pairs of mismatched feet, twisted in odd, crippled directions. His gaze moved up to the long, stilt-like legs. Silton scampered back, slipping on the sweat-soaked ground beneath him, pushing back to the warm pile of bodies. Then he saw the source of the shadow: a monster covered in meaty ground flesh. It stood six and a half feet high, with three heads, six legs, and as many arms. It looked at Silton with dumb, hampered eyes, as if it’d been drugged. Silton clenched his fist out of instinct, but little could be done without a weapon against a thing three times his size. Looking closer, he could see the thing more clearly: three people melted together as if by some terrible accident. Catching movement in his peripheral vision, he turned his head and saw six, eight, ten of the giants. Surrounding Silton, the flesh monsters stood like statues, unmoving and stolid.

Footsteps squeaked across the morning sweat of the Skin-Land, and a figure grabbed the massive beast in front of Silton, tugging on it.

“Come on. Be good like your brothers and sisters,” Montly said. “You’re going to love this fresh lake blood. Come on now.” The beast moaned in a sick combination of three voices as Montly pulled.

As the Drum walked to the opening of the pen, Montly saw Silton, awake and silent.

“Oh, perfect. Another one’s up.” Montly counted the Unbroken, numbering the ones who were almost conscious.

“Who are you?” Silton asked.

“My name is Montly,” she smiled.

Silton looked her over. She had a slight form, strong but feminine, with a smooth, glossy face. Her clothes were made of a dried skin-leather two shades darker than her own skin. She wore a short jacket, cinched at the waist, and a pair of tattered pants rolled up tight to her knees.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.