Eville's Most Wanted by Holand Peterson

Author:Holand Peterson
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Science Fiction, Action & Adventure, Fiction
ISBN: 9781475099324
Publisher: Createspace Independent Pub
Published: 2012-04-23T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14- War of Words

His piercing brown eyes burned with unconcealed anger as he strode forward, the heavy, confident thud of his stride echoing through the dimly lit tunnel as he went. Those incompetent fools had made a complete debacle of their assignment. Not only had Necrosia escaped, but his men had managed to incite a full-scale battle on the streets of New Brasov. Already this shocking news had been plastered on every Visi-screen and newspaper around the globe, rendering impotent his carefully laid plans of secrecy. He’d gladly tear the hearts out of each and every one of those miserable imbeciles who failed him with his own bare hands and watch the last vestiges of life bleed out of their worthless souls. He’d do so eagerly and with relish, before all of his quavering servants to see, if it weren’t for the fact that the vast majority of those inept fools had already been killed by the New Brasov police and the sudden, catastrophic appearance of those two UEL scum. Pompous, one-eyed bloodhound. How the hell did he get wind of the operation? Everything was handled with extreme care from the moment of inception. Then, impossibly, it all went to hell in a matter of minutes. He clinched his fists, trembling with rage, and sneered contemptuously as he envisioned Hammett’s overconfident smile leering back at him tauntingly.

Lord Constantine now came to a halt. He had reached the end of the tunnel, and before him was a large stone door, ancient beyond reckoning. Chiseled into the surface of the smooth stone were many intricate carvings, images of lords and ladies, dressed regally, feasting, drinking in excess, surrounded by opulence and beauty. Below these figures, supporting the weight of all upon their bent backs and shoulders, were a mass of tortured souls, naked, malnourished, a sea of entwined limbs, drowning in pain, sorrow and misery. Surrounding this image was some form of writing, cryptic characters from a tongue unknown to mortal man.

Constantine looked upon the image, as he had done many times before, and breathed in deeply. He closed his eyes, and as he slowly exhaled the air from his lungs, his eyelids lifted again. Once more he was Lord Constantine, eyes confident and proud, posture perfectly erect with dignity and importance, breathing calm and controlled. Composed and ready to proceed, the vampire lifted his right hand to his mouth and bit the tip of his ring finger, upon which he wore the impressive ring of three triangular rubies. Near the center of the stone door lay a small depression, and there he pressed the bloody tip of his finger. A low, earthy grinding noise could be heard far below, and with the slightest rumble, the stone door opened.

The vampire lord stepped through the doorway into a large, circular room. Spaced evenly around the hall’s perimeter were nine more doors similar to the one he had just walked through, to be used exclusively by the head of each of the governing vampire houses.

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