Darkest Wish by A. C. Salter

Author:A. C. Salter
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: Occult, Fantasy, Magic, Demons, Fiction
ISBN: 9781370262458
Published: 2017-07-31T23:00:00+00:00

The End

Read on to begin the epic journey of Eversong – the first in the Daughter of Chaos trilogy.

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PROLOGUE

Two years earlier

The naked limbs of a willow whipped savagely at Norgie’s body as the rain gusted against his face. Screwing his eyes against the weather, he searched for a way inside the derelict townhouse; seeking refuge from the relentless storm that battered the foul night.

Stooping low to avoid being stung by the tree, Norgie stumbled over the dilapidated lawn to a cellar window. He kicked it through with the heel of his boot, the sound drowned out by the watery night, then crawled through the gap. His belt buckle caught on the frame, holding him like a worm on a hook before he wriggled through and flopped to the concrete floor within.

Damn, if it wasn’t the wettest night he had ever had. Struggling to his feet he shook the excess water from heavy clothes.

Norgie wasn’t a man for indoors, not even in the harshest of winters - yet this storm was something else. His age was beginning to show; living on the street will do that. It adds years to your face whilst stealing them from your life. Still, for a homeless guy, he wasn’t doing all that bad and he had a couple of yellow teeth in his black gums to prove it.

A dank smell of mulch and turps permeated the cellar. Dust, mouse droppings and something pungent he recognized yet couldn’t put a name to. It tickled his nose and made him uneasy. It was a world apart from the fresh autumn air he should be relishing, as he lay merrily on a park bench by the Thames.

People would call him homeless, a bum, a dreg on society. He would call himself a ‘free man’. No commitments, no dead-end job or boss to slave for, no debts, no responsibility. Just himself, the earth and the sky. Waking up each day with no worries and the freedom to wander where his heart would lead. A free man, albeit a wet one.

Amber light from a street lamp filtered through the fractured window, casting a hypnotic effect against the far wall, creating strange shadows from the objects on the floor. The effect would have been relaxing if it wasn’t for the dead cat lying at his feet.

The feline had been torn open. Grey guts spilt out to the open air, dry eyes staring up at nothing, tongue hanging dark and limp from a gaping mouth.

Norgie reached inside his coat and retrieved a bottle of Captain Morgan. He took a swallow of the rum to wash down the rising bile in his throat. That explains the stench then.

Smaller shapes appeared as he grew accustomed to the dark. Scattered randomly about were dead mice that appeared to have succumbed to the same fate as the cat. They were gutted and crushed as if someone wasn’t satisfied with merely cutting the poor creatures open, they’d felt the need to stamp upon them too.

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